The Emancipation of Collette Martin - Part 7

Los Angeles – December 23rd (Night) 1968

“Are you fucking stupid?”

Ben stands behind Collette as she applies makeup in the small motel bathroom, his glaring scrunched up face makes Collette softly chuckle.

“I’m just going to a show with a new friend is all. Why is that so stupid?”

“Well gee Cole, I dunno. Maybe, because you can’t keep your “addiction” in check and we’re still supposed to be lying low.” Ben scoffs and leaves the bathroom. He sighs loudly and flops on Collette’s bed. “We still haven’t decided where to go next. And you still haven’t told me what your next move is? In fact, you haven’t told me much about anything?”

Collette leans out of the bathroom and stares at Ben quizzically while inserting an earring. “What do you mean?”

Ben rolls his eyes. “You know what I mean, what are your plans? You killed your slob of a husband. You killed the banker because he was rude and an asshole. You killed your sleazy next-door neighbor. Are you after anyone in particular? From what I gathered, everyone after was just collateral damage. Do you have an end game, Cole?”

Collette’s head tilts as she ponders the question. She looks at Ben and shrugs playfully. Ben grabs the pillow next to him and smashes it against his face. He screams into the cotton and linen then throws the pillow towards Collette, missing her by a few inches.

“Cole, I can’t do this forever. I came out here for a reason. I came out here for Mark and I…” Ben’s eyes begin to swell up with tears. Collette slowly approaches and sits gingerly at the foot of the bed. She places her hand softly against Ben’s knee.

“Ben…I told you, I’m sorry about Mark. He hurt you and I- “

Ben raises his hand, silencing her. “I’m thinking of going to Mexico.”

Taken aback, Collette snorts and shakes her head. “What are you talking about? Mexico? Why in the world you go to Mexico?”

Ben slowly lifts himself into a sitting position and stares down at the stained carpet. “I can hide away from all of this down there. I can find my peace somewhere down there. I just know it.”

Collette rises to her feet and snatches her purse from the dresser top. “Well, if you want to galivant down to Mexico, be my guest! I won’t hold you back.” She stomps towards the door and swings it open. She takes a step out and pauses. She turns around slowly, her eyes softening with the slightest hint of tears emerging from the corners. “Why do you want to leave me?”

Ben sighs and turns his gaze away from her. Collette gasps down air as a tear rolls down her rosy cheek. She turns and exits the room shutting the door slowly. She leans her back against the faded green door, her left hand clutching her chest. Her body begins to tremble as she attempts to hold back her distress. A taxi pulls up to the motel several doors down to the right. The back passenger door swings open and a visibly drunken businessman stumbles out and falls hard on his backside. He laughs as his escort, a woman in her late teens, stands above him pulling at his meaty arms trying to hoist him to his feet. Collette inhales sharply and wipes the corners of her eyes as she heads for the taxi.

Collette swings open the opposite back passenger door of the taxi and flings herself inside. The large balding cabbie looks up in his rearview mirror and wipes away beading sweat pooling on his forehead. “Ma’am, sorry I ain’t taken no more fares tonight.”

Collette sighs and leans forward, her nose scrunching at the aroma of the cabbie’s stale sweat and ripe body odor. “I really need to get downtown. The Egyptian Theatre. I’ll pay you extra.”

The cabbie jerks around, his large belly skidding against the steering wheel leaving a slimy trail of sweat and other bodily juices against the rubberized grip. “Double fare and a little poke when we get there. What do ya say, doll face?” The cabbie strains his large moist face to look at hers. Collette’s eyes watch a trail of grayish sweat roll down from his temple and across his pockmarked cheek. She leans back softly against the seat and winks at the cabbie. “Sure, why not?”

The cabbie puts the gear in reverse and begins to back out of the motel parking lot narrowly missing the now frustrated escort. The taxi pulls out of the lot and speeds up on the busy street as Collette stares out of the window. Her eyes follow the distant skyline of the city, and she begins to think about her mother.

Seven Mile, Ohio - 1955

Ladies and Gentlemen, and Good Evening to you. This is John Malcolm Derry reporting the news that President Eisenhower is suffering from coronary thrombosis…

“Collette, what have you done!”

