CHAPTER 29: MY SECRET ENEMY

Lisa “Left Eye” Lopes feat. T-Boz

Now you lay me down to sleep (That was then, but this is now)/

I pray the Lord my soul to take (I let you slip away somehow)/

If I shall die before I wake (If I shall die my pain shall stay)/

I pray the Lord my soul to take (I made you what you are today)

Now as I look at myself I'm seeing someone familiar/ Staring back at me through every deep crack that's in my mirror/ And as I think to myself I'm hearing somebody else scream at me/ I no longer hear them...Could it be the unknown sneaking into my zone/ Off we roam my spirituals are not alone/ I'm visualizing this invisible clone/ It’s my own, and on/ Rest to sure it’s my dome/ Maybe I need to go to bed/ Could've sworn I just hear that voice up in my head/ Not while I raps/ When it hits me, but now it’s laughing at me/ Yo what the hell is happening please somebody slap me./ No way not another physical display/ Something must got me cracking up from way back in the day/ But what can it be I can’t recall the memory/ So if I may ask/ I just seen you yesterday/ It’s my fuckin past

By any means is what it ever seemed to be/ This reminiscing with my past has got me caught up in a daydream/ Stay in bed, with niggas who can pay the rent

Spending my green on pantyhose and tight jeans/ I used to be so amused/ Of the tools That I used/ To break rules only seemed to confuse/ As to who playing the fool place yourself in my shoes/ My blessed look of innocence was never refused

Now that I choose to abide (hello left eye)/ And put my past to the side (well I guess I)/ And kill a piece of my pride (need to introduce myself, you already said hi)/ So you’re the match that lights my fuse (amuse)/ I thought I left you on that cruise (No you see your man took my place when it threw me in your face)

So we drank up all booze/ Sing the blues/ And yo we end up on the news

Gotta get away from the past/ If I make it I just might last/ Gotta get away from the past/ Trying to escape but it’s moving too fast/ My secret enemy/ You’re not a friend to me

LINDSAY

I can’t believe these rags I’m looking at. My mother has come back here with these fucking throwback garments that look like they’re from the sixties. She calls them vintage; I call them BULLSHIT! No way am I walking around in clothes making me look like Donna-fucking-Reed! I’d rather walk around naked. So that’s what I decide to do.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you, Lindsay. There are plenty of people who go without decent clothing daily. You don’t want to be one of them. Since you’ve destroyed all of your clothing in your fit of rage, and I am giving you these until you can replace your own, you’ll wear them and be grateful you aren’t walking around stark naked.”

“Fuck you, Mother. I wouldn’t be caught dead in these threadbare rags you’ve brought back here! How is it that you are dressed in an Anne Klein suit and I am not? I’m your daughter! It is your duty to provide for me, or at least help me out until I can do it for myself. I’m 31 years old! Dressing in these rags will have me looking as if I’m your age.”

Instead of the response I expected, she just laughed. “Wow! You have such a high opinion of yourself, and it isn’t even warranted. You could never exude the grace, bearing, or self-assurance I have at my age. After all, I live well, while you’re… well you’re YOU. The least you could have done was be a trollop to a well-to-do man, instead of being a trailer-trash whore, fucking in the front seat of your car like some oversexed teenager! Well, no matter. I’ll take these back and you can wear what you’ve been wearing.”

“You can’t be serious?!”

“I am. Unless, of course, you choose to accept these clothes in the manner that I was prepared to give them to you.”

I glare at her, while she simply stares back at me. I can tell that she won’t budge, and I find myself getting even more pissed off at her power play. Fucking Nancy! Well that’s alright, because… well now that I’ve found the emergency credit card in the kitchen, I shall do my own shopping, even if I have to look like fucking Mary Tyler Moore for a time while doing it. BITCH!

“Fine, Mother. But after I get dressed, I’m going out for awhile. Clarence and I have a lunch date.”

