Twisted (51 page)

“I reckon I’m gonna see about gettin’ us some lunch, Jeffy. Anythin’ you want?”

“No, thanks.” He shook his head and headed into the house.

I
HADN
’
T
spoken to anyone about what had happened while I was with AJ in his old house. I had given a description of everything to the sheriff, but didn’t go into detail. I had no desire to relive the experience. The horrible thing was that I relived it every night. Since I’d gotten home from the hospital, not a single night had passed that I hadn’t woken up in a cold sweat, sometimes screaming, dreaming that I’d dropped the second knife, the one I’d been able to use to saw through the duct tape. The nightmare continued, with vivid scenarios of what would have happened had I not been able to get away.

It was later in the afternoon. José and Maria came into the house and into the living room where I was sitting.

“
Hola
, boss! How are you doing today?”

“Hi, José, Maria.”

“Hello, Jeff. I stopped by to visit José and wanted to make certain I said hello to you also.” I nodded but didn’t respond. Maria continued speaking. “José and I were talking, and we both thought it would be very good to go riding.” José jumped in quickly, before I had a chance to refuse.

“Sí, boss. It would be very nice if you could join us. Charlie needs exercise. He would really enjoy if you went riding with us.” José knew I really loved the horse.

“Thanks, but not today.”

“Jeff, I am a nurse. I know that it would be very good for you to get out.”

“I just don’t feel like it.”

“Do you want to talk about what happened?” José flashed her a sharp look. She continued, “Jeff, you can’t bottle up what happened inside you. Mike mentioned you have nightmares every night. You have to let the evil that that
cabron
AJ did to you out.”

“Maria, please, I want to forget all about what happened. I got myself into a problem because of stupidity. Even though there’re quite a few guys that twisted maniac slaughtered, for some reason, I’m still alive. After walking into that trap, I’m still alive.”

“Yes, Jeff, you are still alive, and thank God for that. You can’t blame yourself for surviving. If you wouldn’t have walked into that trap, that maniac would still be running around killing. Don’t blame yourself, and please if you won’t talk with us, please find someone to talk to about what happened.”

“Boss, Maria is right. We are both very worried about you. I’ve known you since I was a teenager, Jeff. You are my best friend. It hurts me to see you so broken up and unhappy.”

“Maria, José, I appreciate your carin’ about me. I’ll think on talkin’ with someone, okay?” They both smiled and continued on with small talk.

S
EVERAL
days later, I was back in the porch swing. It was a nice spring day, warm enough out just to have a flannel shirt and T-shirt with no jacket. Jason was walking toward me from the bunkhouse. He was dressed in a Western shirt, jeans, boots, and an old Stetson, which I assumed must have once belonged to Smitty. He’d turned into a good ranch hand over the last few months. He had worked his tail off over calving season, and had earned the respect of José and Smitty. He practically bounced up the path to the ranch house since Mike had told him that we’d hire Tim as a hand in June.

“Hey, Jeff, good morning.”

“Hi, Jason.” He didn’t wait for an invitation but plopped down next to me in the swing.

“How are you doing today?”

“Okay.”

He gave me a long look. “Jeff, you’re not okay. You don’t want to do anything anymore, you don’t talk, and you just sit around with a vacant look on your face. You really need to talk with someone about what happened.”

“Jason, it’s none of your business. I don’t want to talk about what happened. I want to forget. It’s in the past.” I had raised my voice. It seemed lately, any little thing irritated me.

“I’m going to say what I’ve got to say. You can tell me to go to hell, but I want you to listen to me. When I got here, you gave me a job. You really made sure I was off the streets. Jeff, believe it or not, I know what you’re going through. Don’t you think that, when I was living on the streets, I was bashed numerous times? I ended up in the hospital. I’ve been raped. I know what it’s like to be totally in someone else’s control, to have your life depend on their insane whims. Jeff, I know what it’s like to blame yourself, to think ‘I should be dead because I put myself in this situation.’ You’re having nightmares, right?”

“Did Mike say that to you?”

