Sociopath? (7 page)

*

He let her stay with him again. Much as she
loved everything he did, that was the very best part, being able to
reach out and touch him any time she wanted to.

*

The next day, it was off to school again. She
got on the bus feeling tired and let-down. She’d barely slept. She
hated it that this wonderful weekend was over. Meanwhile, he was
feeling a sense of anticipation. The time with Alexis was over;
he’d thoroughly done his duty by Lane. Now he was ready to check
out his options. He’d had his eye on a tall red-headed senior in
his English class. He knew from looks she’d given him that all he
had to do was beckon but before he did that, he’d look around a
little. The redhead would always be there when he was ready.

* *

“Rafe, will you do something for me?”

“What’s that, Laney?”

“Will you teach me how to dance? The seventh
grade is having a sock hop in the gym. I’m really looking forward
to going but I’m afraid I’ll feel stupid because I don’t know how
to dance.”

“Well, sure, Honey. After lunch we’ll go down
to the basement and turn on the stereo and I’ll show you.”

They started with slow dancing.

“There’s two ways to put your arms, Lane.
Probably with most kids, you’ll put them around the boy’s neck,
like this.” He illustrated. “But if it’s a boy who has been to
dance class, like all our brothers, though thankfully, that’s
another thing Mom and Dad forgot with us, then you’ll put one hand
on his shoulder and he’ll hold your other hand, like this. Just
wait and see what he prefers.”

He turned on a slow, romantic song.

“Now, Lane, here’s the part that’s important
since you’re the girl. You just need to let yourself be loose and
get into the music and follow the boy. I’m going to start and you
just sort of feel what I’m doing and let your steps match mine.” He
danced her around the floor. At first she was a little awkward.

“Relax, Sweetie, you’re trying too hard. Just
let me guide you.”

And then she got it. Pressed against him, she
felt herself anticipating his next move until their steps together
were smooth and graceful. She felt her chest lightly pressed
against his and her groin barely touching his and her head against
his cheek.

“It’s almost like having sex standing up,”
she told him.

He chuckled. “It can be if you like the
person you’re dancing with well enough.”

“I like you well enough.”

“I know, Honey.”

*

After that, he taught her how to do all the
latest fast dances - both the ones you did apart and the ones
together, where he swung her around and under his arm and caught
her again around her waist.

“You’ll do,” he told her, “you’re plenty good
enough for a 7th grade sock hop.”

“Who taught you how to dance, Rafe?”

He thought about it for a minute. “Well, I
don’t know, Lane. I guess I don’t remember that anyone did.”

“How do you get so good at everything, Rafe,
without anybody even having to show you?”

He shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe I watched
them dancing on t.v. or something.”

* *

“Well, Laney,” he said first thing in the
morning, “today you’re a teenager.”

“I know, isn’t it cool? A teenager!”

“I’ve got a present for you tonight when we
go to bed.”

“What, Rafe?”

“It’s a secret. You’ll find out tonight.”

“Rafe, you always make me wait for
things!”

“That’s because looking forward to something
is almost as much fun as actually doing it.”

“I’ll be in a tizz all day thinking about
it!”

“Your grades are good enough, you can afford
to be in a tizz for one day.”

*

She was in a tizz all day. She would read her
history chapter and then realize she didn’t remember a thing she’d
just read. Or quit right in the middle of doing a math problem. She
kept thinking what new thing there could possibly be that he hadn’t
already shown her. It seemed like they’d done everything that could
be done. They’d done it with him on top and with her on top. They’d
done it with him sitting in a chair and her sitting down on him.
They’d done it with mouths and hands, in the shower and in the
pool.

“Elena, are you feeling all right?”

“Oh, yes, Mrs. Peterson. I just lost my train
of thought.”

“Well, would you try to find it again and
finish your problem?”

“Yes, Mrs Peterson, I’m sorry.”

*

Her parents had forgotten her birthday again
so there was no cake and no presents but she didn’t care. She kept
watching the clock, waiting for it to get to be bedtime.

*

“I want you to roll onto your belly, Lane.
I’m going to fuck you in your butt.”

She was shocked. “Do people do that,
Rafe?”

“Yes, they do, Sweetie. You have to trust me
though. Do you trust me, Lane?”

“You know I do.”

