The Light at the End of the Tunnel (28 page)

The shocked look disappeared quickly, “I’m
not sure exactly what you will make, little girl. You can find that
out later. But you
do know
that you have to do something to
earn it, right?”

“What do I have to do?” Cassandra was pretty
sure what she had to do, but wanted the woman driver to tell her,
so that she could act interested, and willing…Mandy was hanging
onto her arm hardly at all.

“Well, there’s a rich man in that house who’s
waiting to see you, and he wants to be real nice to you.”

“What’s he gonna do?”

The woman driver had stayed cool for a bit,
but Cassandra could see that her questions were beginning to bother
her, and yet the woman answered once more in a non-threatening,
matter-of-fact, way, “He’s going to make love to you.”

Make love? What’s that?
She didn’t
know what to make of that. She had no idea what
‘make love’
meant. She had a vague idea what the word
‘love’
meant, but
she doubted there was much real ‘
love’
ahead for her, not
today, and not in that house. She wanted to ask one more question
but didn’t. Instead she smiled, “Okay.”

And the woman driver smiled back, “We’ll go
in then.”

She expected her to tell Mandy, again, to
hang onto her, but she didn’t. The woman driver must be trusting
her.

Mandy slid the side door open and stepped
out, then released Cassandra and instead offered her hand to help
her down. She smiled and took the hand. Mandy did not smile back
but she felt sure Mandy was trusting her too, and when her feet hit
the ground she threw Mandy’s hand and dug her feet in.

“Stop her!” The woman driver’s voice came
harshly, doubly harshly because Cassandra had gotten her to trust
her.

She ran down the alley, reached the street
and turned in the direction they had turned earlier. She could hear
Mandy behind her but she kept going flat out. They reached the
busier street. She ran a block, then most of another block, then
ducked into a shop. She saw all kinds of clocks, and no customers.
Mandy came in almost right behind her. A television high on a shelf
was playing a daytime soap opera.

“Stop, Mandy! I’ll scream…!”

“No you won’t.”

“What’s the trouble here?” The shopkeeper, a
man with a gray moustache and white hair, and glasses, who just
appeared out of nowhere, asked, “Is this your sister?”

“No!” Cassandra exclaimed.

“Yes!” Mandy said.

“Well, I hope one of you is telling the
truth.”

“Mandy, come with me,” Cassandra said, “We’ll
both get away.”

“Get away…?” the shopkeeper said, obviously
confused. For just a heart-rending second or two the man reminded
Cassandra of Geppeto, the kindly wood carver in Pinocchio, one of
only three Disney movies she had seen.

“I can’t,” Mandy said, “What about my
mom?”

“We’ll go to the police and tell’em, and then
we’ll go back for her.”

“Police? Go back for her?” The poor
shopkeeper was really confused. Cassandra so wanted to tell him
everything, but somehow knew he would not believe her. Because he
was
not
Geppeto!

“We can’t get away,” Mandy said, “And even if
we did they’d just separate us and put us in foster care. Is that
what you want? To go to foster care?”

“Who
are
you girls?” the shopkeeper
asked.

Cassandra looked at him. His face now was
like the faces of all the other adults she had ever known.
He
didn’t care about her.
Nobody
cared about
her!—
Nicole
….

“They’re my kids!” The woman driver towered
and filled the doorway, and hung onto that big purse, “I’ll take
care of them, sir, and thank you for helping them.”

“Ah, I didn’t do a thing, ma’am, but you’re
welcome.”

The shopkeeper watched them leave. Cassandra
glanced back. The man was reaching for a wall phone, then she
couldn’t see him anymore. She wondered if he would call the police.
And then what would he say? Maybe just that she was trying to run
away from her mother. He probably wouldn’t call anybody and just go
back to wherever he had been before she and Mandy arrived. The
three returned to the minivan. Nobody saw the Amber Alert bulletin
cut into the soap opera, and of the four people, nobody, maybe not
even Cassandra herself, would have recognized the significance of
it.

