Posts by Laurel L. Russwurm

124

wire hangers dangle forlornly in an empty closet.sunday

Tamara comes into the apartment, not sure what horror to expect, especially late on a Saturday night. Just the thought of another night at Barbie’s is worse than dealing with Q. She needs resolution.

Unlocking the door, her nose twitches as she reaches for the light. It smells different. No pot anyway. What is that odour? Perfume?

As light floods the living room she is startled to see that everything is in order. Neat. No dead bottles or pizza boxes, or ashtrays. Well. Now that she sees this unnatural sight she can identify the smell– the perfume is Febreze. Maybe he’s trying to change …

Wait a minute. Why is she giving him credit for this.

She knows Q.

No way. Q does not clean.

It was probably the cunt he was fucking who cleaned the place up for him.

Tamara’s moment of happiness is killed by fury that Q fucked another woman in her bed. The man she married wouldn’t have done that.

Bastard.

Tamara sets down the cheap empty suitcase she’s brought in the doorway. She’d better go see if he’s here before packing. Make sure he’s not fucking anyone else right now. Although, Saturday night. Great night for partying. Even students who work at their courses are out partying tonight.

Taking a deep breath — Febreze, shit — Tamara goes down the little hall to the bedroom. The bimbo probably bought it. Q would never … And she opens the door. The window is open a crack, the bed is made, hell, it looks laundered. Clean sheets. Smells fresher in here. Hiding the evidence no doubt.

She opens her side of the closet. Reaching in she freezes seeing his side only holds empty hangers. Tamara’s breath catches in her throat and she sinks down on the bed.

Shit.

He’s moved out. Tamara bursts into tears.

Bastard.

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125

autumn leaves against a bright blue sky

Elsie sits in a coffee shop, poring over the browser. There are only a few possible rooms for rent left, and so far nothing has been even close.

All of these rooms are places with families, for god’s sakes.

The last thing she wants is a basement apartment with a precocious five year old at home rifling through her things, or the one where the Italian Mama is gonna watch her like a hawk to ensure she doesn’t seduce one of the sons. Or worse yet tries to fix her up with one.

Isn’t it possible to live privately anymore? She shakes her head and dials the number of the next one.

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126

Swan swimming along the river, taken at Stratford, ON

Ethan and Liz walk along the waterfront, taking pictures of seagulls, boats and each other. It’s a beautiful day, great for wandering. A day for getting to know each other.

They end up in his old neighborhood, or what’s left of it, and Ethan shows her around his hometown. He tells her about the neighborhood where he grew up. About the house where the neighborhood witch lived, the one that cast the spell on him that made him fall out of her apple tree and break his arm. But the witch’s house is gone, replaced by a parking lot.

Most of what Ethan shows Liz are the new buildings standing in the places where his personal history was forged. He shows her where the library his Mom used to bring him used to be, before it was torn down to make room for a burger joint. Before she married the jerk. The elementary school Ethan attended has long since been supplanted by the Waterfront Mall.

Liz finds herself warmed by the intimacy of seeing the world through Ethan’s eyes as he shares his memories. As the sun is going down, they are walking hand in hand through the park at the water’s edge, heading back to catch the bus back to Christie, Liz just has to ask, “Why won’t you talk to the cops, Ethan?”

He stares out across the water. He doesn’t want to look at her, afraid what he’ll see in her eyes.

“I don’t like cops.” he says, quietly.

“Well, where were you that afternoon?”

Ethan shrugs. “Recording Professor Mol’s lecture for the graduating class.”

“Well, why didn’t you just tell them? That’s a great alibi. It’s fantastic. Don’t you see, it proves you’re innocent.”

Ethan shrugs. “They can find out themselves.”

Liz stops and flops down on a bench overlooking the water.
It takes Ethan a minute to realize she’s stopped walking with him, and he turns around and goes back to sit beside her.

“What?”

“The cops are wasting time thinking you’re a suspect.”

“Fuck ’em if they can’t take a joke.”

