Nancy A. Collins, page 22
Carl once more whispered something to Gary, never taking his eyes off Louise. “The skirt. Take it off.”
Her hands found the fastener at her waist. Plastic teeth purred on plastic zipper and her skirt dropped to the floor, a dark puddle at her ankles. She took a step forward, abandoning her clothes.
Carl murmured into Gary’s ear. She unhooked her bra, revealing her breasts. Her skin was milky white and decorated by dark aureole. Her nipples were painfully erect and as hard as corn kernels.
On Carl’s relayed command she skinned herself free of her pantyhose. When the cool air struck her damp pubic patch, her clitoris stirred, Gary moved towards her, bringing Carl with him.
She gasped aloud when Gary’s hands touched her breasts. His thumbs flicked expertly over her nipples, sending shudders of pleasure through her. Then one hand was between her legs, teasing her thatch and gently massaging her.
Louise felt her knees buckle and she grabbed hold of Gary’s shoulders to keep from falling backwards. Her eyes opened and she found herself staring into Carl’s dark, intense eyes. She felt a brief surge of shame that her orgasm had become a spectator event, then Gary worked a finger past her labia and sank it to the second joint. Louise groaned aloud and all thoughts of shame disappeared.
He moved swiftly and quietly, wrapping her in his powerful arms and lifting her bodily. She felt a different form of pleasure now, as if she was once more within her father’s safe embrace.
He moved down the narrow hall, past the cramped bathroom alcove and into the tiny bedroom at the back of the trailer. He lowered her trembling body onto the bed, draping her legs over the edge of the mattress.
His left hand continued to trace delicate patterns along her exposed flesh while his right loosened the harness that held Carl in place. He only halted his exploration of her body when he moved to free his burden.
Louise saw that Carl was dressed in a flannel shirt identical to Gary’s, except that the empty sleeves had been pinned up and the shirt tail folded back on itself and fastened shut, just like a diaper. Gary removed the shirt and Louise swore out loud.
Even on a normal man’s body Carl’s penis would have been unusually large. It stood red and erect against the thick dark hair of his belly. Louise was so taken aback she scarcely noticed the smooth lumps of flesh that should have been Carl’s arms and legs.
Gary positioned Carl’s naked torso between her spread thighs. His gaze met and held her own so intently Louise almost forgot the absurd perversity of what they were doing.
“We love you,” said Gary and shoved Carl on top of her.
Louise cried out as Carl penetrated her. It had been a long time since she’d last been with a man, and she had never known one of such proportions. She involuntarily contracted her hips, taking him in deeper. Gary’s right hand kneaded the flesh of her breasts. His left hand helped Carl move. She could also feel something warm and damp just below her breasts. She suddenly realized it was Carl’s face.
Gary’s face was closer to hers now, his eyes mirroring her heat. She snared a handful of his hair, drawing him closer. His mouth was warm and wet as he clumsily returned her kiss. She felt the quivering that signaled the approach of orgasm and her moans became cries, giving voice to an exquisite wounding. Her hips bucked wildly with each spasm, but Carl refused to be unseated.
As she lay dazed and gasping in her own sweat, she was dimly aware of him still working between her legs. Then there was a deep groan, muffled by her own flesh, and she felt him stiffen and then relax.
Louise rarely experienced orgasms during intercourse. She had been unprepared for such intensity; it was if Gary had stuck his finger in her brain and swirled everything around so she was no longer sure what she thought or knew.
No. Not Gary. Carl.
The thought made her catch her breath and she raised herself onto her elbows, staring down at the thing cradled between her thighs. Carl’s face was still buried in her breast. She touched his hair and felt him start from the unexpected contact. It was the first time since their strange rut had begun that she’d acknowledged his presence.
She felt Gary watching her as she moved back further onto the bed. Carl remained curled at the foot of the mattress, his eyes fixed on her. Gary stood in the narrow space between the bed and the dresser, his hands at his side.
“What about you? Aren’t you interested?” Her voice was hoarse. Gary did not meet her gaze as he shifted his weight from foot to foot.
“What’s the matter? Is it me?”
His head jerked up. “No! It’s not you. You’re fine. It’s just…” He fell silent and looked to Carl, who nodded slightly.