****

Cassandra wasn’t too sure about what had just
happened. And, of course, she hadn’t known what to expect, just
that it would probably be bad, or at least not fun, and, even
though fully dressed again, she still felt cold down there.

The woman driver had taken her and Mandy into
the house, Mandy, mainly, to hang onto her, then they had entered a
bedroom right away, “You’ll have to change, honey,” the woman
driver had said, “Our man wants you in this…outfit.” The woman held
out a dress. It looked like just a dress, but pretty short. “I saw
an outfit like this in an article describing the new Halloween
costumes, and suggested it to our man, and he readily agreed.
Mandy, you help her get undressed.”

So the big woman driver just stood there and
watched. And when Mandy started to pull her panties down, Cassandra
tried to stop her—

“Get those panties off!” the woman driver
said, loudly, “Our man doesn’t want panties, so get’em off!”

Cassandra remembered her stomach suddenly
feeling empty, like there was nothing there, but she had released
her panties and Mandy finished pulling them down and then off, and
finally she had stood naked, feeling…she didn’t remember feeling
anything. Except she had felt really cold. It was like her stomach
no longer existed, like
she
no longer existed.

“Get her dressed, Mandy. Here, all she wears
is this little pink dress, plus these black high heels—he wants her
in high heels.”

So Mandy had helped her get the dress on, but
it was so short. It barely covered her butt, and she felt really
cold there. And the high heels. She, of course, in her short life,
had never worn high heels. They were a little big for her; she
hoped she would be able to walk in them.

“One more thing, Mandy.” The woman driver
handed over a pink ribbon, that Mandy carefully tied under
Cassandra’s hair and then made a bow on top of her head.

“Ahh, she’s so sweet…give us a couple twirls,
honey.”

Cassandra turned around, and around again,
and almost lost her balance, and because of no panties she had felt
that really cold, cold on her middle, and like she was still
completely naked, and, with no panties she really
was
. It
was a strange, strange, feeling, and her stomach remained empty,
and paining her.

“All right, honey, let’s go.” The woman
driver opened the door and gestured. “Oh yes, I nearly forgot.” The
woman opened her huge purse and pulled out, “Here, honey, wear
these white gloves too.”

She put them on, then looked up at the
woman.

“Oh,” the woman smiled and showed her teeth,
“You are one darling little baby.”

For a second or two Cassandra focused on the
woman’s teeth—they weren’t white; they weren’t pretty at all—then
she moved to the door, stepped into the hall, and stopped. The
woman driver pointed, “Right up those stairs, honey, and
smile!”—
Nicole!
—“Act like you’re happy!”

Strange how she could think of Nicole right
then, again, a woman she had seen only once and would never see
again. But during that one meeting Nicole had looked into her eyes
and Cassandra had seen something she had never before
seen…
Nicole cares about me! I just know it!

She moved to the stairs and started climbing.
The shoes felt so loose. Her bare bottom felt so cold,
and…naked—she
was
naked! And she felt the woman driver
staring at her every uncertain step, watching…her nakedness. She
hated
that woman! She reached the top of the stairs and
walked toward the first door.

“Right there, honey!” the woman driver called
out, “Just knock.”

Cassandra sent her a glance, then faced the
door, and knocked.

A man came to the door immediately and opened
it, an older man, like the man, Franny, at her last foster home,
only maybe older, “Hello, sweetheart,” he said.

I’m not your sweetheart!
“Hello.”

“What’s your name?”

“Dorothy.”

“Dorothy?”

“Yes!” Cassandra knew that had come out too
loud and hard. She had to be nice to this man or he would tell the
woman driver, and then she wouldn’t know what to expect. The woman
driver might even hurt her, “You know.” She smiled,
“
’Dorothy,’
like the Dorothy in
‘The Wizard of
Oz.’
”

“Oh, of course. I liked that movie. And I
like that name
‘Dorothy.’
My name’s—“

And he said a name, but she blocked it. She
didn’t want to know his name.

He closed the door and stepped back to the
bed and sat down on the edge, then held out his arms and smiled,
“Come here, sweetheart.”

