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| Excerpt from A PROMISE OF REVENGE (The Death of Javier) |
by Terri Kay. CHAPTER 1 ON TUESDAY, JUNE 1, 1954, the sun rose early, but he did not. The bright yellow light streamed through the six-pane window and fell on his face. Still sound asleep in his apartment at Briggandale University, the large college in Briggandale, Indiana, medical student Brian Tanner had stayed out way too late the night before. The 6 A.M. alarm he had set didn’t even make him stir, for he slept right through it. But a single loud ring of the black telephone on the red metal stand outside his bedroom door sent him jumping to his feet. Fully awake now at 9 A.M., Brian was very, very late. Rushing into the black-and-white tiled bathroom, he moved quickly, preparing for his day. While whipping the soap in the cup with his shaving brush, he chastised himself for his actions the night before. “Ugh! You look terrible!” He’d finally looked at himself in the mirror. The dark circles under his eyes and his dull skin confirmed what Brian already knew, but had refused to accept. He couldn’t continue to juggle two intense lovers and medical school. One of them would have to go--and dropping out of medical school was out of the question. Short, medium brown stubble from last night’s beard disappeared quickly as Brian ran the silver straight razor across his face. “Yeowh!” he yelped, suddenly dropping the razor. In the small, cloudy mirror, he peered at the tiny drop of blood oozing from the nick. “That’s it! Today’s the day--I’ve got to stop this. I can’t go on with both of them any longer.” After putting white tissue paper on the nick, he picked up the razor again off the white porcelain sink. His normally smooth routine was interrupted again with another nick and more drops of blood. Shaving usually went well unless he had something on his mind. This morning, he had too much on his mind and his face showed the messy results. “Well, from the looks of this, I’d better stop thinking about them before I cut my throat,” he said aloud. Brian tried focusing on his face but it was no use. Three nicks later, he left the bathroom hurriedly, bumping into Fred on the way out. Fred Butler, his roommate, had come to Briggandale University from England. “Say Brian, looks like you’re growing a bumper crop of tissue paper there! You were trying to shave, weren’t you? How will all those pretty girls of yours recognize your new face?” He stepped next to the wall to let Brian pass by. “Shut up Fred!” Brian insisted, not caring much for Fred’s attempt at humor this morning. Usually, Fred was a good roommate. But today, he was being a jerk. “You know, you only have to dump one of them, old buddy, not scare them both off!” Fred laughed. “But seriously,” he paused, “I heard you talking to yourself in there. It shouldn’t be too hard to choose.” With reddish-brown hair that stuck up in little tufts like feathers on the sides of his round head, a round face, pouting pink lips and black-rimmed glasses, Fred looked like a wise old owl. He always gave advice, most of it very good. Brian just didn’t want to hear it today. “Shut up, Fred!” Brian repeated as he closed his bedroom door to shut Fred out and to be alone with his thoughts again. With a meeting scheduled for that morning with a group of students, followed by lunch with one of the faculty members, Brian couldn’t have any prolonged discussions with Fred. But Fred followed Brian down the hall and continued talking. “Dyna called last night. I told her you were studying late. I didn’t tell her the subject was Sierra Gleason. You owe me, old buddy.” Fred sauntered back up the hallway to the bathroom. As he sorted through the socks in the top drawer of his dresser, Brian found a matching pair. Closing the drawer, he looked up and saw his reflection in the wide mirror atop the dresser. The pieces of tissue paper were still there, stuck to his face. As he pulled the pieces off, Brian thought about Fred’s comments. Leave it to Fred to know what I was thinking, Brian thought. Why was it so obvious to Fred and not to these women? They’ve got to know about each other by now. I love them both, but I can’t go on much longer with both of them. Brian slipped on the pair of socks and walked the few short feet to his closet. Pushing though the shirts hanging there, Brian picked one and held it next to the paisley tie on the oak dresser. The fine, handmade silk shirt Sierra gave him last night matched perfectly with the tie Dyna gave him only two days ago. How strange, Brian thought, that these two items match so well when the women who gave them to me aren’t alike at all! Brian tied his tie and searched the top of his dresser for a tie tack. The silver one would do, it went well with his pale blue trousers. Silver cuff links would complete the look as he finished dressing. After he grabbed his blazer, Brian Tanner left the apartment still thinking about the two women. Dyna Palpietro was so sweet and kind. She was warm, with the darkest chocolate-brown eyes he had ever seen. She always smelled sweet, like the spicy smell of the hot cinnamon apple pies Mama used to make. When he closed his eyes, Brian could almost smell Dyna and see those eyes. But almost as soon as she was fixed as an image in his mind, Sierra’s face would appear. Brian smiled and got warm all over. Sierra Gleason was sizzling hot. His evenings with her had been fantastic. No, unforgettable. With platinum blond hair and blue eyes, she was gorgeous. She could make any man think at least twice before leaving her warm, soft, golden-tanned arms. Sierra was, well, “experienced,” as Mama used to say. Brian laughed. “Mama,” he said to himself, “That’s the kind of experience I like!” ACROSS TOWN, in the apartment next to Sierra Gleason’s, Merritt Hughes put his latest home movie in the thin cardboard box that would hold it, then wrote the date on the piece of tape that would act as the label. He wouldn’t put this movie with the rest of his collection, in