“Billy, did you hear? The President had a heart attack. I wonder if it was from his smoking. Harry always smokes a lot. Smoked a lot.”

Billy shivers at the chipper voice of his sister in front of him. He runs his hand over his slick backed black hair and starts to slowly walk towards her. His hands shake as he repeatedly smooths the front of his grey suit jacket. He stops just a few feet from Collette, the tips of his leather dress shoes just inches short of the large deep red pool that surrounds her.

“You know, I think smoking causes heart attacks. Cigarette, cigars…no matter. I mean the smell of them Billy, they smell like pure cat shit. That can’t be good for anyone.”

Collette turns around, a wide smile spreads across her beautiful pale face. Her once bright white heels slide in the viscous human liquid, streaks of red cover the tops of her feet and nude nylons. Huge bright swaths of vermillion stain her slim fitting white dress. Specks and thin lines of the gore cling to her neatly styled brunette hair. Surprisingly, her face is untouched by the recent butchery; the only color is the bright ruby that is painted on her plump lips. She grips a soiled kitchen knife in her left hand tightly. Billy raises his hands slowly to demonstrate he means her no harm.

“Oh, little sister look at the mess you’ve made.”

And that ladies and gentlemen was the evening news for September 24th. Have a good night and see you tomorrow. Up next is Judy Garland in the new…

“Shush, Billy! The Ford Star Jubilee is starting! I’ve been waiting for this for ages. I so do love Judy. Mommy thinks she’s a trollop, but I think she is perfect.”

Billy sighs heavily and turns around on his heels. He marches over to the television set and reaches for the switch. His fingers stop short of the blood splattered dial. He chokes down the slight vomit that has risen to his throat. He reaches into the front pocket of his suit jacket and pulls out a neatly pressed handkerchief. Billy shakes it open and uses the handkerchief as a shield against the filth. Within a couple of clicks the television switches off.

“Billy! Turn that back on now!”

Collette rushes towards him and grabs the back of his suit jacket. He spins around and grabs her by the forearms. The knife she still clutches tightly in her hand slices across his wrists.

“Ow, Jesus Christ Collette!”

Billy slaps the woman hard against her smooth face and the force knocks her to the ground. She lands on her backside; the jolt from the fall loosens her grip on the knife and it slips from her grasp.

“Ouch, Billy I didn’t mean to hurt you. I just...”

“Shut up. Just fucking shut up, ok? Jesus Christ. Jesus fucking Christ, Collette.”

Billy walks past Collette, who still lies on the floor, and towards the mayhem she created just moments before. He walks up to the cream-colored pillow backed sofa that sits across from the television. His eyes stare into the gaping sloppy mess that was his stepfather Harry’s head. Remnants of Harry’s dome douse a perimeter of about 10 feet from where the body still sits. The only distinguishable remains of the corpse’s face are the defined prominent lower jaw with several teeth still intact. The rest is just bits of flesh, hair, and red hamburger like meat. That morning’s newspaper is still clutched in the corpse’s cold hands.

Billy turns and looks back at Collette; concern showing on his face. “And where is mom, Collette?”

Collette slowly raises her hand and points towards the doorway that leads to the kitchen. Billy swallows hard and starts his short trek to their mother’s location. His steps begin to feel heavier the closer he gets to the doorway. He begins to take in large breaths of air as his heart begins to pound again against his chest. Several beads of sweat slide down from his scalp and into his eyes. He quickly swipes away the salty perspiration as he enters the doorway.

The badly mangled body of a middle-aged woman lies in a supine position against the linoleum kitchen floor. Her eyes have been gouged out and the bloody sockets hold several stems of decorative plastic flowers, daises. The clothes have been removed and lie neatly folded on the counter next to the sink. The woman’s corpse is split open from sternum to navel; the flaps of skin hastily pulled out and clamped together with the love handles by clothes pins. The abdomen is emptied save for the spine which is still intact. The heart lies next to the dead mother’s left ear; a large chunk ripped from the top of the organ.

Billy falls to his knees and begins to sob. He leans forward and places his palms against the cool linoleum and howls in agony. He ceases his cries as the tapping of heels against the floor echo around him. “How could you? How could you do this to them?” Billy pushes himself up and sits back against his heels.

