Vanishing Point: One-hundred-one of 101

Tags

Caleb Ezra Morse, Doctor Goldstein, Doctor Kay Bikerman, Elohim's Army, Florida, Manny Taisto, Marti Kohnen, Officer Tierney Rosenstock, Pasco County, Pasco County Sherriff’s District Three Office, Sara Kohnen, Stacie Shannon, Suzann Layher, Trinity Florida, Trinity Hospital

PART ONE-HUNDRED-ONE

The noise from the living room poured into the bedroom. Skylar entered the room but, other than the blood-soaked bed, found no sign of her father or Marti. “Marti?” she asked. “It’s Skylar. Where are you?”

“Here,” Marti said quietly. “Other side of the bed.”

Skylar limped to the far side of the bed where Marti, crouched low, covered in blood, her sports bra pulled back up and stuffed with a pillowcase to staunch her bleeding, knife in hand, knelt beside Caleb.

“Is he,” Skylar began, paused and then continued, “Is he dead?”

“Not yet,” Marti replied, holding the knife to Caleb’s throat. “He’s got a pulse. I was just debating…”

“No, Marti! No! Sara needs you! If you kill him, you’ll go to prison. Prison’s where my daddy turned bad. Please don’t! Not for his sake, for Sara’s. And yours. Please?”

Marti dropped the knife. “You think Sara needs me?”

“I know she does. We all need to be loved.”

“God, I love that kid,” Marti said as the Pasco County deputies poured into the room, guns drawn and pointed to the heavens, “I really do. Thanks, Skylar.”

The cops rushed to Marti’s side of the bed, declaring, “Police! Police! Hands up!”

“Really?” Marti responded. “Really? Thanks for letting me know. My name’s Marti Kohnen and I’m the victim here, dip-shits. Me and my friend Skylar Kisor and that poor lady out there, Mrs. McNutt. Now, get us to the damn doctor. That ass-hole down there bit my damn nipple off.”

************

Mrs. McNutt didn’t survive; her resuscitation proved too large a miracle for paramedics with a defibrillator, but her death added Murder One to Caleb Ezra Morse’s criminal charges.

At Trinity Hospital, Marti pulled her gnawed off nipple from the right side of her bra, handed it to Doctor Bikerman and demanded, “First you bring me to my daughter then you get that reattached, got it?” Kay Bikerman knew just the man for the job, a reconstructive surgeon named Goldstein who specialized in post mastectomy breast reconstruction.

Manny Taisto was loosely handcuffed, hands in front, and transported to Officer Tierney Rosenstock’s Pasco County Sherriff’s District Three Office where he was questioned and released. During the interview he confided, “You know, I was NYPD for twenty-years, Pasco Deputy for five and I never shot nobody. I can’t tell how glad I am the piece of crap lived,” he left unsaid the, “for my sake,” that he was thinking.

Skylar, whose physical wounds were minor, was examined and released. “Mama, I don’t want to go back to our house,” she confided.

“Baby, I don’t know where else we can go,” Karla said mournfully.

Stacie looked at Suzann, shrugged and said, “Why don’t you stay at my place tonight. You can work this out in the morning.”

“Thank you, Stacie,” Karla replied. “You’re like an angel to me.”

“You’re the one with the wings,” Stacie said with a smile. “Suzann? You sobered up? I can take you to your car or you can sleep on my couch.”

“Plenty sober, thank you. I need my bed. Karla? I’m sorry we didn’t listen right away. We had no idea.”

“Oh, please. How could you? I’m just glad they locked Caleb up.”

“What about Elohim? What are you going to do?” Suzann asked.

“I own’t know. Talk to the police. But tomorrow. I’m exhausted.”

“Me, too,” Stacie declared. “Let’s go.”

The four females were heading for the door when officer Rosenstock’s voice stopped them. “Ladies? Ladies!” she called from a distance. Eliminating the gap between them she added, “I just wanted to say good work. I think it’s safe to say that you four plus Sara and Taisto saved the day here.”

“Hey!” Skylar said, “Don’t forget Marti.”

“As if,” Tierney replied shaking her head. “That woman want’s a deputy to meet her husband at the airport. Says if she can’t be there to tell him what happened then we need to. Talk about a piece of work.”

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Vanishing Point: Ninety-nine of 101

Tags

Black Lake Road, Caleb Ezra Morse, Florida, Manny Taisto, Marti Kohnen, Mrs. McNutt, Pasco County, Skylar Kisor, Trinity Florida

PART NINETY-NINE

Marti’s harrowing scream pushed Manny’s hesitation aside and he slammed the front door open, rolled into the living room and lay flat on the floor with his gun pointing ahead. Manny’s badge had been retired for five years, but his training remained. He scanned the scene, looking for threats, victims, targets. Seeing an old woman slumped on the couch, hands bound behind her along with a young girl bound to a chair, he knelt on one knee, raised his gun skyward, patted his chest and mouthed, ‘Good guy,’ before turning his left hand palm up, twisting his head left, right, left and focusing back on the girl.