case one of his friends came across it by accident. This one would join a special group in the bottom of his footlocker, a collection he’d kept secret from everyone. With his treasure securely hidden, he walked to the end of the hallway. After listening for several moments, Merritt pulled off the vent cover, then pulled the fake panel from inside the vent that separated his apartment from hers. He was certain that she was gone, but had an overwhelming desire to make sure. The vent was his way of keeping in touch with Sierra, even if she wanted nothing to do with him. When she moved into the apartment next to his last December, Merritt made up his mind to seduce her. After all, he wasn’t bad looking and he was a medical student with a bright future ahead of him. But since the first time he knocked on her door, she seemed aloof, almost afraid of him. He had tried everything that he could think of to get her to spend a little time with him, maybe go out for some coffee or on a date. But nothing had worked. Sierra was different. She was the first girl who hadn’t fallen for one of his lines and didn’t seem impressed by him. Her lack of response intrigued him initially, but in time, he grew obsessed with her in a way that even he couldn’t explain. Within a month after her arrival, frustrated by her indifference, he figured out how he could get a little closer to her without her knowing it. One evening, when he was certain that she was gone, Merritt removed the grate off the cold air return in the hallway of his apartment. He’d lived in the apartment long enough to learn that the vent duct that ran between the two units could be cut, allowing him to see into her unit. Earlier, he had created a replacement panel, with a peephole that could be opened easily from his side. And if he felt like it, he could take the whole panel off. With the new panel in place, he could spy on her whenever he pleased. And if anyone ever discovered his handiwork, he would deny all knowledge of it. “DYNA PALPIETRO TANNER. Dyna Marie Palpietro Tanner. Dyna M. Palpietro Tanner.” She flipped on the makeup light over the white porcelain sink--it flooded the room with more light--and peered deeply into the brown, nearly black eyes of the young, pretty, dark-haired lady looking back at her. With three tiny moles on her right temple and long black eyelashes, Dyna Palpietro, at eighteen, almost nineteen, looked just like her mother did in the old picture hanging in the dining room of their apartment. Each time she said her dream name, her own plus the last name of her lover, Brian Tanner, Dyna paused. She smiled while she listened to the sounds as they resonated in the white-tiled walls of the tiny bathroom. Here, in her bright white meditation place, she took special pleasure in letting each syllable roll from her ruby lips. It was four thirty in the morning in the Palpietro apartment in Briggandale. Only she was awake and she relished these few moments of privacy. Soon, she thought. Brian is going to propose to me soon, I just know it! I know what he feels for me. And then I’ll tell him. I want him to ask me to marry him just because he wants to, not because he feels he has to. Dyna let the bubbling warm water splash over her small hands into the sink until the worn basin was nearly full. Through the water, she studied the size and texture of her slightly brown hands, especially the ring finger of her left hand. She could almost see her finger with a ring, maybe even a diamond ring, from Brian. With the warm water relaxing her, Dyna mentally drifted away from the small, cramped, three-bedroom apartment she shared with her family. The apartment wasn’t very large, but that didn’t matter. The Palpietros didn’t own much furniture. She could almost hear her own words spoken the day before to her friend, Nancy. “Of course I want to marry Brian. A couple of days ago, Brian talked to me about an important decision he had to make. But I want him to ask Papa first. If only he would ask soon! I love him so much! I know he loves me, but I really need him to say those words, especially to Papa. We’ve been going out for months now and it seems about the right time. When? Well, I can’t say.” Months earlier, she had met him at the university’s bookstore, where she worked full-time. He asked her for some help and as she turned to look at him, she dropped several heavy books on his feet. He should have screamed, but didn’t. Both fumbled to pick up the books and as her eyes met his, she knew he could be the one for her. Eight months later, she was deeply in love with him and was three months pregnant. A jiggle at the door handle followed by pounding at the door startled her. “Dy! Hurry up! I gotta go!” Raphael broke into Dyna’s romantic daydreaming as only a seven-year-old with a full bladder pounding on a cheap door could. Sighing, Dyna let the now cold water out of the sink. She stepped out into the dimly lit hallway as Raphael pushed past her into the bathroom. From the end of the hall, Dyna could hear the muffled bass voice of Papa, and Mama’s softer, higher tones in response. Daylight was breaking and another June day in the Palpietro household had begun. CHAPTER 2 JUNE 1953 AS A CHUNKY, pasty brunette with furry eyebrows named Boom-Boom Betty, she wasn’t much of a success as a stripper at Jack’s club. But the owner, a greasy scumbag named Jack, used her for other purposes, including a few of his special parties. That’s how she made extra money, selling drugs and herself, along with setting up an occasional customer for Jack to rob. A year earlier, she had been Elizabeth Antoinette Belillaber, a nice girl from a poor neighborhood in Octuary, Illinois. Over the protests of most of the people that she knew, she enrolled in Briggandale University. As they predicted, she dropped out of college after her first semester. Going back to Octuary so soon after dropping out was out of the question for Elizabeth. Desperate after being unable to support herself in any other way, she became a stripper