“I don’t know, Billy. I just did. I…I couldn’t stop. This feeling…it just comes to me sometimes and the more I ignore it the more it gets louder and…”

“You fucking butchered them like cattle…no, not like cattle. At least they are euthanized humanely. I don’t even know how to begin to describe what you did.”

Collette lowers and sits delicately next to her brother. She places her head against his upper arm.

“Well, I took Harry’s shotgun and a box of shells that he hides under his bed, and I shot him in the face. Several times. I kind of lost count though. Then I waited for mom to come home.”

Billy shoves her head off him and scoots away from her. He grips the kitchen cabinets and slowly pulls himself to his feet. Collette stands and shrugs. “What’s wrong Billy? Harry was another asshole Mommy met at a bar and shacked up with. At least this time she had the good sense to marry the bastard so that the biddies in town would stop calling her a whore.”

“You shut your mouth! Shut your filthy mouth, you freak! She was your mother. I thought all this crazy was behind us after we got you that help. Got you that help from that shrink in the city after you killed Mr. Bennett!”

Collette scoffs and rolls her eyes at her brother. “He died in a car accident, silly. Don’t you remember? I was just a child, same as you, when that idiot got piss ass drunk and crashed his truck. Tragic. As for our mother, Pssh! Just another drunk floozy that didn’t give a damn about her children. As I recall, she let that monster beat the shit outta you constantly.”

Billy begins to creep towards the entrance to the living room. His eyes glance down to the kitchen knife storage block to his left on the countertop. He jolts towards it and snatches the second largest blade left in the block. He spins around and swings the blade forward towards Collette. His hands tremble causing the knife to wobble up and down. Collette leans back against the fridge and releases a hearty laugh. “What are you going to do, kill me?”

Billy slides over to the entranceway to the living room keeping the knife pointed at Collette. His eyes begin to swell with more tears as he backs into the living room. “That night Mr. Beckett died, and I found you standing over mom with a knife…you promised me you wouldn’t hurt any of us.”

Collette sighs and raises her hands out towards her brother, motioning for an embrace. “I did. I promised I wouldn’t, and I promised to get help. I did everything you asked of me. I only asked you for one thing; to never leave me. To not leave us. Everything was fine until you found that skank in college.”

Billy lowered the knife and straightened himself. “That skank will be my wife in a few weeks.”

Collette, arms still outstretched, motions for her brother to come to her. Billy cautiously moves towards her his arms now plastered down at his sides. He stops a few inches short of Collette’s face and bends down, burying his face into her thin shoulder. She wraps her red stained arms around his back and presses her face against his chest.

“You’re breaking your promise. You are gonna marry that bitch and move away with her. Mommy was going to leave me too. They said they was taking Callie and going to move to Arizona after your wedding. They was going to leave me here all alone and so are you!”

Billy raises his face from Collette’s shoulder and rests his chin on top of her head. He looks past the stiffening corpse of his mother and notices the long-twisted telephone cord running from the base on the wall, down along the floor, and up into the bottom kitchen cabinet that was left slightly ajar. He squints his eyes to get a better look and in the thin opening of the cabinet he catches a slight glimpse of small pink fingertips gripped tightly around the telephone cord.

Callie. In his state of panic at the slaughter that befell his mother and stepfather, he had completely forgotten about the whereabouts of his baby sister, Callie. At some point during Collette’s carnage, Callie must have grabbed the telephone and hid in the bottom kitchen cabinet. Who did she call? The distant sound of sirens woke Billy up from his thoughts and he wrapped his arms around Collette tightly. He felt her lean more into his chest; her body relaxing in his tight embrace. He looked down at his right hand which still held the knife. He raised his right arm maneuvering the knife tip down as his hand moved in position. He let out a deep sigh as he readied the blade.

Collette squeezed her brother tighter and lifted her head to look upon his face. “I love you, Billy.”