Liz flushes with anger. “Do you want people to think it was you? The cops aren’t going to find the real rapist if they think you’re it. They might not even look. It’s not a joke, Ethan.”

“I know it’s no joke, Liz, but I was in Toronto during the G20 and I will never forget that shit. Reading the articles and seeing interviews after, well, the official line did not match what I saw. So I don’t trust cops any more. So I don’t talk to them. Ever.”

“But that was a different time and place.”

“Long as cops aren’t accountable, they do what they want.”

“But it wasn’t even these cops.”

“Doesn’t matter, babe. I guess the Toronto cops had their reasons for arresting people who didn’t do anything. These cops might have their reasons too. I don’t know. I’ll bet the school is leaning on them really hard to catch the guy. They might not even care if its the right guy. Well, it’s not going to be me. It comes down to it, I’m not going to be the fall guy if they don’t catch the real rapist.”

Liz is shocked. “You don’t think they’d do that?”

“I don’t know, but I’m not willing to risk my freedom to find out.”

Liz reaches over and squeezes his hand. “That’s okay, I wouldn’t want you to.”

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127

back of a blonde woman's head, hair twisted together.

Krystal vigorously dries her hair. Shaking it free in front of the mirror, she admires the new gold highlights before switching on the CD.

As music blares she starts her exercise routine. Admiring her body as she works her way through the well worn moves she wonders again why Jose hasn’t asked her out.

Surely Oscar will have told Jose her sad story by now. That guy can’t keep his mouth shut to save his life.

Well. It’s bound to happen, if not Oscar, its only a matter of time before Maggie or Jake spills it. All Krystal needs is one date with Jose. Sure as shit pity will get him into her bed, and once there her newly sculpted bod ought to pin him to the sheets for as long as she wants him. Oh yes.

Who says you can’t always get what you want?

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128

Police car

monday

Lewis smiles sweetly as Neil Molony and his powerful uncle come in to the conference room.

It irks her that she was told to use this room room instead of one of the grubby interrogation rooms. Whatever happened to the law being blind? Lewis finds it offensive to have to give a connected perp special treatment. But the bosses deemed the regular interrogation rooms too low rent for a high stakes player like Uncle M. Which simply serves to make her want to get Uncle M in a choke hold and put him on the floor. She pushes the urge down. Maybe next time. If there is a next time.

Still, it doesn’t matter. She can feel waves of darkness pouring from Colm Molony. He is one ticked off lawyer. And his discomfiture is a soothing balm to her soul.

Neil Molony’s skin has that freshly scrubbed look. The effect is that all signs of his arrogance appear to have been washed away. He keeps his eyes downcast as he takes the seat Wolfrom offers across the table. As Lewis sits beside Wolfrom the senior Molony goes around to join his nephew, but instead of sitting the older man stands behind the adjacent chair, setting his briefcase on the seat before resting his hands on the chair back. Anything but subdued.

Colm Molony may well resent being here but he knows that there was no choice. Which is why he’s made this grudging appearance at the police station on this lovely autumn day.

Lewis abruptly pulls out the chair beside Wolfrom and sits, laying her handful of file folders on the table.

“I’m not quite certain why you insisted on seeing Neil today, Detective Lewis.”

“It isn’t a big secret, counselor.” Lewis says, without bothering to look up. She opens the folder on top of the stack and pulls out a lab report, which she slides across the table.

“The DNA report is in. We have a definite match.”

Molony pulls out the chair and sits. He holds out his hand and Lewis passes him the report. He flips through it, pausing here and there. “I’ll need a copy of this.” Lewis nods.

Neil squirms in his seat. “But I didn’t…” Colm holds up his a hand and the young man subsides.

“The report indicates that the evidence was acquired from cigarette butts.”

Lewis nods. “Yes, that’s right.”

“Old cigarette butts.” continues Molony.

“They had some wear but there’s no telling how long they’d been there.”

“That’s my point, Detective. The cigarette butts were not fresh, they could have been left there at any time.”