Gary took a deep breath and loosened his belt buckle. His manner had changed completely. His movements had lost their previous grace. Biting his lower lip and tensing as if in anticipation of a blow, he dropped his pants.
Gary’s sex organs were the size of a two year old child’s. They lay smooth and exposed like fragile spring blossoms, his pubic area as hairless as his face. His eyes remained cast down.
Louise’s lips twisted into a wry smile. She had willingly serviced a freak in order to please her long-awaited Prince, only to find him gelded. Yet all she could feel for the handsome near-man was sorrow.
“You poor thing. You poor, poor thing.” She reached out and touched his hand, drawing him into the warmth of her arms. Surprised, Gary eagerly returned her embrace. To her own surprise, she reached down to pull Carl toward her. The three of them lay together on the bed like a nest of snakes, Louise gently caressing her lovers. After awhile Gary began to talk.
“I’ve known Carl since we were kids. My mama used to cook and clean for his folks and I kept Carl company. His mama and daddy were real rich; that’s how they could afford to keep him home. At least his mama wanted him home. Carl’s daddy drank a lot and used to say how it wasn’t his fault in front of Carl. I knew how he felt. About having your daddy hate you because of the way you was born. Maybe that’s why me and Carl made such good friends. You see, I can’t read so good. And I’m really bad with math and things like that. My daddy got mad at my mama when they found out what was wrong with me and ran away. I never really went to school. When Carl was five, his daddy got real mad and started kickin’ him. And Carl hadn’t even done anything bad! He kicked Carl in the throat and they took him to the hospital. That’s why Carl can’t talk too good. But he’s real smart! Smarter than most people with arms and legs! He knows a lot about history and math and important stuff like that. Carl tells me what to say and how to act and what to do so people don’t know I’ve got something wrong with me. If people knew I wasn’t smart they’d be even meaner to us.” He exchanged a warm, brotherly smile with the silent man and squeezed him where his shoulder should have been. “Carl looks after me. I’m his arms and legs and voice and he’s my brain and, you know.” He blushed.
“You’re lucky. Both of you. Not everyone is as … whole.”
“But we’re not!” He folded her hands inside his own. “Not really. That’s why we’ve been traveling. We’ve been trying to find the last part of us. The part that will make us whole.”
Louise did not know what to say to this, so she simply kissed him. Sometime later they fell asleep, Carl’s torso curled between them like a dozing pet.
The alarm went off at eight-thirty, jarring Louise from a dreamless sleep. She lay there for a moment, staring at Gary then Carl. She should have felt soiled, but there no indignation inside her. She gently shook Gary’s beautiful naked shoulder.
“It’s morning already. The filling station must be open by now. You can get your tire fixed.”
“Yes.” His voice sounded strangely hollow.
She got out of the rumpled bed, careful to keep from kicking Carl, and put on a housecoat. Now that it was daylight she felt embarrassed to be naked. She hurried into the kitchen and made coffee.
Gary emerged from the bedroom, dressed, with Carl once more harnessed to his back. She handed him two mugs, one black and one with cream and sugar, and watched, a faint smile on her lips, as they repeated their one-as-two act.
After they’d finished, Gary picked his parka up and laid it across one arm. He glanced first at her then angled his head so that he was as close to face-to-face with his passenger as possible. After a moment’s silent communion, he once more turned to look at her, and his eyes lost their focus. Carl’s lips moved at his ear and Louise could hear the faint rasping of his ruined voice.
Gary spoke like a man reading back dictation.
“Louise…you’re a wonderful woman …I know you’re not attracted to me, that’s understandable …but I see something in you that might, some day…respond to me too…”
As Gary continued his halting recitation, Louise’s gaze moved from his face to Carl’s. For the first time since she’d met them, she really looked at him. She studied his plain, everyday face and his brown eyes. As she listened the voice she heard was Carl’s and she felt something inside her change.