Skylar, eyes filled with terror, nodded her head toward the master bedroom and mouthed, ‘Bedroom.’

Manny nodded, mouthed, ‘Your mom sent me,’ sprang to his feet, ran to the closed bedroom door and stood with gun ready. Marti’s screams were unintelligible, but her pain required no words. Manny twisted his head momentarily to the right, exhaled an expletive and slammed the bedroom door open.

On the bed Caleb held a knife and Marti bled profusely from the left side of her chest. “Drop it! Drop it! Drop it!” Manny demanded but Caleb, rather than complying, sprang from the bed. Manny fired a single shot from his Glock and Caleb’s arc of direction changed perceptibly, the knife flew from his hand, his feet flew out from under him and he slammed against the nightstand by the old, wooden, double-bed with the now red-stained, thread-bare, white bedspread.

Keeping his gun pointed toward Caleb’s crumbled form Manny raced to the man’s side, determined that the Glock had done its job and, head swiveling between Caleb and Marti roared, “My name is Manny Taisto! I’m a c…,” he stopped mid-word, corrected himself and continued, “I’m a friend. Cops are on their way!”

Manny picked up the knife, placed it far from Caleb, holstered his gun, looked once more at the man’s unmoving form and said, “Marti! Are you all right? Can you talk?” as he grabbed a pillow and pressed it to the woman’s fast bleeding flesh.

“Ahhhh,” Marti said nodding hard and fast. “I think so. Bastard bit my nipple off. Jesus!” she emitted a low growl of pain. “Can you untie my hands?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Manny looked at her duct-taped wrists, his head swiveling. “Hang on,” he declared, rising from the bed, doing a quick visual on Caleb’s still unmoving form, grabbing the knife and hurrying to the bed’s far side where he cut through the tape that bound Marti’s hands and feet. “You okay?” he demanded again, his eyes inches from hers.

“I think,” Marti said, a sob erupting.

“Okay,” Manny replied, “there’s an old lady slumped on the couch out there. Cops and paramedics’ll be right here. I think she may a had a heart attack. I gotta check. You okay?”

“Go!” Marti said, hiding her tears and sobs behind hands that covered her face. “Go. Check on her,” she added, motioning with her elbow.

“Okay. You’ll be fine. The old lady, what’s her name?”

“McNutt?” Marti replied, resuming eye-contact with Manny. “I think it’s McNutt. Take care of her.”

Manny nodded. “You’re one hell of a lady.”

Vanishing Point: Ninety-eight of 101

Tags

"WARNING! Sexual Violence! Grossly coarse language! WARNING!", Caleb Ezra Morse, Florida, Mano A Mano, Marti Kohnen, Pasco County, Trinity Florida

WARNING! Sexual Violence! Grossly coarse language! WARNING!

PART NINETY-EIGHT

Caleb closed the bedroom door, slipped his Doc Martin’s off and stretched out on the bed next to Marti. “Well, little Golda Meier, I gotta tell you that you’ve made one hell of an impression on my daughter,” he said, placing his hand on Marti’s knee and sliding it slowly up to her face. “She’s in there all worried about you,” he added, tweaking her nose with his fingertip. “Ain’t that nice?”

Marti frantically shook her head back and forth, her eyes wild with anger. “Shh, shh, shh, shh, shh!” Caleb admonished. “Now hold on,” he said, grabbing her hair with one hand and ripping the duct-tape from her mouth with the other. “There! Ain’t that better?”

“You piece of shit!” Marti hissed. “Coward! You’re a big man when I’m hog tied, aren’t you? How about you and me go mano a mano? Or are you afraid of a girl?”

“Afraid? Of a little Goldie-locks like you? Please. Oh, I’m gonna untie you, easier to get to some of your prime parts that way, but we won’t be man to manning, we’ll be man to womaning, and you’re gonna know it; big time.”

“Man to womaning? You really are a stupid shit, aren’t you? Mano a mano means hand to hand, not man to man, dumb-ass. You wanna give it a go, boy? Untie me, If you’re so big and bad.”

“Fuck you, Jew. I’ll untie you and then bend you over butt good. You’ll be seeing six pointed stars before I’m through with you.”

“What the hell is with you and the Jew thing? I told you, I’m not Jewish, not that it matters, cuz no matter how we slice it you’re a piece of shit. Chicken-shit, that is.”

