Chapter 3

“Okay, as I’m sure you already know, my fiancée told me to give you whatever you want and I already know better than to disappoint my fiancée, so tell me what you’d like,” I told Mrs. Dunn when I ended the call, although her grin told me she already knew.

Since the asshole was still unconscious, I used one of the ammonia inhalants I brought from our family’s first aid kit and woke him up. It took him a few seconds for him to get his bearings and then he started struggling again. While he struggled, Mrs. Dunn began removing my clothing. The asshole got red in the face and again began struggling to free himself.

I returned the favor and removed Mrs. Dunn’s clothing as she continued to remove mine. I was quite surprised when Mrs. Phillips joined us in getting naked. I meant every word when I told Mrs. Phillips that I thought she was a beautiful woman. She looked so much like a slightly older version of Sally that I could easily picture Sally in her place. The main difference, aside from the collection of bruises on her body, was that Mrs. Phillips had a mature softness and roundness to her body that Sally didn’t have. Sally still had the sleek body of a teenager.

“She’s ready for you, Master,” Mrs. Phillips said to me as she kissed me. She grinned when I quirked an eyebrow at her for calling me Master.

“She wants you to bend her over the table. Knowing Stan has to watch his woman having sex with someone else is more than enough for her,” Mrs. Phillips whispered as she rubbed her large, soft breasts seductively across my naked chest.

“Since you won’t have any further use for them, I guess your toys are now my property,” I taunted Stan as I approached Mrs. Dunn, helping her to stand up. I pulled her into my arms and kissed her. Then I turned her facing away from me and pressed her down until her breasts rested on the tabletop.

“I expect you to watch while I claim your toy as mine,” I told Stan.

“If he looks away or closes his eyes, feel free to embed one of those honey locust thorns in his balls,” I told Mrs. Phillips. Her grin got even bigger as she picked up two of the three-centimeter-long thorns and waved them in front of Stan’s face.

With no further ado, I gave her what she wanted.

Mrs. Phillips moved a few seconds later and I heard a muffled shriek from Stan. “Keep your eyes open so that you can learn how a woman likes to be treated, not that you’ll ever get a chance to practice again,” she ordered, laughing at him.

“Thank you,” Mrs. Dunn sighed. “It’s so much better with a real man,” she added yet another barb aimed at Stan.

“Would you mind if I showed up in your bed occasionally?” Mrs. Phillips whispered as we began dressing.

“Sally already told me to invite the two of you over occasionally,” I replied.

Once we were dressed, I dragged Stan out the back door of the house and tied him to the supply tender sled. “Do either of you know where he lives?” I asked when I went back inside.

“I do,” Mrs. Dunn replied miserably.

“See if you can learn who his other victims were and let them know that they’re safe now. I’m sure they’d rather have you tell them than have me know who they are. Stan and I are going to visit a few hungry gators,” I said with a grin. Both women gave me a final hug and kiss before they headed back inside.

Fifteen minutes later, I was even more in love with the new grav sled. The island I hovered over required over ninety minutes to reach with the fan boat. I spent several minutes finding and killing an appropriate small sacrificial animal to use to get the gators riled up. I was surprised at how easy it was to sit astride the newest grav sled and use my crossbow.

I swooped down and picked up the carcass, then began an outward spiral search of the nearby islands. It took half an hour before I found “Gramps,” the biggest alligator I’d ever seen. I estimated that he was approaching seven meters long. Most of the adult alligators were three to four meters long. It was easy to tell he was the same one I had seen before because he had a large scar just above his right eye, probably from a boat propeller or a fight with another gator. When I first saw the magnificent animal three years ago, I promised myself that I wouldn’t hunt him.

Six other large gators were sunning themselves nearby. When I dropped the feral pig carcass into the water near them, seven hulks slipped into the water from the shore of the small island. Once they converged on the pig’s carcass, I let the supply tender drift alongside me. “Can you swim?” I asked Stan. He nodded, but his questioning eyes told me that he had no idea why I asked, especially since he was still tied up.

