If you don't marry your in-laws, and the marriage doesn't work out, do you not divorce them either? I don't know what the hell I'm talking about. Church and Shawn have to see Zeke in this chapter. Let's see how that goes.
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Crown Vic to a Parallel World: From Whence I Came The second installment of the ongoing adventures of Church Philips
30
The S&M Monster
It was a little after six when Shawn and I went through the front door of the house. No one was home. In the kitchen, in the middle of the counter, I found a handwritten note from Joe. The first half of it, written in Joe's neat cursive, read, Church, tried to tell you this morning but you wouldn't listen. I took everyone out to dinner at Vito Italiano. You and Shawn will have to deal with Zeke. The receipt he needs to sign is clipped to this note.' The second half of the note was written in block capital letters and read, SHAWN, YOU MUST KEEP HIM FROM DOING ANYTHING IRRESPONSIBLE! I'M COUNTING ON YOU!'
"Prick doesn't trust me at all." I complained to the piece of yellow legal paper.
"Well..." Shawn teased with a deep shrug.
"Yeah, you're right. I'll scare us up some dinner, then we can head over and get this finished." I said as I opened the fridge.
We had a quick meal of leftovers and drove to Zeke's for what I hoped would be the last time.
The house was dark when we pulled up. I was in the middle of cursing Zeke for not being there when I saw an upper floor curtain move. Zeke was home. It seemed that he was doing his version of stealth. "He must not be home." I said loudly and hoped my voice would carry to my unhinged brother-in-law through the open car window. "Let's come back in an hour or two."
I drove the car around the corner, killed the lights, and coasted to a stop near where I'd parked when I came to check on Mary with Bem. I waited there and watched the house. I tried to reason out what Zeke's game could be. Joe had told him to expect us to return with a check...a check I thought that he wanted. For some reason, Zeke was pretending that he wasn't home, but I couldn't figure out why.
I thought about the last time I'd visited the man and remembered him sounding off about who he didn't want to see again. His list had included me. I drew a line of logic between that statement and the dark house. When I thought a little more, I remembered Zeke's complaint about his bookie. I wondered if Zeke was already passed the deadline for getting his legs broken. `That would explain the gun the last time.' I reasoned. I further assumed that Zeke was waiting to see who showed up before he let it be known that he was home. I assumed the man was living in fear. That made me doubly glad I'd already gotten my sister and her kids away from the house.
Well,' I thought, whether he's afraid of me or the bookie, he's already seen me, so he won't want to let me in, so I guess we'll have to let ourselves in.'
I was angry at the added complication, but I tried to keep my temper under control. I tried to think of the best way to approach the house. I wasn't sure if a direct assault on the front door made sense, or if a stealth approach through the back or maybe through a window would be better. I racked my brain in an attempt to apply logic to my brother-in-law's actions. I realized that logic and Zeke were not good friends and gave up on my attempt. I decided to develop my own line of logic. `I have a check. Zeke demanded a check for his signature. I am going to deliver a check and exact a signature. End of fucking story.'
I improvised a plan and put it into action. I decided to approach the house carefully. Shawn and I snuck through the side yard and moved toward the deck. I tried to be extra cautious because Zeke made me nervous. Even without my magic, I could handle him physically, and Shawn could fix a lot of injuries, but neither of those things was foolproof. I'd already vaporized Zeke's handgun, but I didn't know if he had any other weapons. I was concerned because, even with Shawn's healing touch, something like a shotgun blast could still be a problem.
Shawn and I climbed the steps in a crouch and crossed the deck. When we got near the doors, I waved Shawn to keep against the house wall while I tried the deck door. I turned the knob and found that the door was unlocked. I assumed that was either the oversight of a moron, or part of a trap worked out by that same moron. `I wonder if he's trying to funnel us into the kitchen.' I thought.
As I didn't want to stroll right into a trap, I joined Shawn against the wall and eased the door open with a gentle push of magic. I waited with the door fully open, but nothing happened. The lack of response from inside the house was more alarming than if something had happened. I had a mental image of my idiot brother-in-law waiting for us to make the first move while we waited for him. I decided that I wasn't going to walk into that kitchen until I knew what awaited me, so I looked around for an object to send in first.