“Glad you’ve wised up, Lindsay. They wouldn’t admit you at the country club in that ratty t-shirt and those idiot, college-kid pajama pants.”

I grab the sky-blue summer suit from her hands, scowling as I make my way to the restroom for a shower. As I stand under the water, I let the idea of sweet revenge wash over me. I need to leave as soon as I’m finished dressing in that ridiculous get up if I’m going to make Inez’s shop before she goes to lunch. With that thought in mind, I alight from the shower and move through the rest of my ablutions with a plan and a purpose.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ADLS

RON

Nancy arrives back into the kitchen with a self-satisfied look on her face.

“I know that look, my Fancy-girl. What have you done?”

“Oh nothing, Darling. Just convinced Lindsay that the Donna Reed look is all she’ll be getting from us. You’ve made sure she found it?”

I turn the back of the coffeemaker around where I placed our ‘emergency’ credit card before unplugging it, prior to us leaving the house this morning. That was Clarence’s idea when I was just going to leave it accidently-on-purpose on the counter, or on the floor. But in thinking it over, the one thing we realized was that Lindsay didn’t have her coffee, preferring to scream like a banshee first thing this morning. Nancy smiles at me as I whisper, “Check.”

We hear the door close and Nancy pulls out her cell phone. “Hello Inez, it’s Nancy Peterson. You’re about to have a visitor with a stolen credit card. No dear, let her use it. Ron will be by in a little while to make sure you’re well compensated for your trouble, and for staying open a little past the time you would normally go to check on Dorthea. Don’t worry, dear. Okay, we’ll talk soon. Give hugs to your mom from us.” As she hangs up, she kisses me passionately. “Checkmate.”

I then lead her upstairs for a little mid-morning delight, before I’m due to make an appearance at Inez’s shop. Since I plan to fuck Nancy nice and slow, it should give us plenty of time to make sure Lindsay is equally thorough while she fucks herself over.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ADLS

MICHAEL

My head still feels like a truck exploded in it. I just woke up from the most amazing dream, where I had everything I’ve ever wanted: the man, the money, the two kids, a house of my own, and a dog. It was set right after Brian had kicked that little fucker out, because his loft was burglarized. That was probably the best day of my life… Well it was, until Ma made us go retrieve the little bubble-butt bastard!

But the dream seemed so real. Brian was kissing me, telling me that he had been a fool to be so blind to all I had offered him. We were just about to make love! So it is with more than a little surprise that I find myself looking around to see the dingy surroundings, only adorned by some steel gray bars. The dank smell assaults my nose, as I look over to the corner and see where I’m supposed to perform the bodily functions I always must upon waking up.

Suddenly, my bowels break loose as I realize that there is no door. The toilet itself appears to have not had a proper cleaning in the last century, let alone the last day. My stomach roils at the thought of using it, even as the painful memories of last night remind me of not only where I am, but how I actually came to be here… in jail, while that fucking blond twink is free to be with Brian! How the fuck had Lindsay’s foolproof plan backfired in all of our faces like this? Before I can really work out what’s happened, I notice that I’m being watched from outside of my cell.

The officer at the desk is scrutinizing me as if I’m about to steal something. Not that there is anything of value in here, but even if there was, I wouldn’t want it. No, the only thing of value to me is outside of this cell, probably fucking himself unconscious with Justin Taylor! Just the thought of that makes me cringe, and I want to hurl; the smell in this fleabag establishment encourages the action. And as I empty the contents of my stomach, the fact that I am bent over worshipping this unsanitary steel god, makes me wretch even more, much to the delight of the officer.

“I take it you’ve finally processed where you are?” He says to me.

“What the hell are you talking about? And why are you laughing at me? I see nothing funny at all!”