“Good, there’s a small island about ten meters away. Of course, there are seven large, hungry gators in the water right below you,” I chuckled. “This is my version of catch and release. I caught you and now I release you,” I said as I instructed the sled tender to do a slow roll.

I’d have to practice more since my aim was off. He missed the knot of gators by almost a meter, not that it did him much good. From five meters up, he made quite a splash when he hit the water, one that definitely attracted the attention of the agitated gators that had missed feasting on the baby feral pig. Stan’s body was jerked beneath the surface and reappeared only briefly when Gramps rolled the first time. Five minutes later, once there was no further sign of Gramps or Stan, I headed home.

When I walked into the house, I thought I’d walked into a funeral. “What happened?” I asked Sally when I found her in our room.

“Your Uncle told Stephanie to pack her things and leave,” she said solemnly.

“Why now? She’s been harassing me forever,” I asked.

“I guess he gave her an ultimatum last night. If she ever gave you any grief again, he’d divorce her. He did let her choose whether to have Wendy and Audrey go with her or stay here. They’re staying,” she said.

“No,” I said adamantly as I stood up. I found Uncle Don in his study. The door was open which meant that it was okay to disturb him.

“Come on in, Jim,” he said when I reached to knock on the door frame.

“I was expecting you. No, this isn’t your fault. She’s also been sniping at the other wives occasionally. Like you, they ignored her, not wanting to rock the boat. Her latest two outbursts are an escalation. I warned her last night that her outburst last night was the last straw. If there were another one like that, she’d have to leave. I gave her the choice of taking the girls with her or letting them stay here and she chose to let them stay here so they’re better cared for,” he sighed resignedly.

“Did she say why she does it?” I asked. He just shook his head.

“Can I talk to her?” I asked.

“I would have been surprised if you hadn’t asked to,” he replied with a small, tired smile. “I think she’s waiting in the living room.”

She was, and she looked ten times worse than Uncle Don did. When she saw me enter the room, she quickly averted her eyes and stared at the floor. Wendy and Audrey were both clinging to her. Their eyes were as red and swollen as hers were.

“Can we talk?” I asked softly.

“Won’t do any good,” she replied resignedly. “I screwed up and I know it.”

“It can’t hurt anything, and Uncle Don said I could try talking to you,” I offered, hoping to convince her to try. “I don’t want you to leave,” I continued.

“I’d think you’d be glad to get rid of me after the way I’ve treated you,” she replied.

“I may have thought a few unkind things about you, and I kept hoping that you’d eventually treat me better, but I never wished that you’d leave,” I told her.

“Please, Mom?” Wendy pleaded.

“Fine,” she agreed resignedly, accepting my proffered hand. I led her to my room where I found Sally waiting for me. Stephanie was surprised when I sat in one of the overstuffed chairs in my room and pulled her into my lap. Sally pulled the other chair over right next to us.

“Can you at least tell me what I did wrong that made you so angry with me?” I asked after several seconds of uncomfortable silence.

Twice she looked like she was preparing to say something and twice she changed her mind. “Screw it, it’s not as if it can make things any worse,” she finally sighed reluctantly. “You didn’t do anything wrong,” she admitted. “You were just a convenient target for my anger.”

I waited for her to continue and watched a new tear escape the corner of her eye. “I guess I was jealous of you and your family because your life after your father died was so much easier than ours was,” she continued, her voice starting to waver slightly.

“I know that it wasn’t easy for your family. I know that you stepped up when your dad was drafted and shouldered many of his responsibilities.” After another short break to control her emotions and another pained sigh, she continued.

“We lost our house because I couldn’t afford the payments. The girls had to wear clothes from the thrift store. We lived in a fleabag motel for a couple of months and then a homeless shelter where I was afraid to go to sleep at night lest one of the creeps there try to molest the girls,” she continued, tears now flowing freely.

“I was angry at the world for taking away the man I loved. I was angry that we lost almost everything he had worked so hard to provide for us. Even after Don married me and took us in, I was angry about what had happened and took it out on people around me, especially you.”

I replied, “That doesn’t seem like an insurmountable problem. Just talking about it must help, and I’m sure a therapist can help with the grief and anger. Talk to Uncle Don about it.”