“Oh sure,” Wolfrom volunteers. But we have Neil’s statement denying he was ever there. This is proves he was.” Both Molonys turn their attention on the formerly silent partner.

“There’s indication the butts were left over a substantial period of time. Time when young Neil spent hours concealed in those bushes. In that spot, watching the girls go by, getting the lay of the land. Premeditating, as it were.”

Neil explodes out of his seat. “No. You’ve got it all wrong. I didn’t do that…”

Colm says. “Neil” in a cautionary paternal voice.

Neil waves him off. “No! I will not shut up because I’m the one they want to put in jail. Yes, I was there but that was months ago. I didn’t attack anyone.”

“What were you doing there then?”

“I was just…” Neil blinks as the realization of what he’s just admitted to hits home. “Just watching girls.” He looks hopefully at Wolfrom, who just stares back, not giving any encouragement.

Lewis says, “Back when it was still warm, you mean.”

Colm Molony glares at Neil, who deliberately ignores his uncle. Neil turns almost gratefully to Lewis.

“I went biking there in the summer and I had a blow out and the bike went off the path. I sat on the stump to fix the tire there and I … I heard girls giggling.”

“Neil, don’t.”

Ignoring his uncle, Neil says, “I looked up and I could see them going by on the path, but they couldn’t see me. It was, it was, well just a good spot. You know, a nice place to watch the girls. A terrific place to watch girls, really, because I could watch them but they didn’t see me. That’s all. It was a long time ago.”

Dubious, Lewis says, “I don’t know Neil, there were a lot of cigarette butts there. You went there a lot.”

Quiet, he lowers his eyes again. “Yes.”

“You expect me to believe that you just stopped going?”

“That’s what happened. One day I just decided it was too much trouble.” He looks at Lewis, trying to decide if she’s buying it.

“You know, too far from work, too far from home.”

“So you just stopped?”

Surly as the attitude seeps back. “Yeah, I just stopped.”

“Why would you do that Neil? Perfect spot to watch girls. Must have made you feel really powerful to be able to watch them without them knowing you were there.”

“Something like that.”

Lewis leans across to him, speaking in a softer tone, “In a situation like that, I expect that while you watched the girls, you had to find something to do with your hands…”

Colm Molony slams his fist on the table. “That is it Detective. We are done.”

Molony stands up and turns to the young man, “Come along Neil.”

Neil looks up at his uncle and says, “No Uncle Colm. I am not done. I did find something to do with my hands. I jacked off and watched the girls go by, and it was just great.” He closes his eyes and smiles. “Just fucking great.”

Colm sits back down. “Neil, you have to stop talking now.” he turns back to Lewis, “Detective we need five minutes alone.”

“No!” Neil’s voice cracks, “I have to tell them and I’m gonna. I have to tell them, don’t you see? You won’t listen to me. Nobody ever listens to me. I have to tell it now ’cause I do not want to go to jail. So shut the fuck up, Uncle Colm, and let me tell my god damn story.”

Colm Molony slumps back in his chair as though struck.

Feeling his power, Neil tells Lewis, “So yeah, that’s what I was doing in those bushes. I went to watch. And it was incredible because I was invisible. I could look where I wanted and not get any grief. The stupid bitches didn’t ever see me. But you know, after a while, well,” he shakes his head ruefully, “watching just wasn’t enough anymore.”

The elder Molony watches incredulous as his nephew reveals a side he has never seen before, and it isn’t pretty. How could this… this… creature possibly be related to him? It’s simply inconceivable. This confession has to stop, there is no way this can be allowed to get out in this town.

God, the firm could be embarrassed. Possibly even ruined. He would be a pariah. Why in gods name did he give this fucking little prick a pity job. Family responsibility. Shit. What did his bloody family ever do for him. And how did he end up with a brother dumb enough to father … this …. this … pervert.

“After a while it was as though. It wasn’t as good being invisible. It was, I don’t know, somehow it was beneath me. I’m as good as everybody else, right?”

