“Mucho Gusto, Juanita.” As quickly as she appeared, she walked away. Over her shoulder she speaks once more to Marisol. “Ensenas a ella su cuarto.” (Show her to her room.)
I had known I would be dealing with Marisol more so than the doctor and his wife. My biggest challenge is going to be doing any kind of surveillance on them with so many people here in the house. It remains to be seen how effective I’ll be here. I am certain Cash has already done his homework on the black market baby ring. He has his reasons for having me here and part of me is glad he has chosen a relatively easy task for my first time on the job.
Cash
I make sure she is safely settled in and she isn’t even aware of my surveillance. I am already regretting my decision to have her stay at the doctor’s home but there is really no way around it. The only way she is going to be able to be my eyes and ears is to be in that house. No one is going to think anything of an American being there for language classes. It’s a good plan but I still miss having her in my arms.
The thought of cornering her in some alley and fucking her brains out when she least expects it brings a smile to my face. I settle in to read her journal. If I can’t have her, I’ll settle for the next best thing—her thoughts in the form of words.
Rhonda would get a job in a club and it never failed that the owner would fall in love with her. Beauty was the only thing that my Mother had given us and the only thing that she ever would. Until the day of her death, her life left a wake of destruction. She never gave back and everything that she touched, she ruined. Had it not been for the grace of God, she would have all but consumed me. In the end, she did consume my sister. Rhonda would never overcome the trauma that she had endured as a child and it would literally be the death of her.
From the time Rhonda woke up in the morning, until she passed out at night, she was drugged in one way or another. Nothing helped though. No matter how many drugs she did, nothing erased the pain of what my Mother had allowed to happen to her. The pedophile had left his mark and my Mother had ensured it scarred even deeper when she didn’t believe Rhonda. My sister had gone to her and told her what he was doing, expecting protection only to be turned away. It was the ultimate betrayal and Rhonda would never recover from it. She carried the pain of what had happened to her from the first time she suffered, as well as the second, third, fourth and so on.
Her thoughts jump around in a choppy mishmash and I know enough to deduce the entries are from different dates. I also know that, at the time Johnnie wrote these entries, her brain was more than likely a jumbled mass of confusion. It’s enough; I don’t need organization. I need to get in her psyche and the journal is enabling me to do so. I continue reading.
I could hear Bucky’s tirade in the bedroom as he screamed at his wife, smashing an ashtray against the wall and shattering it.
“What the hell do you mean she doesn’t want to turn a trick,” he screamed at his wife. “Where is the damn john?”
“He is in the bedroom, putting his clothes on to leave,” she answered him.
I was scared but I can have a sarcastic streak and I thought, ‘Well I guess I killed the mood.’ I knew I was in trouble with Bucky but I couldn’t do it. I just couldn’t bring myself to sleep with that man for money. I have always been an open book and faking it is not in my nature. The man had seen the disgust in my face and said, “You don’t want to do this. I can tell and you are no turn on for me.” Once again, my sarcastic nature and my big mouth had gotten me in trouble. “You are damn straight I don’t want to,” I said as I made my way out the door. Well, needless to say, that was when the proverbial shit hit the fan. I stood in the hallway and looked at the door, debating escape options as I listened to Bucky’s insulting tirade continue. ‘This is not good. Oh shit, this is not good,’ I thought. To this day, I still cannot tell you how I steered clear of an ass whipping that night, but I did. Little did I know I would pay the very next day.
We all went to work the next night as if nothing happened. It was when we got home that Bucky blindsided me.
“Sit down, Johnnie.” He motioned toward a chair at the dining room table. As soon as I sat down, the doorbell rang and Bucky’s wife went to answer it. A man walked in and seated himself at the table. He introduced himself as the bail bondsman that Bucky had used to get me out of jail when a raid hit one of the bars where we worked. Yes, you heard me right. I had been locked up at 13 years old. I used Rhonda’s old license as ID to get out of jail but in Bucky’s eyes, he had paid for it. I don’t quite see things the way that others do at times and I am very quick to let them know.