“Not a Jew? Really? You’re full a shit. Or, what? Your mama was a Jew but your daddy’s a Catholic? You look kinda like a cashew, half-Catholic half-Jewish.”

“Whatever. Chicken-shit.”

“Ha! Knew it. Cashew through and through, aren’t you?” Caleb declared grabbing his hunting knife from the bed. “And now,” he added, flashing his knife blade in front of Marti’s eye before tearing her left nipple off with his teeth, “let’s see how you taste, like fish, or like Matza?”

Marti screamed in agony as Caleb, spitting her sheared flesh into her face, laughed and used the knife to cut the rope that held her duct-tape bound hands to her duct-taped bound feet. “Come on little cashew,” Caleb said, “it’s party time.”

 

Vanishing Point: Ninety-seven of 101

Tags

Black Lake Road, Caleb Ezra Morse, Florida, Heart Attack, Manny Taisto, Marti Kohnen, Mrs. McNutt, Pasco County, Skylar Kisor, State Road Fifty-four, Trinity Florida

PART NINETY-SEVEN

          Caleb’s presence made Mrs. McNutt’s labored breathing even more jagged. Walking by her on his way to Skylar, Caleb said, “It’s okay, ma’am; nobody’s going to hurt you,” and patted her well-padded shoulder.

          She recoiled, nostrils flaring, and head quivering rapidly left to right half-an-inch on a side. A damp slickness covered Mrs. McNutt’s face and she swallowed bile before uttering, “Please leave her alone. Please leave us alone. Can’t you just leave before anything truly terrible happens?”

          “Afraid I got business. Business with Marti in there and business with Karla. Now, don’t you fret. Ain’t no harm gonna come to you.”

          “Everything’s wrong with you here,” Mrs. McNutt sobbed. “My stomach hurts, my shoulder’s aching, even my jaw hurts. Please. Just go. I won’t call the police. Leave that woman, leave Skylar and just go. And my arms. You have my arms too tight. They ache,” she moaned, lip trembling and eyes tear filled.

           “I’d like to, but I can’t,” Caleb said. “I got business. Plus, my vans stuck, so I guess you’re stuck with me.”

          “No! No. Take my keys. Take my car. Just leave us alone.”

          “Well, thank you, ma’am! I’m sure I’ll do just that, but not yet. Why own’t you just simmer down and relax. I needs to check on Skylar,” Caleb said with a condescending triple nod.

          Turning from the couch to the kitchen chair Caleb looked down at his daughter, eyebrows raised. “You holding up? Where you figure your mama’s at?”

          Skylar, head down but eyes up, did not answer. “Oh, Jesus, girl. Really? You ain’t seen me since you was in kindy-garden and now you won’t even talk to me? See what your mama’s done with her lies? With her stealing you? You been poisoned. That’s okay though. We’ll make it right; you just wait.”

          “What are you doing with Marti?” Skylar asked through clenched teeth. “You said you’d untie her.”

          “No, little girl, I did not. I said I’d come back and get her and I sure as hell did, so don’t be calling me no liar. It’s your mama who’s been lying to ya, not me.

          “I’m educating, Marti, that’s all. Teaching her things she don’t know nothing about. And I gotta get back to it. She’s mighty lonely in there. You okay? Need anything?”

          Caleb shrugged his shoulders in response to Skylar silence. “Okay. Suit yourself. I’ll be back,” he muttered, rising from his crouched position, turning on his heel and heading back into the master bedroom.

************

          From his position by the second window on the wheelchair ramp Manny heard Caleb’s and Mrs. McNutt’s voices but couldn’t make out any words. The white ranch stood on a three-foot-tall stone foundation, something rarely found in Florida, and the extra elevation made for a long, straight ramp. “Come on, guys,” he whispered to himself, again scanning Black Lake and State Road Fifty-four for emergency vehicles. “This ain’t my job no more.”

          The voices ended, and Manny carefully made his way up the ramp past the two single windows near the bottom up to the triple singles that stood in for a low-cost picture-window. The curtain lace that covered the windows obscured Manny’s vision, but he could make out a lone figure sitting on the couch and another sitting close by on a straight-backed chair.

          Manny crouched down so only the top of his head was above the bottom of the window pane and listened intently. “The last thing I wanna do is play hero. No,” he corrected himself, “the last thing I wanna do is sit outside while an innocent kid gets hurt. Come on, Easton. Get here!”

Vanishing Point: Ninety-three of 101

Tags

"WARNING! Grossly coarse language- sexual violence", Caleb Ezra Morse, Elohim's Army, Florida, Hot Mama, Marti Kohnen, Mrs. McNutt, Skylar Kisor, Trinity Florida

WARNING! Grossly coarse language- sexual violence.