“And I started thinking … I guess that’s when I started thinking that maybe the best thing to do would be to … to show them. I wanted to show them so badly. You know these girls, blonde, gorgeous with legs up to there … they would be going past in their little groups, you know? You can’t talk to them when they’re in packs. Not those girls and I knew… I just knew I wouldn’t be able to do anything. Uh, could I get some water?”

Wolfram pours a glass of water and hands it to Neil, who takes a sip, clearly relishing the attention, the suspense.

Neil nods, “Then… then one day there was a girl by herself, she wasn’t walking very fast because she was carrying too much stuff, and I was… I really needed, you know, needed something, and I had been pounding the meat, but it wasn’t as good anymore. It wasn’t good enough any more. So I decided well … so then I came out of the bushes to show her and she … and she,” all eyes are on him and his voice fades and he swallows before finishing, “She … she … just laughed.” His jaw tightens, and he is overcome with emotion.

Colm can’t believe it. The rotten kid’s eyes are filling up.

Neil isn’t just disgusting, he’s pitiful. If you’re gonna be a god damned pervert at least be a man about it.

Neil savagely rubs his eyes and his demeanor turns surly. He can feel his uncle’s contempt. In a twisted way it gives him the strength to go on. He stares at his uncle with glittering eyes, as if willing his uncle to really see him. Prick.

Neil takes a breath and plunges on, “That nasty assed bitch just laughed and laughed. I couldn’t believe it and, well, it was too much for any man. So I grabbed my bike and took off.
“That was the last time. I couldn’t go back there. Don’t you see? I’d give anything to be able to go back there, back the way it was before. Just to watch. But I can’t. I just can’t.”

Neil is starting to whine, stung by the injustice of it all. Why did it have to happen to him? He’s special, his mother always told him he was special. Well, until she dumped hime with insufferable Uncle Colm.

“That bitch laughing at me, that was, that was the end. I don’t even ride my damned bike up there any more. I just couldn’t. I mean I can’t. What if I saw her again? What if she laughed at me again. It’s just … there is no way. There is no way… I didn’t do anything to anyone. I just stopped going there, I haven’t even been there in weeks. It wasn’t me, raped that girl. I can’t even go there. Just don’t put me in fucking jail, okay?”

Neil buries his face in his hands and starts sniveling. Colm looks away. Incredible. This alien thing can’t really be his own flesh and blood. A wienie wagger. Unbelievable. And what’s worse, not even a good one. A wimp. A bloody wimpy wienie wagger. By god, if you’re going to be a pervert, be a world class pervert. Like Bernardo, say. Make your name stand for something. Striking terror in the hearts of men is far better than inspiring contempt. Sniggers. What in God’s name did he ever do to deserve this indignity?

Lewis and Wolfrom exchange glances. Without saying a word they are agreed. They’ve got this kid cold on exposing himself but there is no way this kid did the rape. First offense. And they just know Uncle M is gonna pull every string in reach to keep this one out of the media.
Lewis feels the revulsion building. In her mind’s eye she can see Neil smirking as he assaults Eve Brooks in the elevator. She wants to slap the little bastard silly, knee him in the groin, stomp his pitiful little pecker into paste so that the bastard never gets the chance to hurt anybody ever again.
Except the little fucker is going to walk. Maybe there is something to the ‘rape culture’ theory.

Goddamnitalltohell.

She feels Wolfie’s look of concern and she takes a breath, gets hold of herself and pulls it back in, pushes it down. Lewis breathes, and her vision returns to normal.

Good old Wolfie. He’s walking talking proof that there are good men still. Easy to forget in the job. But if nothing else, being police teaches you to choose your battles. Mostly.

Colm Molony clears his throat. “I have to say I had no idea.” Incredulity gives way to self preservation soon enough though. “I think it is safe to say that my nephew is in need of professional help here. Perhaps…”

Lewis cuts him off. “Perhaps, but we need to bring in the crown prosecutor on this one to look at disposition. Mr. Molony.”

Molony glares. “You can’t just..?”

Lewis shakes her head. “No sir. There are protocols.”

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