My eyes landed on a stunted pot-plant hanging from an iron shepherd's crook in the yard. I lifted it from its hook with my telekinetic magic and floated it up to the open door. I accelerated it into the room. It crashed against the far wall of the kitchen and the plant's clay pot shattered and fell to the floor. The kitchen lights went on and Zeke screamed gospel at the damaged plant.
When I was certain that Zeke was distracted with the plant, and that no physical threat awaited me, I marched into the house with Shawn following at my heels. "What the hell are you doing?" I demanded of my brother-in-law who was still yelling at what was left of the plant.
Zeke whirled on me. He sprayed me with a stream of clear liquid from a plastic squirt bottle, like I was a misbehaving house cat. I hoped the liquid was holy water and not urine or acid or lighter fluid. Zeke's other hand waved a silver cross around. "DEVIL! LEAVE THIS RIGHTEOUS HOUSEHOLD!" He dropped the squirt bottle to the floor and struggled in his pants pocket. He dug out a small white ball and threw it at me. It bounced off my chest and hit the ground. I picked it up with magic to see what it was. It was a single head of garlic.
I shook my head at the white fruit (or maybe garlic is a vegetable). Zeke's incompetence was staggering. I again found myself wondering how he'd landed Mary. I further wondered if he'd planned to use the same attack to banish the bookie and his leg breaker or if the holy water, garlic, and silver cross routine was reserved only for me.
"Hey, lunatic," I addressed Zeke and his insanity, "we're not vampires...and...and even if we were, this is the LAMEST attack I've ever seen. You only bought one garlic bulb? Haven't you ever seen a vampire movie, EVER? They plan things better in an episode of `Scooby Doo' than this sad demonstration. Thank your lucky stars I'm not a blood sucker."
I waved the check and receipt at Zeke. "We brought your ransom money and a receipt for you to sign. Just sign it so we can leave you to your weird fantasies."
Zeke's eyes narrowed and grew suspicious...suspicious eyes in a narrow, scheming face. "If you're not a devil, what are you?"
I clamped the paperwork under my arm so I could rub my face with both hands. I suddenly felt very tired. I was tired of fighting with everyone to get them to do what was best for them. All Zeke had to do was write his name and get a fat payday, but noooooo...that was too fucking much to ask. I took a breath and tried the direct approach that had served me so well with everyone else. I returned the check and the receipt to my hand, added a pen to that same hand, and offered everything to Zeke. "I'm just a man, you idiot, not very different from you. Sign the form please."
For a split second, Zeke seemed like he'd be reasonable. He actually reached for the papers I offered, but his hand shot right passed, into the air. He waved his arms frantically above his head as he shouted. "NO! I'll never sign! If you're just a man, you must have got your powers from somewhere. I want them. Give me strength. I WANT POWER!"
I blew up. I couldn't help it. I was unable to contain my rage at the mad display, or the display of madness. "JESUS FUCKING CHRIST! YOU ARE COMPLETELY INSANE! Just sign the god-damned form, take the god-damned money, and let us get the fuck away from you!" I shouted to vent some of the rising frustration that was building up inside me. For all the good it did, I could have been shouting at a statue.
Zeke's self-righteous anger grew to epic proportions. He screamed towering rage, fire and brimstone. His pasty face turned purple from the strain. "NO, BLASPHEMER, SINNER! YOU TAKE THE LORD'S NAME IN VAIN! YOU ARE UNNATURAL, PERVERTED, DEVIENT! YOU'RE A MONSTER! BOTH OF YOU ARE MONSTERS! GIVE ME YOUR POWER OR I WILL SEE YOU AND YOUR FAMILY EXPOSED AND DESTROYED!"
Something about the visual of Zeke losing his mind served to calm me. In no way was I going to lower myself to the point of screaming back at a maniac. I shrugged and resigned myself to doing whatever it took to get the outcome I wanted. "The hard way it is." I said to no one.
I enveloped Zeke in my magic and lifted him a few inches off the floor to keep him contained while I thought about the right next step. I glanced at Shawn, who shook his head. He had no suggestions. I considered banging Zeke's head on the popcorn ceiling until he agreed to do what I wanted, but I decided to see if threats of violence would serve in the place of actual violence. I floated Zeke in front of me, his face inches from mine, and stared into his crazy eyes. I spoke to him in a low, even voice, so I seemed in control.
"You won't sign. Is that what you're saying?" I asked to clarify my brother-in-law's position. "You want more than this check, even after you agreed and accepted the note from Joe. Instead of just money, now you want money and power. Is that the way it is?"