Billy pauses. He looks down at his sister and kisses her gently on the forehead. The wail of the sirens now echoes throughout the house; blinking red lights enter the half-drawn kitchen windows and reflect in Collette’s wide dark eyes. Collette’s face contorts in confusion, and she pushes Billy off her. She spins around and spots the telephone cord running through the bottom cabinet doors. She sprints towards the cabinet, hopping over her mother, and springs forward arms stretched out. Billy chases after her his knife raised high. Collette flings open the cabinet doors as Callie cradles the telephone receiver and screams. Billy lurches forward to grab his oldest sister but misses when he finds himself stuck in place. He quickly looks down and notices that in his hurry, he accidentally stepped inside his mother’s open chest cavity. He screams as he tugs at his leg to get free from the corpses grasp. Collette grabs her younger sister by the ponytail and drags her out of the cabinet.

Collette jerks Callie up straight and wraps her long fingers around her little sister’s small neck. She begins to squeeze tightly. “Why would you do that? Why would you call the cops, Callie? I loved you!”

Billy grits his teeth and closes his eyes as he falls to the floor and begins to use his free leg to kick at his mother’s corpse to free himself. Muffled yelling and repetitious banging from the police outside begin to fill the kitchen as Billy finally frees himself. He pulls himself up and immediately dives for Collette. He grabs around her waist and the two begin to struggle. Fully freed, Callie places her hands around her neck and doubles over grasping for air. Billy manages to overtake Collette from behind, his left arm holding her across her sternum and still against his chest. “Callie, go open the front door! Now!”

Callie slowly nods as she stumbles out of the kitchen still gasping for breath. Billy squeezes Collette tightly against him as he raises his right arm high. Collette’s eyes widen as she stares up at the knife point. “Wait! Please, don’t do this!”

Billy inhales as he drives the knife into his sister’s stomach. He jerks the knife out of her flesh as he exhales. He inhales once more, bringing the knife back down into Collette’s bloodied abdomen. He releases his grip and watches as Collette falls to the floor face first. Her head bounces off the linoleum hard, her blood seeping out from her wounds in a large pool as her body ceases movement. Billy looks up and sees the kitchen piling in with officers, their guns drawn on him. Billy slowly raises his hands and lets the knife slip from his grasp. The CLANG of the knife bouncing on the linoleum reverberates inside his head. A baby-faced officer grabs him by the arm and pulls him towards the living room. Billy turns his gaze back and watches as two officers flip Collette over and search for a pulse. The officer pulls Billy hard out of the kitchen and into the living room.

An older stubby officer places two fat fingers against Collette’s pulse points checking for any signs of life. His partner, a thick mustachioed middle-aged man with a dark complexion, leans his ear close to her face to check her breathing. The older man looks down at his partner and shakes his head grimacing. The partner nods and begins to rise as Collette twitches suddenly and coughs up blood. The officer falls back and shrieks as her eyelids snap open. She opens her mouth wide and inhales a wheezy breath. The old man spins towards the entranceway and hollers for help. “Get a medic! We got one alive in here!”

Los Angeles – December 23rd (Night) 1968

The taxi screeches to a halt jolting Collette awake. The cabbie pulls the taxi into a secluded alleyway and kills the engine. Collette looks out of the windows of the taxi. “Where are we?”

The cabbie chuckles and begins to unbutton his shirt. “We are about a block away from the Egyptian. That’s as close as I’m gonna take ya. Now it’s time for my payment.”

Collette rolls her eyes and begins to dig through her purse. The cabbie snatches her arm and squeezes her wrist tightly. Collette’s stomach begins to churn as she feels his clammy greasy palms begin to rub up and down her arm.

“You can give me the money after we finished. I want a little action first.”

Her hand still in the purse, begins to search around for Ben’s Bowie knife she pilfered from his duffel bag. “You know I have a couple big scars that run across my belly. Might turn off a dignified man such as yourself from getting intimate.”

The cabbie removes his hand from her arm as he begins to unfasten his belt. He laughs deeply as he begins to tug down his soiled trousers. “Ma’am, I’ve fucked whores with sores and critters in their fanny’s, ain’t no scar gonna turn me off.”

Collette’s fingers brush against the cold steel of the Bowie knife. She slowly runs her fingers along the blade until she finds the hilt. She wraps her fingers around the hilt as she slowly pulls the knife from her purse. “Well, Mr. Cabbie…how about that poke then?”