She shook her head, shaking a tear loose. “I can’t. There’s more and I can’t talk about it. You and Don would hate me,” she sobbed.

I took her face gently between my hands and turned her so that she was looking at me. “I don’t know what you did that you think is so bad, but I can’t imagine myself hating you for it. After what I’ve done, how can I look down on anyone?” I asked.

“What did you do?” she asked, her tone of voice indicating that she didn’t believe me.

“You heard Uncle Don last night, I killed a man,” I replied as I again felt the emotional roiling in my gut.

“But you did it to protect Kristen,” she protested.

“That’s what I told myself to be able to do it,” I replied. “I believed it until an instant after pulling the trigger.”

“What happened then to change your mind?” she queried.

“Reality happened. I saw what the bullet did to his body. I heard the impact and realized that I’d just killed a man. While I suspected that he’d go after Kristen or some other girl again, I didn’t know it for a fact. I had nightmares about what I did off and on for six months. After what I did, I have no moral grounds to judge the actions of others.”

She tucked her head against my shoulder, and we held each other in silence for nearly a minute. “I worked as a whore. I sold my body to make money trying to save some small part of our world for the girls and to keep them safe,” she almost whispered.

“See, you’re facing the same dilemma I did,” I told her. “Uncle Don jokes that no amount of logic can counter emotions in a woman. In this case, it seems to be true. All you remember is the shame of your actions. You forget the reason you did it. You didn’t do it to see how many men you could have sex with. You did it to provide for and to keep your daughters safe. How is that any different than you justifying what I did by saying that I was protecting Kristen?”

She stared at me, and her mouth moved several times like she was trying to say something, but no sound came out. Finally, her shoulders slumped. “It’s the same,” she sighed.

“Can we go tell Uncle Don that a crisis has been averted?” I asked hopefully.

“It won’t do any good. What man would want a whore for a wife?” she sighed.

“If Uncle Don can’t forgive you for that, then he’s not the man I think he is. Even if he still won’t take you back, how are you any worse off? I’ll make you a deal. If he won’t take you back, I’ll move back into my old home. You can move in with me,” I promised, watching Sally’s reaction carefully. I breathed easier when Sally nodded her agreement.

“You would do that for me after everything I did to you?” she asked.

“I would. After what I dealt with today, I couldn’t live with myself thinking about you alone out there,” I said, shuddering as I motioned towards the outside. “Are you coming?” I asked hopefully as I stood up, sliding her off my lap. Reluctantly, she took my hand, following me out of the room.

Uncle Don looked up when I knocked on his study door again. He still looked like he’d been through the wringer. “I think we’ve averted the crisis,” I said as he motioned us in. I closed and locked the door before sitting in one of the two chairs. Stephanie sat next to me on the arm of the chair, holding me tightly for emotional support as she trembled.

Stephanie’s eyes were red and swollen, her face streaked with tears as I neared the end of my narrative. Uncle Don rose and walked over to us, knelt, and wrapped his arms around her.

“I know how hard it must have been for you to share that story, and I understand why you tried to hide it,” he said as he leaned in and kissed her. When they broke the kiss, he rested his forehead against hers, his tears trailing down his face.

I started to leave but Uncle Don stopped me. “I have two conditions,” he said. “The first is that you do what Jim suggested and see a therapist for help with the anger issue and the grief.”

“I intend to,” she replied.

“The second is that I want you to stay with Jim for a few days. I want us to have a short separation so you can think about everything. You’ll also be around Jim more so we can see how you react around him. I don’t expect perfection, but I expect a marked reduction of tension between the two of you.

“I’m not doing this to punish you,” he told her as he gently stroked her face. “Our near break-up has everyone in the house upset. I felt like I was losing a piece of myself, and I was terrified about what might happen to you alone out there. I want a few days for us to be sure this will work out before declaring the emergency is over. This way, you’ll still be around your daughters, the other wives, and me for emotional support.”

“Um, my presence might put a crimp in the kids’ reindeer games tonight,” she replied, blushing.

