The Emancipation of Collette Martin - Part 4

“Hey, can you give me a hand?” Collette struggles while pulling the body of an obese man from the driver’s seat of a dark green crew cab truck. Ben stands at the edge of the road nervously looking back and forth watching for other drivers. He slowly turns and walks over to the truck. He grabs the silk pantyhose that is wrapped around the man’s neck and tugs with all his strength. The body doesn’t budge. Frustrated, he places his hands around the man’s head and begins to pull. Collette grabs the now bluish-green arm of the dead man and leans back while pulling. A sudden loud pop and the head detaching from the spine sends Ben flying back and onto his bottom. Collette bends down slightly and looks in the cab, “There I see the problem. His large belly is getting caught on the steering wheel.” Ben struggles to his feet and looks back at the red town car they left together in from the diner. The front tire shredded from running over an unfortunate armadillo. Ben turns his attention back to the dead fat man and sees Collette pulling a large knife from her purse. She places the blade on the man’s large belly and gives a wink at Ben.

Ben turns from the gratuitous gory sight and walks over to the bed of the truck. He opens the tailgate and plops on the bed. He kicks his feet back and forth in the air like a bored child at church, “So, where are you from Collette?” He hears a loud sigh coming from the driver’s side and the squishing of flesh hitting the pavement. “I’m from Cincinnati, but I grew up in a small town 40 minutes north of there.” Ben starts to tap on his thighs playfully, “What made you decide to uhm…well…you know.” He hears the clanging of the knife being dropped onto the pavement. Loud taps of heels on the road follow and finally, Collette comes into view. Covered in blood, she starts to unbutton her blouse. Ben looks away quickly which makes Collette cackle. “Haven’t you seen a pair of tits before?” Ben scoffs and continues to look away. “To answer your question, I don’t know what made me decide to kill people.” Collette groans as she removes her stained pants, “I have always had the urge to. Ever since I can remember.” Ben turns and looks at her, his face instantly turning bright red from embarrassment. “Oh lord, will you just get me a clean blouse and pants from my bag.” Ben quickly races towards the town car as Collette stares at her blood-soaked blouse.

Seven Mile, Ohio 1943

A 10-year-old Collette Baker sits on the rickety wooden front porch steps of the small family home she shares with her mother Catherine, older brother Billy, and her baby sister Callie. Her father is off somewhere in the Pacific fighting the Japanese like all good American men were called to do. She holds a small teddy bear between her knobby knees as she shoves large nails into its worn-out face. The sound of muffled laughter and moaning seeps from the opened windows of the tiny two-bedroom house. Collette hates it when the neighbor, Mr. Beckett, comes to visit her mother. When he comes by, which is almost every day, she and her brother are forced to play outside for hours, rain, or shine. Her brother doesn’t seem to mind, but for Collette, she despises being forced outside. During this particular exile, she is missing her favorite radio broadcast, Attack of the Killer Maidens from Venus.

Collette continues to stab at the face of her Teddy when the front door creaks open. The sound of heavy footsteps THUD behind her and then abruptly stop. Without turning her head, she looks over and notices a large obese man standing next to her. She slowly stops stabbing the poor bear and looks up at the man. Sweat pours down his cherry red face like a fountain. He grabs a yellow-stained handkerchief from his shirt pocket and wipes his thick bushy eyebrows. He wrings the sweat from the handkerchief and Collette watches as the greasy perspiration falls to the wooden porch. He shoves the handkerchief back in his shirt pocket and laughs. “You’re a weird little fucker, aren’t cha?” Collette stays silent and stares back at the man. The man wipes his thick chubby fingers across his moist lips as gives a small chuckle. He slowly starts to reach for one of Collette’s pigtails when a rock smacks him right in the forehead.

“Mr. Beckett, I think it’s time for you to leave.” Billy Baker, older than Collette by two years, stands in the dirt driveway ready to pitch another rock at Mr. Beckett’s large head. Mr. Beckett groans as he rubs his forehead. He glares menacingly at Billy for a few seconds then proceeds to waddle down the three steps and out towards his old beat-up Plymouth Model 30-U. He stops next to Billy and places his face in the young man’s, “If I catch you out alone, you’re good as dead you little shit.” Billy comes to the porch and sits next to Collette. They both watch as Mr. Beckett floors the rust bucket in reverse then speeds out onto the gravel road. “Why was you gone so long? I hate when you leave me here alone.” Billy wraps his arm around Collette and places his head against hers, “Sorry, Col. I’m afraid if I stay I’ll end up killing the fat bastard.”