He shrugs, still chuckling. “Not that I owe you an explanation at all, but I’ll tell you. First, you whine, even in your sleep. A LOT! You should probably stop doing that. Your next cellmate won’t like it anymore than the last one did. Secondly, you should probably avoid all mirrors, or anything that reflects back at you. You might actually scare yourself since your face looks like Apollo Creed, Rocky, Clubber Lane, Muhammad Ali, Sugar Ray Leonard, George Forman, and Mike Tyson used your face for practice. And third, I could see the hamster in your head, running itself into exhaustion. Hopefully, he’ll wake up and press charges against you, too!” He laughs as if he just said the most hilarious thing in the world.

My annoyance at this lack of civil compassion ratchets up as he continues to laugh at me. I really hate people who do that! It’s okay if someone else is the butt of everyone’s joke, especially when I'm the one telling it, but… And that was another thing Brian did for me. He protected me from people like this bully with a badge.

“Whatever! I want my phone call now!” I barely suppress the urge to stomp my foot at his continued disregard.

“Sure, but you should probably check that entitled attitude you have. Although by law I have to give you this phone call, the person on the other end of the phone might not be so accommodating. Oh, and I should also warn you that you are not to contact your co-conspirators, nor Brian Kinney and Justin Taylor. The latter two people have restraining orders issued against you, and calling either of them would violate it. As for your two cohorts, all calls from prisoners are recorded. Calling them would get you even more jail time, since you'll no doubt call to complain to the one who is still momentarily free. So you’re lucky you’re here with me, since I’m saving you from doing that. But don’t get my altruism twisted, I’m not doing it for you. Whereas just for the sake of continued hilarity, I would have encouraged you to do so, I happen to like the arresting officer much too much for him to have to deal with you any longer than he must.”

I narrow my eyes, wondering for a moment to whom he was referring. Then, it hits me! The overblown bastard my mother is seeing arrested me last night after Boy Wonder threw a punch at me! That’s something else that needs to be addressed. But first, I have to get my mother to see that her new boyfriend threw her SON in jail, while letting the real criminal go free.

“Fine. But believe me, I wouldn’t contact Justin Taylor if my ass was on fire, and he was the only one with the water to put it out!”

“Kinney either?” He taunts as he lets me out of the cell, after handcuffing me. I mean, seriously! Where the fuck would I go? Walking me over to the chair, he frees one of my hands in order to chain me to the chair I’m to sit in. “You have two minutes.” He says, as he sits down in front of me.

“Uh, a little privacy?! Don’t you have a Dunkin’ Donuts run to make or something?”

“Obviously not, since I seem to be in better shape than you are. Besides, although you’re entitled to make your phone call, privacy is NOT something you are entitled to! So you would do well to make your phone call, stop insulting me, and think about how you’re going to beg the person to post bail should the judge grant it.”

I dial the number I’ve known all my life, while looking at the clock. She should be at work by now. I roll my eyes as a familiar voice that’s not my mother comes over the line.

“Liberty Diner, how may I help you?”

“Kiki, I want to speak with my mother right now!”

“Well until you can ask better than that, Michael, you’re old enough for your wants to remain unanswered, and not hurt you.”  

I strive for patience, as I really am NOT in the mood for tranny-bitch’s taunts today. “Look Kiki, I’m sorry but I’m really in a bad spot and need to speak to Ma.”

“Thank you for the apology, Michael. And yes… you are sorry in more ways than one, I’m sure. As for your request to speak to Deb, I’m afraid she’s not here.”

“Well where is she?! Nevermind! When she comes back, tell her to get down to the Pittsburgh Police Station here on Liberty and bail me out.”

“Tell her or ask her?”

“Whichever one will get me the fuck out of here!”

“That should be an interesting conversation to have. Well, bye now!”