at a sleazy club in Enid, Indiana, only ten miles away from the school. She saw Brian Tanner for the first time at Jack’s club in early June 1953. There, with a group of drunk guys from the college, he leered at her, threw a dollar at her and promptly forgot her. But she didn’t forget him. With the other girls from the club, Elizabeth talked about leaving the club and the business. They talked about snaring rich husbands and giving up dancing, drugs and prostitution. But with the crowd that frequented Jack’s club, they had little hope of finding husbands or anything else worthwhile there. That is, until the club was shut down after a big drug and prostitution bust in June 1953. Six of the girls, Louie, the bouncer, and Jack were looking at new careers behind jail bars, chosen for them courtesy of the Indiana criminal justice system. Of all his girls, Jack figured Elizabeth was the one behind his troubles. He guessed she set him up and conveniently disappeared to avoid arrest. He was right. Only a week before the bust, as Elizabeth got ready for one of Jack’s private parties, Jack promised to step in if the men became too unruly. Two hours later, while Elizabeth begged for help as the men abused her, Jack, who could see everything going on from the peephole in the back of the room, just watched. And one creep even made home movies. Sending Jack on an extended vacation to jail was the least Elizabeth felt she could do for him. Going home to Octuary wouldn’t be fun, but Elizabeth wasn’t going to stick around for the roundup at Jack’s club in Enid. JUST AN HOUR after arriving in Octuary, while carrying a shopping basket at the grocery store, Elizabeth saw Michelle, one of her friends from high school. Elizabeth tried crouching near a stack of cans but couldn’t hide quickly enough. When Michelle spotted her, she bellowed out a greeting that could be heard two aisles away. Sensing that Michelle really wanted to talk and that escaping from Michelle wouldn’t be easy, Elizabeth put the basket on the floor. In her typical nonstop fashion, Michelle shared the details of her good fortune until Elizabeth felt like puking. “I’m Michelle Henderson now. Do you remember William Henderson from the neighborhood? He graduated a few years before we did. I married him. I’ve got two children now, they’re really cute and really smart, like my Bill. I have a house over on Scott Street, you know, the huge yellow ranch Mrs. Clarence used to own. I just redecorated it. Well, I just had to after our month-long trip to Europe. My Bill is working at Uptright Engineering, he’s an engineer, you know.” As Michelle went on and on, Elizabeth felt embarrassed and ashamed. What could she say about her own life that was positive? That she dropped out of college and that she was a hooker? Or that she lived in an apartment the size of a shoe box that smelled like cat pee? Boy, Michelle would really be impressed with this news! Elizabeth smirked facetiously. But she stopped smirking as she realized what was about to occur. Eventually, Michelle would stop bragging and would ask for information about her. Elizabeth could either lie or leave, because she knew she didn’t have the courage to tell the truth. She decided quickly. In the middle of Michelle’s droning description of her home, Elizabeth gasped, “Look at the time!” She gave an award winning performance now. “I’ve got to go, Michelle. My husband is waiting outside in our new sports car. I’ll stop by sometime during my visit and tell you about our New York penthouse and our villa in Italy. Ciao, baby!” She grabbed Michelle in a big bear hug, released her, turned and dashed toward the door of the store. When Elizabeth looked back, she saw her food basket in the middle of the aisle, with the astonished Michelle still looking on. Someone else would have to put the groceries back. For Elizabeth, the items in the basket were not worth losing the shred of self- esteem that she still clung to. The bus waiting at the corner near the store would take her right to the downtown bus station. From there, she would go back to Indiana. BACK IN ENID, Elizabeth found that Jack was still in jail and decided it was a good time to disappear. That same night, she packed her belongings and with the money she had saved as a working girl, Elizabeth Belillaber boarded a bus headed for Florida. No one would miss her in Illinois, nor would anyone know about her miserable life in Enid. The ride would be long, but she had plenty to think about. THREE HOURS LATER, Elizabeth bumped along in row seven in the right-hand window seat of a southbound bus. All of her worldly possessions were in a cheap cardboard suitcase stored below her and in her footlocker in the luggage compartment of the bus. With tears flowing down her face as looked out of the window, Elizabeth looked back carefully at her life. She had failed at college, and she couldn’t even support herself in a respectable position. She couldn’t go back to Octuary, she had too many bad memories there. Going back to Enid was out of the question. Jack would get out of jail sooner or later and would certainly look for her. At times, she wanted to stop the ride, stop the bumping and get to a stable place. Her life was a mess. The success she thought she would have eluded her. She had gone to college but she never expected that it would be so expensive or that life would be so hard. So many people from her hometown expected her to fail, and now she had. At the stops along the route, the brakes of the bus whined and screeched as if they would give out. Elizabeth was tired of the movement, but she was more tired of the failures in her young life. On that bus ride in June 1953, she decided to end it all. Elizabeth Antoinette Belillaber would have to die. Comments or Questions? Don't wait; contact me now!
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©2004-2005 Terri Kay. All rights reserved. Terri Kay, PO Box 2861, Elkhart, IN 46515 main@terrikay.com
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