PART NINETY-THREE

Caleb found the master bedroom and let out a hoot. “Hey, Marti!” he declared, stretching out the “e” sound, “Guess what I found!” he added in sing-song as he walked from the bedroom to the front door where Marti lay crammed against the wall.

Standing over his victim Caleb declared, “A great big bed where the two of us can get to know each other! Isn’t that great?” he asked, reaching down and grabbing her by an ankle.

Marti, with feet bound and arms and legs tied together behind her back, had little room to respond but she used what little slack the rope afforded to flail impotently away.

“Why, Marti,” Caleb declared, a lopsided grin filling his face, “I’d almost think that you don’t want to play. That can’t be right, can it?”

“You leave that poor woman alone!” Mrs. McNutt demanded from her confined position. “I called you an animal before and I was right! Animal!” she screamed.

Caleb looked toward the old woman and grinned wider. “Oh, come on Mrs. Mic N, don’t get yourself in a lather. I been watching good ole Marti Pants for days and I can absolutely assure you I ain’t gonna do anything to her she don’t deserve. Biggest bitch I ever met, despite her temptress exterior. I’m just gonna give her a little bit of her own, that’s all.

“Ain’t I, Hot Mama?” Caleb added, grinning down at Marti.

“No, Daddy!” Skylar demanded, making the chair to which she was bound hop up and down. “No! Stop it.”

“Oh, Skylar, I’m sorry. It’s part of Elohim’s plan. The righteous shall bring His judgement to bear on the unrighteous. Me an Marti here got us a date an were gonna have us a real heart to heart,” Caleb declared before lowering his voice and adding, “As well as a few other body parts ta other body parts, if’n ya knows what I mean, Hot Mama.”

Returning his voice to conversational levels he declared, “Don’t fret, child. It’ll all make sense once we strip your heart of Lucifer’s lies. Give me five minutes; I’ll be right back,” he said, dragging Marti into the bedroom as his daughter and Mrs. McNutt yelled for him to stop.

Once in the bedroom Caleb bent at the knees and hoisted Marti to the top of the old double bed, dropping her unceremoniously on the weathered, white, frayed bedspread. “Why look, Marti,” he said, removing the knife from its sheath and laying it on the bed before bending low to get to her ear. “the bedspread’s white, like a bride’s dress! Ain’t that sweet?” he added, pulling her tight top down and cupping her left breast.

Marti’s eyes flared in anger as she flailed her head left and right, screaming as best she could, but the duct-tape kept her volume low and her articulation unintelligible.

“You like that don’t cha?” Caleb asked, picking up the knife and pressing the blade against Marti’s nipple. “My what big knockers you have,” Caleb continued in a big-bad-wolf voice, “Is that all the better to bring men to sin with, bitch?” he asked with a laugh, pinching her nipple between his thumb and the knife blade until it pinked with a spot of blood.

Marti flinched in pain, a guttural sound escaping her throat as Caleb, licking the blood from her breast asked, “Same doctor who gave you that little WASP nose give you them bodacious boobies? What was his name? Doctor Nosenstein or Doctor Boobelah? Either way, God knows you got ‘em the old-fashioned way; on your back.

“Speaking a back, I’m gonna leave you be fer a bit. Gotta check on Mrs. McN and Skylar. Now you wait here, you hear?” he asked with a laugh as he closed the bedroom door behind him.

Marti stared at the knife Caleb had left lying on the bed, trying frantically to free herself.

 

Vanishing Point: Eighty-eight of 101

Tags

"WARNING! Grossly coarse language", Black Lake Road, Caleb Ezra Morse, Florida, Marti Kohnen, Mrs. McNutt, Skylar Kisor, Trinity Florida

PART EIGHTY-EIGHT

Caleb grabbed Marti’s ankle and pulled her toward him. Marti, with hands and feet bound and limbs hogtied together, could do little but flail in impotence as he arranged her in the van’s passenger compartment in preparation to throwing her over his shoulder. “Yo! Knish! You got some heft to ya, Hot Mama,” Caleb declared, grunting as he threw the woman over his right shoulder and slid the door shut with his left hand.

Reaching forward, Caleb firmly grabbed Skylar’s right upper arm in his left hand, digging his fingertips into her bicep sufficiently to make his daughter gasp, but not so much that she cried out in pain. “Sorry, sweetie,” he said, pushing her forward as they moved from the swampy ground that imprisoned his van to Black Lake Road, “but once burned twice shy. You tried to run once so now you’re gonna have to earn my trust back. Come on,” he added, stepping out of the mud and contacting the road’s shoulder.