I look at the phone in disbelief as the dial tone buzzes in my ear. I can’t believe she hung up on me without letting me know she’ll tell Ma! I go to dial the Diner back and find the phone wrenched out of my hand. “What the…”

“One phone call; you’ve had it. It’s time to go back to your cell now,” Officer No-Name tells me, while uncuffing me and pulling me to my feet. Hmm, can I… “Better stop thinking about it, Mr. Novotny. You’d never make it to the door. Also, it would give me great pleasure to shoot you in your ass, not that you have much of a target to begin with. I’ve seen twigs with more of a behind!”

He ushers me back to the cell, shoving me in and slamming the door extra hard. The clang-clang sound of the doors, effectively cut off all momentary thoughts I had of escape. He’s chuckling again at my expense, and I wish I had thought to look at his badge while I was close upon him. I certainly will be filing a formal complaint about his lack of sympathy when the judge releases me after Ma posts my bail. He shouldn’t be around people!

I settle in to wait for Ma, and wonder where the hell Ethan has gotten off to. I still have a shit-load to say to him! He is going to have to answer for a whole lot, beginning with why the fuck he couldn't keep his end of the bargain. I mean, look at all I was able to accomplish with the advent of Rage, and all it took was befriending the fucker for a short time; he didn't even suspect a thing. So Ethan should've been able to maintain what I started by keeping the brain-damaged, pain in my ass distracted and under control. 

As if I’d spoken aloud, Officer Too-fucking-Jolly volunteers the information about Ethan's vanishing act. “Oh by the way, if you’re looking for your greasy friend, he’s in a holding cell on the main floor, waiting to find out if his plea deal is going to be accepted.”

“Plea deal? Again, what the hell are you babbling about?!” I ask, annoyed.

He smiles at me, and I can tell there’s pure evilness in it when he says, “Apparently, he’s had an attack of conscience… Well, as much as he can since there really isn’t any honor among thieves. You’ve heard that before, right? Well anyway, he’s happily giving his statement about his involvement with you, which includes detailed accounts about several of your other charges. That also supports the possibility of charging you with a hate crime, since everything you did was motivated by your intense dislike of all things Justin Taylor. But I digress… the DA is going to decide the official charges once she speaks to your victim, although by the looks of it, he came out the winner, at least physically.” He chuckles again. I fucking hate that sound!   

Ma needs to hurry up and get me out of here. I need to get Brian to make Justin drop this shit! I don’t give a fuck about any damn restraining order! There's nothing that can keep me from him. Plus he can’t find out about the… oh shit, if he finds that out... Brian has to see me! He will see me; he loves me dammit! He’ll make that little asshole do the right thing and drop this shit before I find myself in jail permanently. If he doesn’t, then Brian and our children will be out of my reach forever, dooming my kids to life with Lindsay.

I physically and mentally shudder at that thought...

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ADLS

MEL

The doorbell rings so I get up to answer it. I already know who it is, but I’m surprised that Garrett is with her. I always thought… well nevermind, what I thought. Although, now that her divorce is final… Again Marcus, mind your own business, I yell at myself. My look of internal reprimand must have shown on my face since it is met with a shining smile from hers.

“We’ll talk about that later, but it helped tremendously to have the video feed. Lawrence didn’t have a first, second, or third leg to stand on. I suppose he thought that since I primarily deal with Criminal law, I wouldn’t have knowledge of how divorce law worked. More fool him, since I got everything. But anyway, you should read this...” Annette tells me as she and Garrett step through the door.

As I peruse the documented confession of Ethan Gold, the first words out of my mouth are, “You’ve gotta be shitting me!”

“Not at all, Mel.”

“I know you said he confessed, but this…” I flip the page to keep reading. “How the fuck are Brian and Justin going to take this?”

“I don’t know, but if it works out…”

“Not only will Michael be going to jail, but so will Lindsay. The potential children aside, this… Oh my God, what fucking lowlifes!”

“Yeah… I guess we should go tell them.”

We moved towards the living room, where everyone was gathered. If Lindsay thought her ass was free and clear from the suggestions about stealing from Justin before, how will he take being framed for the burglary of Brian’s loft last year?