“Okay, I’m going to tell you the truth. It’s
going to hurt at first but you just have to get through it and
pretty soon, the pleasure will overtake the pain. I promise. That’s
why I waited until you were 13 to do it.”

He put a fat pillow under her so her rear
stuck up in the air.

“It’s one more place to put myself inside
you, Lane, and I want to be inside you every way I can.”

First he kissed her on the back of her neck
and then on her shoulders and then down her back and finally, he
gave her tiny soft bites on her butt cheeks until she was shivering
with anticipation. Then she felt him hold her apart with his hand
and put his cock right up against her. She could feel the
stickiness where he’d smeared himself with something to make it
slick.

“I’m going in now, Lane.”

Oh, wow, he was right. It hurt a lot. She
heard herself whimpering a little. Tears were oozing out of her
eyes.

“Does it hurt too bad, Laney? Do you want me
to stop?”

“No, keep going. I want you in me as far as
you can go, Rafe.”

“It helps if you can make yourself
relax.”

“I’ll try.”

“I’m all the way in. I’m going to start
moving in and out, just like I do when I fuck you. It will start to
feel good before long.”

And he was right. Pretty soon as he moved
back and forth, she thought of herself like being a water balloon,
only filled with joy instead of water, he just kept filling her
fuller and fuller until she knew she couldn’t hold much more and
when she finally popped, the joy just spilled all over. She felt
like it was flooding her blood and her muscles and her bones and
most of all, her brain.

“Oh, Rafe, oh God, oh God, oh God,” but
whispered. She was surprised she remembered she had to be
quiet.

“I want you to tell you something about this,
Lane.”

“What?”

“You’re going to be grown up someday and what
we do isn’t going to be enough. That means you’ll have sex with
other men.”

“No!”

“Yes, when the time comes, Honey, that’s what
you’ll need to do. I don’t care if you let them fuck you the
regular way but I want one part of you that only belongs to me and
that means this.” He patted her on her seat. “Nobody’s cock but
mine, have you got that, Lane?”

“I don’t even want to think about ever being
with anyone but you, Rafe.”

“Do you swear, Laney?”

“I swear.”

“Good.”

“I love you, Rafe. Can I stay here with you
tonight, please? It’s my thirteenth birthday, please, Rafe, let me
stay.”

“No, only when we’re the only ones home. Give
me a kiss and go on over to your room, Sweetie.”

*

The next time he fucked her, he wore a
condom. He showed her what it was and told her how it worked.

“Even though you haven’t started your period
yet, it’s going to happen soon and that will mean you can get
pregnant. That would be a very, very bad thing to happen.”

She definitely agreed with that! She didn’t
like the condom very well though and wished he didn’t have to wear
it. She wished nothing ever had to change from the way it had
always been.

* *

Rafe was walking down the hall at school,
just minding his own business, when Bobby Kelly charged over and
punched him in the side of the head. Bobby was a big kid. He was a
senior, 18, a tackle on the football team. He outweighed Rafe by at
least 60 pounds. The force of his strike knocked Rafe to the floor.
He felt blood running down the side of his mouth. He rolled over
onto his back.

“That’s for stealing my girlfriend,” Bobby
snarled.

Rafe made no effort to get up. A small crowd
had formed around them.

“Well, I didn’t have to do much to steal her,
Bobby,” he drawled in a slow, lazy voice. He held up his hand with
his little finger crooked, “just that much. Besides, Bobby, why are
you so pissed? I gave her back new and improved after I was done
teaching how to give a really good blow job.” His smile went
flashing across his face.

Bobby’s own face went bright red and drew
back his foot. “I’ll kill you, you fucking bastard!”

That’s what Rafe was hoping would happen. He
hadn’t a doubt that he could take Bobby as long as he was aware the
attack was coming. But Bobby’s friends grabbed him and pulled him
away.

Rafe leaped up. Well, he’d have to bide his
time but the paybacks, when they came for Bobby Kelly, would
definitely be hell.

He waited and he watched. It took a couple of
weeks but finally, he found Bobby and half a dozen of his cohorts
down at the back of the school grounds under a group of trees where
the smokers congregated to burn one. It was a place the teachers
never went. By common consent all the grown ups averted their eyes
and pretended it didn’t exist.

Rafe walked up to Bobby. “It’s time to finish
this, Bob.”

“I think it is finished.”

“Nope, not yet, it’s not.”