“No, he didn’t. I used to have nightmares almost every night. Once I woke up Bert, and he told Sandy. Sandy mentioned it to Al, and he started talking with me. He told me you guys were worried about me after we found the body when we were out skiing. I know what you’re feeling. You have to get that horrible stuff out, face it full on. If you keep shutting it inside, it will eat you alive from the inside.” Jason was looking at me earnestly. He really had changed since he came to the ranch. From the look in his eyes, I realized he did understand what I was going through.

“Next time Al comes to visit, I’ll talk with him.”

Jason’s eyes gleamed. “Great, he’s driving up from San Francisco now.”

“What?”

“I called him a couple of days ago and told him how worried I was about you. Then Mike called him yesterday. He agreed it was really important and headed right up here.” I started to speak, but he cut me off. “Jeff, a year ago, I was a drug addict and a hustler living on the streets. Like I said, I was beat up, raped, and treated like dirt by just about everyone.

“When Bert told you about me, you agreed to open your home and your business to me. Jeff, you and Mike gave me a chance. You showed me I could be normal and well-adjusted. You know, I had the biggest crush on you for the longest while. I thought, and I still do, you’re practically invincible, that like in the rodeo ring, when life throws you, you get up, dust yourself off, and get back in the saddle again. Be that stud I had a crush on. Be the friend I’ve come to depend on. Get your ass back in the saddle.”

I didn’t really know what to say, but even through the self-pity in which I was wallowing, I knew that Jason, from experience, had a point. “I’ll talk with Al when he gets here.” He beamed at me. “And Jason? Thanks.” He leaned over and gave me a big hug.

“No need for thanks, Jeff. That’s what friends are for. You’re one of the first people who really treated me like an equal. You told me I should talk to Tim about my background. You were right. He said that took a lot of guts to tell him. We also talked about sleeping together, but decided to wait a bit and just date, like you and Mike did. I owe you a lot, Jeff. I don’t have that crush on you anymore, but I do really respect and admire you.”

“Thanks, Jason. I reckon we made a real good decision when we hired you.”

“One other thing—you saved my life. After your telling me that I should have more respect for myself than to see my body as just something I could sell or give to get what I wanted, I turned down AJ when he came on to me. I think that saved my life. You got away from him for a reason. It’s now up to you to figure out that reason.” After a few minutes, he headed back to the bunkhouse. It was really nice to see some understanding in his eyes, not the pity or false cheeriness I saw in others.

Just then Mike walked out onto the porch and sat down next to me on the swing. “Hey, Jeffy, mind if I join ya?”

“Go right ahead. So I hear your dad is comin’ up to talk to me?”

He looked at me as if he were weighing his words carefully. “Yeah, I talked to him yesterday morning, and then he left San Francisco yesterday afternoon. Remember how he told us he became a counselor for PFLAG? You gotta talk with someone, Jeffy. I can see this just eatin’ you up. I’m really worried about you.” He was a little hesitant, and thinking on it, I really couldn’t blame him. I’d developed a habit of being really crabby and grouchy lately.

“I’ll talk to him, Mike. Thanks for askin’ him up here.”

“You’re not pissed at me, are ya?” The look in his eyes was painful, almost like he’d break if I said yes.

“No, I’m not.” I put my arm around his shoulders and pulled him close. “Buddy, I’m worried about me too. I just can’t seem to deal with this. I keep wonderin’, after all those other guys died, how come I’m still alive? If it wasn’t for you, I don’t know how I would have been able to have gotten this far. I’ve never had trouble like this before, dealin’ with anythin’. My dad passin’ away, the rustlin’s, bein’ held at gunpoint by Wayne, I seemed to deal with those things fine, but I just can’t get rid of this.”

“Well, Jeffy, before this you ain’t never been kidnapped by a twisted psycho who kept you helpless and who psychologically assaulted you for a couple of days. What he did to you was torture, plain and simple. You’re in the same shape as some of the survivors of genocide or wars.”

“I don’t know if it’s like that, Mike.”

“It is. You’re goin’ through a major trauma. You need help to deal with it. You got so many people who love you and want to help you—just let us.”

“I’m gonna, buddy. I reckon they threw away the mold when they made you.”

“Jeffy, I’m always gonna be there for ya. I love you more than I can say. I just want you back to normal so we can get on with life.” I hugged him against me.