“You do get excited easily, don’t you,” he said quietly to her. “I’ll tell you what, if anything happens, I promise not to be upset. What happens in Jim’s room stays in Jim’s room forever with no guilt and no recrimination. I love you and I want us to work it out,” he said as he stood up.

As she reached the door, she turned to Don and emotionally said, “I miss you already.” Stephanie clung to me as we left the study. Wendy and Audrey hurried over to us, eager and hopeful.

“We’ll be getting back together if I can keep from ruining everything for a few days,” she told them emotionally. “Thank you,” she whispered just as emotionally as she gave me a brief kiss on the lips. “You are a wonderful man, just like Don. I hope one of my daughters manages to become one of your wives.”

She and the girls took her bags into my room. I was starving and emotionally wrung out. “Food first, then sleep,” I thought to myself, hoping to snag something to eat in the kitchen.

“Change of plan,” I thought when I stuck my head into the kitchen. With five women working in the large kitchen, I didn’t dare even set foot in there. Nobody entered the kitchen except other women as they moved around each other with the fluidity and coordination of a well-rehearsed dance troupe.

You may wonder how five women worked together in the kitchen, or even fit into the kitchen. Probably because the kitchen is the biggest room in the house. In addition to three full stoves, there are two, three-door commercial refrigerators and the same number for the freezers. There are three sinks, and enough counter space that five people can stretch out on them for a nap.

“Did you need something, Jim?” Aunt Peggy asked when I turned away.

“I was hoping to sneak something to eat, but I see that you’re busy,” I replied.

“We’re almost done; come on in and grab whatever you want,” she ordered, shocking me. The strangeness didn’t end there. Each of my five mothers in the kitchen hugged me as I passed by them, kissing me on the cheek with Mom hugging me hardest of all. I grabbed a plate and loaded it with two sandwiches and a pile of potato salad. At least I think I did. By the time I reached the dining room table, only a smear from the salad and a few crumbs from the bread remained on the plate. I set my empty plate at my place on the table and headed for bed.

“Wake up, Jim, there are people here to see you.”

Opening my eyes, I was disoriented for a few moments. It was much lighter in the room than when I usually woke up. Then everything that had happened earlier today hit me again. Looking up, I saw Sally smiling at me right before she leaned down to kiss me. I tried to raise my arms to hug her, but my left arm was asleep, and something was weighing it down.

Once our kiss was done, I looked over and saw Stephanie sound asleep next to me, my arm beneath her neck, her body pressed against my side. At least both of us were fully clothed. Then I remembered what Uncle Don said. I knew how I’d feel if I had to tell Sally that and vowed to myself that nothing would happen between us. Sally smiled lovingly at me as I slowly worked my arm free.

Unfortunately, Stephanie woke up. Sally leaned over me and kissed her quickly, then used her finger to move a stray lock of hair from Stephanie’s face. “It’s still a couple of hours before dinner will be ready if you want to go back to sleep,” Sally said quietly. “Jim has a few people here to see him.”

“Thank you, both of you,” Stephanie replied. The emotion in her voice told us how much of a toll today had taken out of her physically and emotionally.

“Comb your hair,” Sally teased me as she messed it up even further with her fingers. Once she deemed me presentable, she led the way into Don’s study. I froze in the doorway with a sinking feeling in my stomach when I saw that the Sheriff was one of the guests. The other guests included Mrs. Phillips, Mrs. Dunn, and four other women. I recognized each of the other women, although it would only have been surprising if I hadn’t recognized them.

One was a war widow, one a woman whose husband was still overseas serving in the military, and one whose husband just recently returned from overseas. The final female was Jackie Clark, a girl in Sally’s class, and a friend of both Sally and me. She and her mother lived in one of the houses on the small lots along the north side of Neland Road. Her mother was the war widow.

While the other women all smiled nervously at me, Jackie blushed and lowered her face, staring at the floor. The Sheriff was standing and strode across the room towards me. “On behalf of everyone here and in the entire Parish, I want to thank you for what you did today,” he said as he took my hand. Rather than attaching a pair of handcuffs, though, he pumped my hand up and down vigorously.