I’m not your sweetheart!
She felt so
angry
, and
upset
, and her stomach felt so
empty
, and she just didn’t know why this was happening to
her, but she walked to the man, right into his arms, and let him
hug her.

He held her in the hug for what seemed like a
long time. She almost didn’t mind it. She even kind of started
hugging him back. She didn’t remember the last time someone had
hugged her, really, honestly, hugged, her, maybe never. But Nicole
would hug her,
Nicole would hug me tight!
There had been
plenty of
fake
hugs, though, hugs for
show
, if
someone important was watching, but no
real
hugs. She
started to feel warm, like she was in a safe and wonderful place;
she actually started to feel…
loved
by this man
—‘make
love,’
that’s what the woman had said—but then his hand started
to move down her back, then both his hands, down, to her butt, then
one hand stopped to just feel her there through her dress, but the
other hand kept going, down, down to the bottom of her dress, then
onto her leg, and started up again, and then she stopped
remembering…

****

“Wasn’t so bad, was it, honey?” asked the
woman driver.

Cassandra didn’t answer.
I hate you! I
could kill you!

“Well, you might as well start getting used
to it, baby girl,” The woman driver continued, “Because as long as
you’re with me, that’s what you’ll be doing, only there won’t be
any more new fancy getups like that—what did they call it in that
advertisement?—a
‘runaway diva child costume.’
Oh my god! I
loved
it, and I loved
you
in it, honey! Cause that’s
what you are, baby-girl, a runaway, and a diva! But I wonder what
dirty-minded person comes up with these ideas for Halloween
costumes for really young girls, I don’t know. But I’d like to
meet’im! Or her… Anyway, there won’t be anymore, not unless we run
into more old guys with deep pockets who just like girls between
the ages of seven and ten.” The woman driver glanced back, then
reached back with her hand.

Cassandra ducked it.

“You’ll come to enjoy it, baby-honey-girl,
I’ll bet you even enjoyed it today.” The woman swung her hand
again.

She ducked it again, and remembered. The man
had
not
hurt her, and in her mind she thanked him for that.
He had only
held
her, and
hugged
her—things she
hadn’t
minded
, and kind of even
liked
, because she
felt he really
did
like her. She only minded it when his
hands moved on her, feeling and touching her
everywhere
!
Then she
didn’t
like it!—but she didn’t dare try to stop
him, and he didn’t actually
hurt
her, not like when that boy
reaped her!

“Come on, not even a little bit?”

She finally looked at the woman driver but
would not smile, and knew her lips were really tight.

“Oh, I love that pout. If we had a camera
that look you have on right now could sell big time—“ She turned
back to watch her driving, “Little girl smiles and pouts are
selling like hotcakes on the web—little sweetie-pies and baby
beauty queens—oh my god, I love that too, except I don’t know
anything about computers—Mandy! We’re going to get you a camera and
a computer!...Then, ladies, we’ll start moving into some
real
money. But we don’t have a lot of time, as little
Cassandra won’t stay nine forever.” The woman driver looked back
again, and sent an evil expression.

Cassandra turned quickly away and faced the
window, but saw nothing of the world passing. Her mind and heart
said she wanted to scream, and cry, but she had not cried for such
a long time she didn’t even remember ever crying, not
ever
,
and wondered if the crying part of her body even worked!

“Mandy!” the woman driver half shouted,
“Don’t you ever let go of her again! And honey-girl, you straighten
up that face! You got more work to do tonight! And you
will
start liking it…or making me
believe
you like it—or
else…!”

She could not think of one happy thing to
think about, so her mind simply went blank.

Chapter 46
Lights Out

Les Paul was finally ready for something
different. He had thought about it all day, and had dismissed those
ancient memories, memories so ancient that he had finally convinced
himself that they weren’t his at all. He still wondered why he
would have such memories if they weren’t really his—
doesn’t
matter! They’re not mine!

He doubled his fists and thought so hard that
he attracted the attention of the other boys.