The distance from the van to Mrs. McNutt’s driveway was perhaps sixty feet and Caleb walked the solid white line of Black Lake Road as he labored with his squirming, fleshy burden. The thin sliver of moon did little to illuminate his way and he hesitated before leaving the tarmac and stepping onto the white stone of the McNutt drive. Exhaling deeply, he turned his head slightly to the right and spoke to Marti.

“Listen, Crikey. Pavement ends here and walking on gravel means I could slip and fall. I’m only telling you this because if I do I’m falling your way and landing on top of you, get it? There’s gravel. I won’t be able to catch myself, and if I fall you’re just gonna end up being my little JAP airbag, so I’d stop squirming if I was you,” he said, biting her ass through her skin-tight capris. “Here go,” he added, stepping forward.

The McNutt driveway presented Caleb with a more difficult sixty feet to maneuver than the paved Black Lake Road had, and the gravel plus Caleb’s fatigue slowed his pace as it increased his heart and respiration rates. Arriving at the wheelchair ramp that led to the front door of the McNutt house, Caleb released Skylar’s arm and commanded, “Go open the door, girl. You don’t want me to drop Miss Marti here, do you?”

Skylar looked at her father, said nothing, and complied with his command.

“Good,” Caleb said, following his daughter up the ramp and leaning over to deposit Marti on the ramp’s wooden handrail. “You stay put, now; you hear?” Caleb asked, watching his captive sink from the rail to the ramp’s upper platform in a controlled fall. Giving Marti a wink, Caleb reached down and patted the woman’s head, declaring, “I’ll be right back!” as he followed Skylar into the house.

Caleb walked directly to Mrs. McNutt and checked on her. The woman glared at him and he smiled in response. “Sorry to keep you here all alone for so long. Took a little longer’n I expected. Hang on a sec and I’ll be right back,” he added, going to the front door and pulling Marti to the faded linoleum strip that adorned the entryway.

“Skylar? Come ‘er a sec, sweetie.” Skylar hesitated, and Caleb sprung from his crouched position by Marti, landing on the balls of his Doc Martin clad feet. “Damn, girl. You have got to learn to mind,” Caleb declared, reaching for the duct-tape and fastening his daughter’s arms behind her back in a kitchen chair. Caleb lifted his daughter up by the chair and carried her to the living room where he placed her next to the couch.

Gently removing the duct-tape from his daughter’s mouth he asked her, “You okay?” and shrugged at her lack of response.

“Okay. Have it your way. I was gonna untape good ole Mrs. McNutt’s mouth, but if you can’t talk I guess there ain’t no reason to.”

“I can talk,” Skylar replied, eyes on the floor.

“Well good!” Caleb said. Returning to Mrs. McNutt, Caleb knelt beside her, used equal care to pull the tape from her mouth and asked, “And how about you, ma’am? Are you okay?”

Mrs. McNutt flared her nostrils in response, inhaled deeply and looked Caleb squarely in the eyes. “I suppose I’m fine. For now.”

“Good,” Caleb said, nodding, “let’s get you over to that couch,” he added, assisting the old woman to her feet and lending a helping hand as she sunk into the soft, low, worn couch cushions.

Once seated, Mrs. McNutt looked Caleb in the eyes and demanded, “What are you going to do to that poor woman?”

“Me and Marti? Why we’re gonna have a party. Now, which one of these rooms has the biggest bed?”

Vanishing Point: Eighty-six of 101

Tags

"ATTENTION: WARNING! Grossly coarse language", Black Lake Road, Caleb Ezra Morse, Elohim's Army, Florida, Marti Khonen, Marti Kohnen, Skylar Kisor, State Road Fifty-four, Trinity Florida

WARNING! Grossly coarse language.

PART EIGHTY-SIX

Caleb put a steadying hand on Skylar’s shoulder as they wound their way through the underbrush that covered the spongy ground adjacent to Mrs. McNutt’s property. In addition to duct taping Skylar’s mouth shut, Caleb had loosely bound her hands behind her back, and the last thing Caleb wanted was for his precious daughter to fall and injure herself as they retraced their steps in the black swamp.

Ideally, Caleb would have brought Skylar to one of his Elohim’s Army compatriots where she could be properly brought into the fold but, as warriors had noted since Abraham and his three-hundred-eighteen fought the armies of Shinar, warriors go to war with the army that they have, not with the army that they wished they had.

There was no time to introduce Skylar to God’s truth via a slow, inch by inch, gradual sanctification into His holy waters. No, tonight Skylar was going to be fully immersed in righteousness and baptized with the blood of justice.

Skylar stumbled a bit and Caleb, hand already loosely encircling her arm just below the armpit, gripped more firmly to prevent her from falling. “Easy there, sugar,” he whispered in her ear. “We’re almost there.”