His fist came out so quickly, no one even
realized what was happening. Then again and again, until Bobby went
down, puking, with a broken nose, a missing front tooth, two
swelling eyes and a cut chin, all before he’d had even had a chance
to get his hands up.

“Stop, Rafe, I quit.” The bigger boy gasped,
spitting blood.

“How can you quit when you never even got
started, Bob?”

Bobby figured it was over until he heard the
snick of a switchblade and saw the blade leap out of its handle.
The group around them gave out a collective, “oh, my God.”

“Jesus, Rafe, please don’t kill me!”

“I’m not going to kill you, you dumb fuck.
I’m just going to give you something to remember me by.”

He lightly drew two quick lines on Bobby’s
cheek with the razor-sharp knife, one slightly longer than the
other. Blood instantly bubbled out of the wound. Which resembled a
check mark….or perhaps a slightly off-kilter Vee.

“Do you think I would I kill you in front of
this many witnesses?” he asked casually, as if he was truly curious
about the answer. “But, Bobby, let’s say for the sake of argument
that you told about today…” he looked around the rest of the
on-lookers, “or that anyone did, and I did want to kill you, do you
think, Bobby, that I’d be smart enough to come up with a way to do
it so that no one would know what happened?” The smile came and
went so fast, they weren’t quite sure they’d even seen it.

But everyone there believed totally,
absolutely and positively that if Rafe Vincennes decided to kill
Bobby, or anyone else, he would be smart enough to do it and never
get caught.

“One more thing before I go, Bob - I hit you
ten times, do you want to know why?”

“Why?” It was a reluctant grunt more than a
word.

This time, the smile stayed long enough to be
plenty sure it was there - “why, its Rafe’s Rules of Vengeance,
Bobby - whatever anybody does to me, I do back to them times
ten.”

*

So when Bobby Kelly went home with his broken
face and a double line of crusted blood across his cheek, he told
his folks he’d been jumped by a gang of, he thought, six kids. They
must have been from out of town. He didn’t ever remember seeing any
of them before. He didn’t remember what any of them looked like. He
didn’t remember what they’d been wearing.

Even when his outraged parents took him to
the police station to file a report, he stuck stubbornly to his
story. The police were pretty sure it was bullshit but no matter
how they asked the questions, they got the same answers. Finally,
they just let it go and sent Bobby Kelly home.

No one really ever told what happened but
still, the truth got around through the school grapevine. It became
one more part of the Rafe Vincennes legend.

* *

All the Benedict Incorporated School District
teachers were at the annual conference. These three days were
something they all hated. An endless series of boring panels and
seminars about the proper way to make out lesson plans and how to
comply with No Child Left Behind, blah, blah, blah. Meal times were
the only bearable parts of the day. The food at the historic
Marylebone Inn was excellent and at least they could kick back and
talk about subjects they were interested in, at the present moment,
that subject being Rafe Vincennes.

At the table was Linda Dee, tall and skinny,
with wiry, short black hair and faintly bulging brown eyes, arched
over with heavy, thick brows. (Some of her colleagues had discussed
buying her a brow-shaping session at the salon but they never had
quite enough nerve to actually do it). Even though, most female
teachers were wearing slacks now, Miss Dee still stuck to straight
skirts and cotton blouses and flat-heeled shoes. In the chair next
to her sat Rhonda Fisher, the high school guidance counselor. She
was plump and rosy-cheeked with a gray pageboy and twinkling blue
eyes. She was one of the most popular adults in school and
genuinely cared about the problems of the kids who came to her for
assistance. Jeb Kroner was next. He taught Earth Science at the
high school. He was a dedicated teacher but he’d been teaching long
enough that his subject was getting a little boring and he was
becoming somewhat cynical about stuffing Earth Science into mostly
not-very-interested young minds. He looked a little like he might
have been a hippie back in the Swingin’ Sixties, with his shapeless
gray beard and an easygoing attitude that made you think he could
still remember how to roll a joint if he wanted to. And finally,
Judith Lentz, who taught Honors English. Judith revered authors and
literature. She could quote poetry for hours on end. She affected
the look she thought portrayed her soul, with mostly long, filmy
Renaissance-type dresses and flowing blonde hair. Rafe Vincennes
was one of her best students. She’d given him an A+ last semester
in spite of the fact that she suspected his ability in her class
stemmed only from his head and not at all from his heart.