“We’ll stop back after we get the tire repaired …It’s up to you …We shouldn’t be more than a hour at the most. Please think about it.” Gary began to put his parka on, but before the jacket hid Carl completely she darted forward and kissed both of them. First Gary, and then, with great care, Carl. They paused for a second and then smiled. Louise stood in the middle of the trailer, hugging herself against the morning cold, as she watched her lovers leave. Funny. She’d always imagined her Prince having blue eyes…
THE CONFEDERATE STATES OF DREAD
* * *
THE KILLER
In Ferriday, Louisiana, September 29th, 1935, a woman went into labor in a tiny clapboard house, a mad dog howling outside the window. The delivery was a difficult one, lasting several hours. The beast bayed like one of Satan’s own hounds as the child entered the world, then disappeared as mysteriously and suddenly as it first appeared.
Jerry Lee was his parent’s second son, born into a household already troubled by economic hard times and domestic violence. He was a frail, sickly child the first few years of his life. Slender and pale, with golden curly hair, he bore a strong resemblance to his mother, Mamie. His father, a robust and masculine figure, clearly preferred his first born son and namesake, Elmo, Jr. Mamie doted on Jerry Lee, refusing to cut his long, blonde curls for the first three years of his life, and often dressing him as a girl, complete with petticoats and hair ribbons. However, in 1938, his life changed forever, putting him on the left-hand path that he would follow to its dark conclusion, thirty years later.
Little is known about Jerry Lee’s relationship with his older brother, outside of what he himself has admitted to in interviews. Apparently young Jerry Lee adored Elmo, Jr., who was five years his senior, and did not resent him being his father’s favorite. During the in-depth psychiatric examination given to determine his sanity after his arrest for the Presley-Montessi murders, Jerry Lee spoke warmly of his elder brother and showed what appeared to be genuine emotion when recalling Elmo, Jr.‘s fate.
“Junior was my bubba, you know? I looked up to him on account of him being bigger and stronger than me. I used to be a real tag-along, following him and his friends when they’d go out crawdaddin’ or stealin’ apples from Old Man Pritchard’s orchard. It used to bug him sometimes, since I was just a squirt and couldn’t run as fast or climb as good as him, but I think he was flattered, too. He hardly ever told me to stay home, even though some of his friends made it pretty clear they didn’t want no snot-nosed young’un taggin’ after them.”
“I was with him the day it happened. I saw it happen. We was walking down the dirt road that lead into Ferriday. It was a Saturday and mama had dipped into the egg money so’s we could go into town and watch us a movie. Hopalong Cassidy was playing and we both were hurtin’ to see it. We was walking down the road, well onto the shoulder, each of us with a quarter in our pockets, when this old Ford Model-T comes barreling down on us. Junior was walking on the outside, and damned if that Model-T don’t strike him dead on.
“I remember seeing Junior fly up in the air all of a sudden and land hard, his arms and legs twisted all funny. The bastard driving the car stops for a second, looks back over his shoulder, and then speeds off. Turns out he was drunk and later that day he plowed his car into a tree in the next parish over, punching the steering wheel through his chest. It comforts me knowing God punished that sinner straight and true.”
Elmo, Jr.‘s untimely death at the hands of a drunk driver disrupted the already troubled household even further. Distraught over his loss, Elmo sought to turn Jerry Lee into a substitute for his dead son. After the funeral, ignoring Mamie’s shrill protests, Elmo took a pair of pinking shears to Jerry Lee’s locks. Elmo’s skills as a barber were somewhat impaired due to his consumption of moonshine, and he accidentally severed Jerry Lee’s right ear. When Jerry Lee began to scream, Elmo slapped the five-year-old boy and threatened him with castration if he continued to “complain” and was ordered to “take it like a man”.
Things proceeded to get worse after that initial attempt at bonding. Elmo was dismayed to discover his surviving son did not share his elder brother’s interests in sports or hunting, preferring to spend his time picking out tunes on the old upright piano in the parlor. One day, in a drunken rage, Elmo slammed the lid of the piano onto his five-year-old son’s hands, breaking most of his fingers. While Jerry Lee eventually recovered, he never played the piano again.
As Elmo’s drinking worsened, so did the family’s economic and social standing. By the time Jerry Lee was ten, the family had come close to hitting rock bottom, even by Ferriday’s standards. Elmo worked occasionally in the Louisiana oil fields, drinking what little he made, while Mamie took in laundry.