The van wasn’t far and Caleb, knife in hand and hands at the ready should his guest somehow be lying in wait for him, slid the rear door open quickly. No street lights adorned either Black Lake Road nor hundred feet distant State Road Fifty-four, so Marti was more of a darker black patch within the van’s unlit black interior than an easily discernable human entity.

“Yo, yo, yo!” Caleb said to Marti as he opened the door. “I told you we’d be back! Did you miss us?” he asked, tapping the base of her neck with his knife handle, “Cuz it’s party-time!”

Marti emitted a stunned groan from the sharp pain of Caleb’s quick, hard rap and Caleb smiled in satisfaction. “That’s just the beginning, hook nose,” he whispered in Marti’s ear. “I got a real special night planned for the two of us.

“Come on, Skylar,” he said, turning his attention back to his daughter, and opening the van’s front passenger door, “we gotta get Miss Marti pants here up to your place. I bet she’s right anxious to see the inside a your house.”

State Road Fifty-four was busy, visible, and easily accessed via a short section of connecting Black Lake Road asphalt. With Caleb’s attention split between Skylar and Marti, the little girl made a quick dash out from the weedy niche where the van was parked and toward the six-lane. Caleb grabbed for his daughter’s wrist but caught nothing but a little bit of the girl’s skin under his nails as she valiantly tried to run from him in the dark.

Skylar managed five steps forward before snagging a fallen log and slamming into the wet, muddy ground. Caleb towered over her, his face portraying a mixture of anger and delight. “Girl, you are a fighter, ain’t cha? I like that about you!” he said sincerely, reaching down and grasping her by one arm and jerking his daughter skyward. “But you have got to learn to mind!” he said, pushing his face to within a fraction of an inch of hers.

Walking her back to the van he thrust her into the passenger seat, pointed a finger in her face and said, “Now. You stay right there. I’m gonna pull this van up to the house and then you and me’s gonna have a chat and then me and Miss Marti’s gonna have a little party. Got it?!” he demanded, slamming the door as he uttered his question.

Turning from the front of the van to the rear he added, “And now, little Miss bar code, you’re gonna get exactly what you’ve got coming.” Which he punctuated with another door slam.

Walking in front of the van, Caleb slid into the driver’s seat, turned the ignition key and, after pulling the column mounted gear shift into D, pushed his foot on the accelerator. Rather than lurching forward the van’s tires spun ferociously, and Caleb brought his hands to his face, covering his eyes with his palms and tightly squeezing the crown of his head and temples. “Fuck shit! God damned, mother fucking, son of a bitch!

“Fine,” he added calmly, taking a deep breath and forcing a smile to his face, “We’ll walk.” Stepping out of the van he returned to Skylar, grabbed her from the van, plunked her down on the ground and commanded, “Stay!” before opening the rear door, grabbing Marti, throwing her over his shoulder and declaring to Skylar, “Shut the god damned doors and come on. I’ve had enough of this shit.”

 

Vanishing Point: Seventy-six of 101

Tags

Black Lake Road, Caleb Ezra Morse, Florida, Marti Kohnen, Mrs. McNutt, Sixth Commandment, Skylar Kisor, Trinity Florida, Walnut Mississippi

PART SEVENTY-SIX

Caleb retraced the residential route Skylar and Sara had taken back towards Mrs. McNutt’s and the adjacent shack where Skylar and Karla lived. Turning right onto Vanderbilt Road he declared, “These here are pretty nice houses. How long you and your mama been living here?”

“We don’t live here,” Skylar responded, head down and arms encircling her shins. “We live behind Mrs. McNutt.”

“McNutt?” Caleb said with a laugh. “That’s kind a funny name, don’t-cha think? McNutt. I like it. She nice?”

“Yes.”

“Huh. How old is she?”

“Old.”

“Like, how old?”

“I own’t know. Old. Like, older’n Papi.”

“My granddaddy? That is old. How long you been there?”

“Since Christmas.”

“Oh, yeah? Huh! That must a been a nice Christmas present. Where was you living before you moved in behind old lady McNutt?”

“Place called Walnut.”

“Wait! In Mississippi? Like a hour east a Memphis? You are kidding me! I was there on business right around Christmas. Damn, girl! That’s a shame! We could a had a reunion if only your mama’d let me know.

“You know, she sent me a note while I was, well, while I was away, saying you’d died and I was real beat up about it. Terrible beat up. Like fit to die. She sends me this note and then she just up and disappears. I been trying to find her ever since. I ain’t seen you since you was five and when she said you was dead that just broke my heart. I cannot tell you how glad I am to see you again.”