The screen door opens, and a frail twiggy looking woman slides out onto the porch. Catherine Baker walks over and kisses both of her children on the tops of their heads. In better times she is a faithful wife and mother to her husband Richard and her three children. The war came and changed that. Now, she finds herself a lonely woman who is embarrassed by her desperate choices in companionship and guilty for not properly caring for her children. “Billy, what have I told you about that foul language that has been spewing from your mouth?” Billy stands quickly to his feet and faces his mother, “Well, I’m learning it from you and your friend Mr. Beckett. You both sure like to scream it loudly when you guys are in your bedroom.”

Without hesitation, Catherine backhands her son across the face. The force of the hit knocks him off balance and he falls to the ground. Collette jumps down from the porch and lays across her brother to protect him. Catherine stomps over to them both and grabs Collette by the shoulder and starts to pull her off of Billy. Catherine raises her hand and smacks Collette hard against the face. Collette hardly flinches from the impact and stares up into her mother’s eyes. Catherine raises her hand again and deals another blow across Collette’s small face. Billy starts to scream for his mother to stop. A small stream of blood drips down from Collette’s nose. Her mother lets out a wail and shakes her daughter violently.

The sudden loud cries of Catherine’s infant daughter from inside the house freezes her into place. She let’s go of Collette and starts to weep. She stands up and quickly enters the house. Collette lays against the dirt unblinking as Billy places his head against hers and cries. Billy grabs Collette from under her arms, lifting her and cradles her into his chest. “I promise Col when dad comes home, he will take us away and we will never have to see her again.” Collette lays against her brother’s chest staring down at her worn-out teddy bear. Her pupils dilated and jet black.

Collette stares out of the passenger side window of the dark green truck. Christian music softly plays from the radio speakers. Ben hums loudly to the tune, his hands tapping against the steering wheel in sync to the beat. Collette looks over at Ben and clears her throat. Ben cranes his head and looks over at her laughing nervously, “What? Aren’t you a believer?” Collette rolls her eyes and leans back against the seat. She places her hands down and feels something gooey. She lifts her hand and a large wad of fat, coagulated blood, and tissue cover her fingers. “I thought you got all of fatty Bob out of the truck.” Ben grits his teeth and squeezes the steering wheel tightly, “Well, maybe if you decided not to perform surgery on him in the god damned truck.” Collette scoffs loudly and crosses her arms. “How long until we make it to the California border?” Ben sighs and scratches his head, “Probably another two hours.” Collette nods her head and looks over at his dirty face, “We should probably find a hotel as soon as we cross over. You’re starting to get ripe.” Ben looks over at Collette and a wide grin spreads across her face. “Fuck you.” They both start laughing at Ben’s blunt insult. “Hey, when you asked me if I was a believer. I used to be.” Ben stops laughing and looks over at Collette. Tears start to well up in her eyes. She turns and starts to stare out into the cold and dark vast void of the desert.

Seven Mile, Ohio 1943

Colette stands at the end of her driveway staring down at her feet. She clenches a small pocketknife in her left hand. The unmistakable backfiring of Mr. Beckett’s ancient car snaps her out of her trance and she turns to watch him pull in and park off towards the right. She watches as he opens the door and struggles to slide out of the driver’s seat. He notices her staring at him and he laughs as he slams the door shut. “What the hell are you staring at you little freak?” She keeps staring, eyes locked on to him. He lets out a small grunt and waddles quickly towards her. “I said what the fuck are you looking at you creepy little shit.” He abruptly stops as he notices the large blood stains covering the front of Collette’s lavender dress. He watches as blood drips down her arms and in between her fingers. He takes a small sidestep to the right of her and squints to see what lays in the dirt behind her. He jumps back at the sight of a completely dissected cat, it’s insides neatly placed around the body. He walks backwards toward the front door, keeping Collette in his view. He trips on the stairs and catches himself on the railing, then quickly turns and bolts through the front door.

He walks through the living room and into the small kitchen area. Billy is sitting at the kitchen table happily reading a letter he just received that morning from his father. Catherine is sitting quietly across from Billy nervously chewing on her fingernails. Baby Callie is sitting on the floor playing with some of Billy’s army men figures. “Catherine, you need to do something with that demon of a daughter. She’s outside slicing and dicing up cats.” Catherine sighs, “Jesus not again. Billy will you go outside and help her clean up that mess. Tell her she’s in real big trouble.” Billy slowly folds the letter and places it in his jeans pocket. He stands to his feet and pushes in the chair. “I’m tellin’ ya you need to take her to St. Mary’s and have her committed. She’s fucked up in the head that one.” Billy slams his palm hard against the tabletop creating a loud BANG. “There’s nothing wrong with her, she’s just having a hard time with dad being away.” Mr. Beckett doubles over with laughter. “Catherine, take him to while you're at it. He’s got some screws loose up in his noggin too.” Billy slams his palm against the table again, “Don’t laugh at me.” Mr. Beckett continues to laugh and shoves Billy against the table. Billy snarls and kicks Mr. Beckett in between his legs. Mr. Beckett folds over in pain but manages to grab Billy by the shirt collar.