Zeke pretended that he was calm despite the fact that he was helplessly cocooned in my magic. His wild eyes would have been enough to expose his fear, but beside that, I could also feel that he was shivering like a chihuahua on a cold day. I was mildly impressed that he kept his voice even when he spoke. He even managed a defiant nod. "Yes, I want your power."
I moved to stand next to the floating man. I draped my arm over his shoulders like we were old friends. We faced Shawn and I reintroduced the men. "Zeke, have you met my husband, Shawn?" I gestured at him. Shawn didn't understand what I was doing, but he didn't interrupt.
"Shawn and I had a very nice day together." I went on in my buddy voice. "I don't want to ruin the pleasant mood I'm in by having to show you your own insides. I'll do it if you force me to. You don't hold the cards, my friend. I hold them. Shawn can heal people. That's his special talent. He's the one that fixed you after my friend Bem beat you bloody. Shawn and I are two sides of a coin, opposites. He is a healer, and I am a destroyer."
I turned my floating brother-in-law to face me and put a hand on each of his shoulders. "Can you comprehend the implications of a partnership like that?" I asked directly to Zeke's face. "I could beat you over and over, break your bones, burn your flesh, emasculate you. I could take the carving knife you tried to stab my friend with and peel every inch of skin from your repulsive body. How does that sound?" I asked and gave Zeke a moment to consider it.
"You wouldn't die." I reassured him. "Shawn would keep fixing you up. Then, we would start again, from the beginning. I could torture you for weeks, months maybe. Even if you begged to sign this receipt after the first beating, I wouldn't stop until I'd had enough. Do you understand? No one would ever know what I did to you. When I had my fill, Shawn would remove the traces. You would never prove anything. The only evidence of the torture you endured, would be your nightmares."
I tried to read Zeke's reaction to my threats, but I couldn't. His face seemed frozen. Whether it was frozen by fear or frozen by defiance, I couldn't tell. "I will ask you just once more. If you refuse, let the devastating brutality you're about to endure, be on your own head. Will you accept this check, and sign this receipt?"
I set Zeke down, released the magic, then stepped back. I held the pen and papers out. Zeke hesitated, so I added some more inducement. "One more thing to consider, Zeke, the torture I just described does not include the sexual depravity that I," I shot a hopeful glance at Shawn, "that WE will subject you to between beatings. I refuse to describe that. It's much more enjoyable when it's a surprise."
I twisted my face into the worst leer I could manage and followed a glance at my husband with a leading question. "Isn't it, Love?" I hoped against hope that Shawn would at least nod in agreement. What he did was so much better.
"You're saying too much, Church." Shawn whined. He gripped his crotch and rolled his hips in an exaggerated, thrusting motion. "I kind of want him to refuse. He looks STURDY."
If I hadn't been trying to sell a lie, I would've fallen on the ground in hysterical laughter at the sight of Shawn pretending to be a sexual predator. My husband's performance worked though. As soon as Shawn finished his ludicrous crotch grab and hip roll; the check, receipt, and pen disappeared from my grasp. Zeke signed and returned the receipt and pen to my hands.
I was thrilled to be done with the strange little man. "Thank you, Zeke." I carefully folded and pocketed the signed document. "As much as I'm sure Shawn is disappointed to miss out on the blood orgy, I'm glad we can close this matter without resorting to extreme methods." I turned toward the deck door and Shawn fell in step beside me.
I wrapped my arm around him as we walked. "Come on, Lover. Let's go home. I know you wanted this one, but as a consolation, I'll let you cut all my fingers off again as long as you promise to put them back in the right places this time."
Shawn shoved an eager hand into my back pocket, the one over my still-stinging ass cheek, and added some enthusiastic bounce to his step as he asked, "toes to?"
I hugged him against me. "You know I can't say no to you. Toes to."
I looked into the glass of the deck door that Shawn and I were approaching to see Zeke's expression as reflected by the glass. His face was a mask of horror. He had no way of knowing if we were serious or not and I guessed that he feared we were. I made sure to imprint the view on my memory. It was a face I would savor.
It was all that Shawn and I could do to hold our laughter inside until we got in the car. "I almost believed you in there." I snickered as I pulled the door shut.
"ME?" Shawn gasped through his own snickers. "What about you? How did you come up with some of that stuff? If I didn't know you, I would have believed every word you said."