“Mama told you I was dead? She told me you was. That you died in prison.”

“Did she? Interesting. Nope. Not dead. See?!” he asked throwing out both arms and smiling wide. “I wonder why she would do such an evil thing.”

Caleb stopped at the tee-intersection for Black Lake Road. “Which way?” he asked.

“Right. We’re almost there.”

“Yeah. These are nice. What cher mama doing to afford a house like this?”

“I told you,” Skylar said, overemphasizing ‘told,’ “we don’t live here! We live behind Mrs. McNutt’s!”

Caleb snapped his right hand to his left ear as his nostrils flared and his lips disappeared. Checking himself, he said calmly, “Don’t talk to me that way, Skylar. Respect for your parents is the Sixth Commandment. Karla teaching you the Bible?”

“Some. No. Not really. I mean, yes, but not a lot. She says some people use the Bible to do evil and we need to be careful not to listen to evil men make God’s Good Book a instrument of the devil.”

“Does she?” Caleb said with a half-smile and double nod. “How interesting. Your mama’s right about that. Some folks misinterpret the Bible six ways to Sunday. How much further?”

“Farther,” Skylar said. “Miss Shannon done told us that farther means how far away and further’s like, I own’t know, for ideas.”

“Did she? That your teacher, this Miss Shannon? She the blonde that ole Mrs. Marti back there,” Caleb jerked his right thumb over his shoulder toward the rear of the van, “was giving a tongue lashing to at the end a school today? She looked real young to be a teacher. She teach you about watching your tongue at all, cuz that’s twice you been disrespectful in like two seconds.”

“How’d you know about that?”

“Oh, girl! I got’s ways a knowing things you would not believe. So, where’d you say your mama works?”

“At the Walmart.”

“She usually leave you alone at night?”

“No! And she didn’t! She let me spend the night at Sara’s.”

“You are gonna have to learn to watch your tone. Where’s this McNutt’s?”

“Keep going. It’s the last house on the right.”

Vanishing Point: Seventy-one of 101

Tags

"ATTENTION: WARNING! Grossly coarse language- sexual violence", Abduction, Caleb Ezra Morse, Florida, Marti Kohnen, Sara Kohnen, Skylar Kisor, Trinity Florida

WARNING! Grossly coarse language- sexual violence.

PART SEVENTY-ONE

Caleb pointed at his daughter before slamming the van’s front door. “Stay put!” he commanded from the van’s open rear door.

Still stunned from her violent fall and reaffirming thrust into the van’s cargo area, Marti began to move unsteadily from her supine, submissive position to one where she could protect herself. Caleb smiled when he saw her move, thrust a Doc Martin shod foot into her side, and demanded, “And what the hell do you think you’re doing, bitch?” as he reached beyond her for his scuffed and worn daypack.

“Otta have everything I need right here,” he said, dumping the pack’s contents on the floor of the van. The Nikon binoculars and Peterson Field Guide fell to the floor along with a blue nylon tarp, serrated edge hunting knife, a black nylon case for the knife, Ziploc bag with dryer lint, a squeeze tube of Vaseline, first aid kit, white Bic lighter, roll of duct-tape, twenty feet of nylon rope, a small, round, stainless steel ashtray, two MRE’s, a vial of iodine pills, water purifier and a dozen large zip-ties. Grabbing the duct-tape, Caleb jammed his knee into the small of Marti’s back and handcuffed her with the tape before wrapping her ankles in the same fashion and using the rope to hog-tie her hands and feet behind her back.

Rolling her to her side, Caleb brought his mouth next to her ear and whispered, “Who the fuck you think I am now, you little AMF? I got a kosher wiener with your name on it, Circle-K. You just wait,” he added, duct tapping her mouth shut before biting her earlobe hard.

Caleb rolled the van door shut and, after peering into the dark recesses of the bus depot, walked around to the driver’s side of the van and got behind the wheel. “Listen, baby,” he said to Skylar, turning the van on and backing out of the depot’s parking lot and heading east on Interlachen, “I’m right sorry about flinging you to the ground back there. Goldie here,” Caleb jerked his thumb toward the back of the van, “had me firing on all eight cylinders and when you slipped in under my radar my survival instincts kicked in. Buckle your seat belt,” he added. “Don’t want no trouble with no cops.

“I really am right sorry. I’m also right sorry you sent Goldie’s little girl away. That makes things a lot more difficult for us, but I don’t blame you, I blame your mama. I’m sure she ain’t been bringing you up right.

“Speaking of your mama,” Caleb said, flicking the van’s headlights on, “where the hell would she be and why you hanging out with these Hebes?”