Collette, now crouched down burying the cat in a shallow grave, is startled by loud screaming and the breaking of glass from inside the house. She stands and runs towards the front porch. She dashes up the stairs and stops just at the front door. She slowly reaches her hand up and places it on the doorknob. She turns the knob and pushes open the door. The door easily swings open, the screams and breaking of objects echos louder now in her ears. She takes small steps inside and shuts the door quietly. The screaming and scuffling have now ceased, now soft sobs trail from the kitchen and into the living room. She creeps through the living room, the small pocketknife still clenched in her hand. She reaches the entrance and leans inside. She sees her brother lying in a heap on the floor. His face is almost unrecognizable. Blood covers his once-white T-shirt and blue jeans. Mr. Beckett is at the sink washing the boy’s blood from his hands. He turns and looks at Collette. His eyes widen when he notices that she is still holding the knife. Catherine dashes from the corner of the room and grabs Collette. She rips the knife from her hand and backs away slowly. “Colette, it was an accident. Your brother hit Mr. Bennett and…and Mr. Bennett defended himself.” Collette coldly stares at both Mr. Bennett and her mother who now stands next to him. She knows now what she needs to do.

“Hey wake up! We crossed the border about an hour ago. I think we should call it a night.” Collette wipes the sleep from her eyes and notices a neon sign off to the right. Ben shuts off the ignition and starts to exit the vehicle, “You going to stay in here or what?” Collette grumbles as she exits the passenger side and walks to the bed of the truck. She reaches over the side and grabs her bags and follows Ben towards the motel office. A bell chimes as they both enter the office.

An elderly man, small in stature, sits behind the desk reading an out of date newspaper. Ben drops his bags and leans against the counter, “Hey, pops. My wife and I are going to need a room for the night.” Collette rolls her eyes and lightly jabs Ben in the ribs. The old man places his paper neatly on the counter and grabs his receipt book. “You ain’t some of them hippies are ya?” Ben and Collette look at each other in confusion. Collette runs her fingers through her disheveled hair, “Uh, no sir. We are most certainly not any of those hippies.” The old man nods and turns to grab a room key hanging from one of the hooks on the wall. “Good. A bunch of ‘em came round her last week. They got several rooms and trashed them up good. Said they was en route to some ranch near LA. Said they were meeting some guy by the name of Manson.” Collette and Ben nod their heads and slowly take the room key from the old man. They pick up their bags and turn for the door when the old man whistles for them to stop. “You better not be doing anything weird up in here. If I hear any strange noises from your room, I’m calling the police. You hear?” Collette and Ben smile and nod to the old man. As they turn to continue out the door they give each other a confused giggle.

Seven Mile, Ohio 1943

It’s half-past ten and Collette is sneaking into her mother’s room, tiptoeing around the empty bottles of alcohol strewn across the floor and to her mother’s dresser. She quietly opens the drawer and pulls out a couple of pairs of silk pantyhose. She wads them up and shoves them into her tan jacket pocket. She closes the drawer and creeps back towards the exit. Her mother, splayed out across the bed, snores loudly enough to wake the dead. Collette exits her mother’s bedroom and quickly walks down the hall and through the living room. She stops at the couch where her brother is laying. He lies asleep wheezing loudly. His face is bandaged up from the beating he took two days prior. The doctor at Grace Point hospital said he was lucky he didn’t sustain any more trauma to the head. His nose and both orbital sockets were shattered. Of course, Collette’s mother told the doctor Billy fell off his bike while racing with some other boys. Collette sighs and walks over towards the front door and exits.

She walks down a dark and deserted Main Street. She spots the only bar in this small town, The Watering Hole. She looks around for Mr. Beckett’s beat-up vehicle. She spots it parked across the street from the bar. She jogs towards it and flings the back door open and hops inside. She shuts the door softly and lays curled in a tight ball on the floor. She waits for about an hour when she hears the drunken Mr. Bennett yelling outside. From what she hears, he is being thrown out of the bar for being unruly. The shuffling of his feet against the pavement inches closer.

The creaking of the driver’s side door opening alerts her to get ready. The body of the car shakes back and forth as Mr. Bennett slides into the seat. The smell of booze and body odor wafts up into her nostrils and she feels instantly sick to her stomach. She sits up and slowly raises to peek over the driver's seat. A small gust of wind blows against her face from the missing back windshield that was smashed when a rock went crashing in it about a month ago. Billy took the blame for that, but it was Collette who committed the vandalism. She watches as Mr. Bennett struggles to put the keys in the ignition. After several more attempts, he successfully inserts the keys and turns the ignition. The truck rumbles on and the radio starts blasting the tunes of Al Dexter’s and His Troopers Too Late To Worry, Too Blue To Cry. Collette wraps the two twisted together strands of pantyhose around her hands. Mr. Bennett places his hand on the gear shift as Collette swings her arms over the head of Mr. Bennett and wraps the pantyhose around his neck.