I laughed at Shawn's part in what had happened. "When you grabbed your package and whined at me, holy shit! I almost lost it. That was genius. Then when you asked if you could cut my toes off...it's a good thing we were leaving, or I would've broken on that one. You're good enough to be an actor in some creepy B-movie horror film."
Shawn rolled his eyes at me and chuckled. "I think between the two of us, you're far scarier."
"I'm serious." I said and warmed to my topic. "When we get back home, I'll get a camera. We can dress you in black leather chaps, a red studded jock, black gauntleted gloves, and a hood with only one eye hole and a zipper mouth. We'll call it, `Rise and Attack of the S&M Monster.' You'll play the monster and I'll be the young innocent whose virtue you savagely destroy."
Shawn shook his head at me as I started the car. "It makes me nervous that you came up with all that so quickly. I think you might need some counseling to work out your bizarre desires. Oh, and who would believe you as a young innocent?"
"Alright, smart guy," I mocked, "I'll play the middle-aged innocent."
Shawn burst out laughing. His ringing merriment was exactly the pressure release that I needed as we drove away from that difficult scene.
"Are we going to Joe's?" I asked when we had driven a few blocks in no particular direction. "It's quarter to eight, what do you think?"
"We probably should head back." Shawn reasoned with what sounded like reluctance. "It's been a long day. We don't have to get all social with everyone. We'll go in, hand over the receipt, and go to bed."
"That plan is a winner." I said and pointed the car toward my brother's house.
We arrived a few minutes later. The house was lit up, and everyone was home. I braced myself and started up the walk. Shawn grabbed my hand and halted my progress. "Church, let's chat a second." Shawn's emotions were apprehensive and that worried me. I tried to sound like I wasn't worried when I asked, "What's up?"
Shawn paused and his silence drew out while he seemed to argue with himself about what he wanted to say. Whatever part of him won the argument spoke up. "I know that we just talked about getting you help today, and I know that most of what haunts you started in this house, but...you know what, never mind."
The way Shawn had started talking and then shut down worried me even more than where I thought his words had been headed. I pressed him to continue. "Just tell me."
Shawn thought for another moment, his emotions a chaotic mix of worry and apprehension. Resolve replaced the chaos, and he added his other hand to the one I was still holding. "Church, I know what was done to you in this house. I've seen it...I've been seeing flashes of it since we got here. I didn't need Joe to tell me about it. What I'd hoped to gain from him was context, but I don't need that to understand why you're hurting. I also think I know what the church did to you and how that added to your pain. I'm trying to say that I understand where it started and what happened."
"OK." I wondered where Shawn was headed with his monologue.
"My point is...your parents are dead. They can't hurt you. The old priest isn't around anymore. He's probably dead as well. He can't hurt you. The only thing that can hurt you is your memories. I know that memories can be scarier than any real threat, but I want you to try to...try to be here with me. Try to be in the moment with me. Try to avoid remembering all the hurt you suffered here."
I started to talk but Shawn shushed me. "I know that's not possible." He went on. "I know that. I couldn't go back into my father's house without feeling like a sad little kid again. Our situation is that we're stuck here for another week. For that week, I want you to try to avoid putting your guard up every time you walk into that house. Try not to lump your family, your brother and sister and Andy and Hannah and Leah, in with your parents. It's not fair to them. It's not fair to the living people to treat them with the same fear as the dead ones. Do you think you can work on that with me?"
I averted my eyes away from Shawn and put them back on the Town Car that was parked in the street. I was ashamed of myself again. I hated that my emotional turmoil spilled over onto Shawn. I hated being needy and I hated hurting the person I cared about the most. I hated that I didn't know how to change it.
"I'm sorry, Shawn. This house...it's always gotten to me. I've never felt good here. From the time I was a kid, I spent as much time as I could anywhere that wasn't here. It wasn't easy finding a place to go because I didn't know how to make friends. No matter what I did to hide from it, I always ended up right here, standing on this sidewalk staring at the front door and steeling myself for whatever fresh hell was inside. I don't know that I'll ever be able to look at this house and not feel anxiety."
"Hey," Shawn whispered to make me look his way, "remember what I said, just focus on me. We're here together. You don't have to face it alone."
I squeezed his hand. "You're right. I could be happy in hell as long as you're with me. Just don't let go of my hand."