Later that afternoon, Mike brought the mail in. There was a card for me. I decided to open it and read it there rather than havin’ Mike stand over me until I did, or open it himself and read it to me. The card took me by surprise. I read it slowly.

“Hi, Jeff. I don’t know if you remember me, my name’s Farley. We played snowshoe softball last winter.

Actually, Jeff, for the first time in quite a while, it’s going well, and I have you to thank for that. Even though I’d been a total asshole at the softball game, you were decent enough to invite me out for a drink with you guys afterward. I had some time to think on the drive back. Some stuff had happened in my life which really made me angry. You were nice enough to me, and I looked at myself from the outside. I didn’t like what I saw. Anyway, I got some counseling and some anger management classes, and things are actually going well. I heard about your experience with that murderer and just wanted to let you know I was thinking of you and what a difference you’ve made for me. I’ll always appreciate what you did, and I wanted you to know that. I hope you are doing well. Please take good care.”

The card had been signed, “Your Friend, Farley.” It made me feel a little better that I’d been able to help someone.

T
HE
next day Al and I were in the office off to the side of the living room. He’d gotten in last night and was staying with me and Mike. It was interesting to see how he and Mike were talking and actually seemed like they were getting close. It had been a good morning. Mary Grace had come by to bring me some little anti-nightmare pillow which she’d made. I had always joked with Mary Grace about being our town witch, and other folks might make fun of her, but I’d seen too many things happen that she’d predicted, or that happened after she’d cast one of her spells. She’d also given me a blue lace agate and asked me to carry it with me. She said it would help with depression. It was in my pocket now.

“So, Jeff, from what you’ve told me, you feel almost guilty that you survived, and the other victims didn’t.”

“I dunno if it’s exactly guilt, Al. I just keep obsessin’ over, why am I alive? I put myself into that situation with pure stupidity, and I survived. Folks like the policeman in California didn’t.”

“By your definition, the policeman put himself into the same situation, just like you did. Last call he made from his patrol car was about a stranded motorist.”

“Yeah, but I knew the Cutter was after me.”

“And you thought the Cutter was in custody, didn’t you?” I didn’t even answer. He continued speaking. “Jeff, I’m assuming that, as well as the physical abuse you took, he tortured you psychologically. Is that true?”

“Yeah, he did his best to, in his words, ‘break me’.”

“He didn’t though.”

“No, I don’t really remember, but when Mike found me on the way down to the road, after he had tied up AJ, he told me my last words before passin’ out were, ‘Here, kill the fuckin’ bastard’, then I gave him a hatchet.”

“Jeff, let me ask you, since he was ‘trying to break you’, were you defiant to him?”

“Yeah. It was obvious he got off on fear, and I wasn’t gonna give him that pleasure. I found if I started to think about what could happen, I’d start to panic and couldn’t think straight. I wanted to get outta there, so I had to think rationally, not freak out.”

“Right there is one reason you survived. In a situation like what you went through, people often think, ‘This can’t be happening,’ or ‘Why is this happening to me?’ It keeps them from acting to escape. You were able to avoid that and focus on survival. That’s why you got out of there.”

“Yeah, but it doesn’t change the fact I put myself in that situation.”

“Knowing what you know now, if Mike’s truck broke down, would you go to help him?”

“Of course.”

“What about Sandy?”

“Yes.”

“Okay, how about Jason’s friend Tim?”

“Yeah, I would.”

“You thought AJ was a friend. You went to help a friend. There’s nothing wrong with that. You didn’t put yourself into that situation. He took advantage of it.” I didn’t say anything, so Al kept speaking. “Was there any one thing that he did to you that really sticks out in your mind?”

“Several, actually. Do I have to talk about this?”

“Jeff, I think it would be healthy for you to verbalize some of your emotions, rather than bottling them up.”

I thought for a few minutes. The memory brought horror, and with the horror, anger. I raised my voice as I finally answered. “The twisted bastard told me he was gonna cut my dick off, an inch a day, and cauterize each cut with a blowtorch. When he’d gotten the whole thing, he was gonna cut off my balls.”