“I don’t know where Mama is,” Skylar said to the floor. With head down she continued, “that’s where we just were, at Mama and my place. And why do you keep calling Marti Goldie? That’s not her name.”

“Marti?” Caleb scoffed. “Course she’d have something weird like a boy’s name. And whyn’t you call her Mrs. Epstein or Goldberg or whatever the little Jewess’ name is? Is that how your mama’s been bringing you up? To be disrespectful?”

“Her name’s Kohnen, not Goldberg or whatever you said. Marti said I could,” Skylar answered, eyes still averted. Looking up, she turned toward her father and asked, “Why did you hurt her and why did you hurt my friend Sara?”

“Kohnen, huh? That another Jew name?” Caleb asked, turning his head toward the back of the van. Returning his gaze to the road he declared, “Sarah sure as shit is. You gotta little Isaac, too?” he asked, again glancing over his right shoulder.

“Because little Miss Marti pants was threatening me, that’s why! And she was gonna take you away after I just found you again. What you want me to do? Just let her take you? No, sir!

“Your friend Sarah is trouble, girl. I truly wish you hadn’t told her to run cuz now I gotta figure out what to do next.

“Wait. Did you say you just come from yer mama’s place? By bicycle? So, it’s pretty close, I reckon?”

“Yes. I rode there for the first time! On Sara’s bike. You need to let Marti go and find Sara and take their bikes home. I bet she won’t yell at you anymore now.”

Caleb nodded and said, “I bet you’re right. But first, why own’t you show me where you and your mama live?”

Vanishing Point: Seventy of 101

Tags

"ATTENTION: WARNING! Grossly coarse language and violence", Anger, Caleb Ezra Morse, Florida, Marti Kohnen, Pain, Sara Kohnen, Skylar Kisor, Trinity Florida

WARNING! Grossly coarse language and violence

PART SEVENTY

Caleb’s elation at finding his dead daughter alive and in his arms didn’t last long.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa there, cowboy!” Marti declared agitatedly. “Put the girl down and just step back!”

“Why own’t you shut the fuck-up?” Caleb replied, vehemence and venom erupting from him in response to Marti’s harsh command.

“Pardon me?!” Marti said with nearly equal vitriol. “I don’t know who the hell you are or who the hell you think you are, but Karla left Skylar in my care so when you two start talking about finding each other alive I need you to back off some. Got it! Now put her down, and step back!”

“You don’t know who I am?!” Caleb said, placing Skylar on the ground and striding forward to Marti who stood straddling her bike. “Well, let me tell you who I am. I am Skylar’s father and Karla’s husband and I’m about to become your worst fucking nightmare unless you start giving me my due respect!”

“Okay! That’s it! Girls, we’re going,” Marti yelled, pulling her phone from her bag. “And unless you get the hell out of here right now, I’m calling the cops.”

Caleb’s head jerked back, and he laughed uproariously. “Are you now?” he asked mockingly. “Well that’ll be kind of hard,” he continued, batting Marti’s phone out of her hand, “now won’t it, kike!?”

Marti’s anger told her to attack but the bicycle between her legs prevented her from taking action. She sputtered three times before beginning to step off the bike. When she began to do so Caleb merely spun on the ball of his foot and shoulder checked her, sending Marti sprawling to the ground. “Try calling the cops from down there, bitch. Now tell me, where’s my wife?!”

Taken by surprise, tangled in the bike, and with the wind knocked out of her Marti was unable to respond. Skylar, in response to her father’s unprovoked violence rushed in and flung herself against her father, screaming, “No, Daddy! No! Don’t hurt her!”

Caleb pushed his daughter back and swept her legs, sending her to the ground in a sprawling heap, his face turning from havoc filled anger to remorse the moment he touched Skylar. “Shit! I’m sorry, baby! Stay back! This is between me and Goldie. What chew got to say, Jew-Jew-bee? What chew got to say?!”

Sara ran to Caleb and kicked him hard in the shins. “Leave my mother alone!” she screamed.

Caleb laughed, grabbed Sara by the hair and flung her against the fence before picking Marti up from the ground, punching her hard on the jaw and throwing her into the open van. “Come on, Skylar,” he commanded, striding toward the fallen Sara, “We gotta go.”

“No! No!” Skylar screamed. “You leave my friend alone! Run, Sara! Run!”

Sara stood, unsure of what to do. Skylar repeated her command of, “Run! Run!” and Sara slipped between the bus depot’s gate and fence through a crack too small for Caleb to follow.

“Fuck shit!” he screamed after the disappearing girl. “Fuck shit!” he repeated as he grabbed his daughter by the arm and shoved her into the front seat of the van.

“I wish you stayed dead!” Skylar screamed at him. “I wish you’d stayed dead!”