She leans back, placing her feet against the back of the seats for leverage, and pulls with all her might. Mr. Bennett squirms and grabs at the hose but is unable to loosen its hold. He flails his arms wildly and knocks the gear shift into drive. He stomps his foot on the accelerator and the car barrels down the empty street swerving from side to side. Collette slides back and forth in the backseat, but still managing her tight grip of the pantyhose. She grits her teeth and closes her eyes. She clenches her fingers tighter around the hose and strains harder. Mr. Bennett’s head is forced back and against the seat. His face is beat red from the lack of oxygen. His eyes watering and bulging from their sockets, he forces them closed and starts to pull his head forward hard. The pantyhose starts to rip as the car continues to sway back and forth through both lanes of the road. He grunts and gives one harder jerk forward and the pantyhose gives way and flings Collette back hard against the back seat.

She slowly raises, steadying herself against the door of the car. Mr. Bennett looks in his rearview mirror and locks eyes with Collette. He gasps for air and starts to growl at her. Collette’s eyes avert away from his reflected gaze and forward to the stopped truck at the intersection. Mr. Bennett sees her terrified look and turns his head back to the front windshield. He stomps on the brake causing Collette to fly forward and into the front passenger seat. The car skids across the pavement and rams into the stopped truck. The Plymouth Model 30-U starts spinning out of control, taking out a stop sign, and finally slamming into the side of the local bank.

Collette slowly opens her eyes. At first, everything is blurry, but things start to come into focus after she rubs her eyes a few times. She looks up to where Mr. Bennett was sitting and sees his body pinned back against his seat. A large pole sticks through the broken front windshield. Her eyes follow the pole and she notices that it is sticking perfectly in the middle of Mr. Bennett’s face. “Bullseye.” She places her hand against the dashboard and hoists herself up. Something metal on the floor just under her shines in the streetlight. She reaches down and picks it up. She raises the object to her face and realizes it’s a pistol. She hears the faint wail of sirens in the distance and crawls out of the busted out window on the passenger side and falls onto the street. She lifts herself quickly and starts to jog back in the direction of her house.

Collette limps down her dirt driveway and up the stairs leading to the front door. She is starting to feel the whiplash from the wreck, and she thinks she may have hurt her ankle as well. She shuffles inside and sees to her relief her brother still sound asleep on the couch. She slowly passes by and makes it to the entrance of the hallway. She leans against the wall for support and makes it to her mother’s room. She turns and stands in the doorway. She sighs and starts limping to the side of her mother’s bed. Her mother, still sounds asleep and snoring loudly, lays on her side facing Collette. Collette stops and stares at her mother. She runs her small hand through her mother’s soft blonde hair. She then raises the pistol and points the barrel at her mother’s right temple.

Ben flops on the bed and starts taking off his boots. Collette walks over to her side of the bed and lays down against the comforter. She closes her eyes and takes a couple of deep breaths. Ben turns and watches her in amusement. Collette opens her eyes and catches Ben staring at her and shoots him a mean look. Embarrassed, he quickly looks away and down towards the floor. “Let me make one thing clear, Mr. Jeffries. I will not be engaging in any coitus with you tonight or any other night.” Ben laughs nervously and starts to fiddle with his dog tags, “No ma’am. I…uh…I am not interested in none of that.” Collette laughs and throws a pillow at his head. Ben lays back against the bed next to Collette. “Do you have any family?” Collette turns and looks at him. Ben continues, “Any brothers or sisters…parents still around?” Collette clears her throat and looks back up towards the ceiling. “Why are you so interested in my former life?” Ben shrugs and sighs, “I don’t know. Just trying to get to know you a little better.” He sits up and stretches. “I have three sisters who are all married to rich ass snotty men and my parents don’t talk to me. There, now it’s your turn.” Collette continues to stare at the ceiling, “I have an older brother named Billy and a younger sister named Callie. I haven’t seen them in 10 years.” Ben nods and slides off the bed and kneels at his duffel bag.

He starts digging inside for some clean clothes. He stands and shakes the clothing playfully, “ My smelly ass is going to take a bath now.” Collette ignores him as he walks towards the bathroom. He trips on her large purse spilling some of the contents out and onto the floor. He bends down and starts to place the items back into her purse when he pauses at the sight of an old worn teddy bear with a nail stuck in its eye. He looks back at Collette, who still stares at the ceiling, and then back to the bear confused. He places the bear back in the purse when he spots an old pistol at the very bottom. He laughs softly and zips the purse closed. He stands and heads for the bathroom. “My dad died in the war. The Second World War.” Ben turns around and his gaze meets Collette’s who is now standing at the foot of the bed unbuttoning her blouse. “My mom died when I was young. Alcoholism.”