Since he was often called upon to help supplement the family’s income by working in the fields, Jerry Lee’s education was equally sporadic. Then, in 1947, the second traumatic formative episode in his young life occurred.
There is no record of what went on that night. All that is known for sure is that by this time in his life, Elmo was a notoriously mean drunk, quick to take out his anger on those around him. In March Elmo came home from a three-day bender, out of his mind on cheap whisky, and proceeded to brutally rape and beat his wife to death in full view of his son. Elmo was arrested for his wife’s murder and was sentenced to twenty-five years in Angola Prison. Twelve-year-old Jerry Lee was sent to live with relatives, ending up with his mother’s older sister and her husband-both of whom were devout Pentecostals.
Where his original home life had been punctuated by his father’s fits of drunken rage, Jerry Lee’s adopted home was dominated by his aunt’s religious fervor. Originally, she had entertained thoughts of her firstborn son, Jimmy, becoming a man of the cloth, but these hopes were crushed upon his birth, since the boy was born sporting a parasitic twin. And in a community where birth defects were seen as evidence of sin, this proved to be something of stumbling block to becoming a preacher.
The twin, which existed from the waist down, appeared to be female and grew out of Jimmy’s side, forcing him to wear shirts two sizes too large for him. The twin-which was baptized as Loretta-occasionally twitched and kicked its legs and possessed working bowels, making it necessary for it to wear diapers.
Embarrassed by her natural born son, “Aunt Maisie” soon moved her dreams of having a successful preacher in the family from Jimmy to the handsome, golden-haired Jerry Lee. And, to every one’s surprise, the boy took to the pulpit like a duck to water. He enjoyed having the attention of the congregation focused on him, and he especially enjoyed frightening them with graphic descriptions of the torments meted out to unrepentant sinners who fall into Satan’s hands. Later, he would confess to having experienced orgasms during these hell-fire and brimstone sermons.
What no one in Ferriday knew was that the whole time young Jerry Lee was making a name for himself in the Church of Christ pulpit on Sunday mornings, he was secretly indulging in pastimes such as clandestine drinking, arson, and shoplifting, or that he was sowing his wild oats amongst the more comely members of the congregation.
In 1950, a second orphaned cousin came to join the brood-this one from nearby East Texas. Mickey was younger than both Jerry Lee and Jimmy, but this did not keep the three from forming a triumvirate that would last over twenty years and a series of crimes unparalleled in modern history.
In 1951, Jerry Lee was caught in the act with one of the ladies in the choir, effectively ending what could have been a very promising preaching career. However, while he might have lost his congregation, Jerry Lee still had his two younger cousins, both of whom looked up to and deferred to him, letting Jerry Lee set the tone and pace of their activities. And those activities more often than not proved to be cruel and dangerous.
In 1952 Jerry Lee, Jimmy, and Mickey were arrested for setting fire to a neighbor’s garage. Because of their tender years, Jimmy and Mickey were set free. Jerry Lee, however, was sent to reform school for six months. When he was released in 1953, it was to discovered his father was out of prison, paroled for “good behavior”.
Uncertain as to what to do next, Jerry Lee moved in with Elmo. His father was unprepared for the changes that had occurred while he was away in prison. Gone was the frail, golden-haired mama’s boy he used to beat, replaced by a seventeen-year-old who stood six feet tall and was strong as coiled steel wire, with a temper that might, at best, be called hair-trigger. It didn’t take long for the two to begin arguing. Elmo had returned to his hard-drinking habits, this time joined by Jerry Lee. Both men would drink until they blacked out. It was during one of these episodes-or so he claims-that Jerry Lee killed his father with a shotgun blast to the head at point-blank range.
While he claimed that he shot his father in self-defense, all evidence shows that Elmo was lying on his bed at the time Jerry Lee pulled the trigger. Since he was still underage, Jerry Lee was not tried as an adult. He spent the next three years in a juvenile detention center, where he spent most of his time with other hardened delinquents. Released in 1957, Jerry Lee returned once more to Ferriday. There he hooked up with his younger cousins, both of whom had been busy during his absence, adding various petty crimes to their records.