Shawn squeezed my hand tightly in response to my plea. He and I walked into the house, side by side, holding hands. I waved the receipt at the dining room table where the adults and Andy were gathered. Hannah and Leah were playing in the family room. "Got it." I bragged with my false swagger firmly in place.
Mary got up and hugged us both. She even kissed Shawn on the cheek. Joe, ever the cynic, had to ask questions. "What did you have to do for it?"
I knew my brother was just being himself. I knew he couldn't help it, but his constant nagging questions still aggravated me to the point of needing to fuck with him. I decided to give him some honesty and a side dish of bullshit. I sat on the arm of the living room couch, facing the dining room, and told a tale that I made up as I went.
"When we got there, Zeke attacked me with a silver cross, holy water, and one garlic bulb, then he refused to sign. I brought him outside and sent him into the atmosphere." Joe started to splutter angry objections to my story. I held up my hand for silence so I could explain myself. "Only up to five thousand feet. A four-thousand-foot free fall and another thousand-foot deceleration convinced him not to make any more demands."
Joe was a study. He looked back-and-forth between Shawn and me like he was waiting for a punch line. When one wasn't forthcoming, he started in on Shawn. "I thought you were the reasonable one. Why didn't you stop him? What if the neighbors saw? What if he had a heart attack on the way down? What if Church miscalculated and dropped him?"
Shawn surprised me because he's usually so sincere. This time he was the first to laugh at Joe's reaction to my teasing. "That's too many `what ifs' for me." Shawn admitted through a grin. "It's a good thing that story is mostly a fabrication. The vampire attack is true. The flight and free fall is not. Zeke did refuse to sign at first. He demanded we give him magic powers. Church threatened him with physical violence. It wasn't until I threatened to rape him that he signed the form."
Joe was incredulous. "YOU...you threatened to...RAPE...Ezekiel? And he believed you?"
I burst out laughing at the memory. All eyes turned to me and my hysterics. I moved to the edge of the table to explain. "I calmly outlined a torture regimen that would have taken weeks and weeks to complete. Zeke wasn't scared of that. Shawn grabbed his crotch and thrust his hips in the air. Zeke signed pretty quick after that. I almost pissed myself!"
Shawn reenacted his leer and hip rolling crotch grab for the benefit of all present. Mary's shrill laughter filled the room in competition with Bem's, Andy's, and my own raucous barks. Shawn repeated the motion. He stuck his tongue out and added some over-the-top thrusting until he couldn't keep his amusement inside anymore. He lost control and his ringing laugh filled the room.
Joe remained stone-faced through most of our merriment, but even he couldn't keep swimming against the current. He broke and howled with the rest of us. We settled down after a while, but the laugh was one of those that would die down and then bubble up again in someone. That laugh would become contagious and catch a few others until it went through the group and settled down again.
Joe shook his head and wiped his eyes. "That's a new negotiating technique. I'll have to try that the next time someone stonewalls me. Do you grab your package first, or do you start with the leer, or both at once?" Joe asked like he wanted to receive instruction in a genuine procedure.
Shawn provided guidance in his clinical tone. "Always start with the leer, it momentarily distracts them from noticing where your hand went. When they realize, the impact is greater, more disturbing." Joe chuckled again. "Shawn, I'm glad it worked but that display proves this one is rubbing off on you." My brother indicated me with a jerk of his chin.
"I can't think of a better compliment." Shawn said and wrapped his arm around my waist. "Good night, everyone, we've had a long day and it's time for bed."
Shawn led me upstairs and into our room. I sat on the bed to take my shoes off but looked up when I caught some movement in my peripheral vision. Shawn was doing his stylized thrusting, hip rolling, tongue out, crotch grab in the dresser mirror. I roared with laughter and tossed a pillow at his back. "If you don't stop doing that, I'm gonna think you were serious earlier!"
He turned the lewd gesture toward me and kept at it. I threw another pillow. "Stop it, creeper!" I yelled. He burst out laughing and stopped. The leer returned a few times when his laughter subsided enough for him to control his expression. I laughed accordingly.
I laid back across the bed. Shawn came to lay beside me and pulled my arm behind him to use as a head rest. "Thank you for today." I said to the quiet calm at the end of the evening. "It helped. You're right, as always. It will be fine. Mary and Bem seem happy. If it lasts, perfect, if it doesn't, at least they had each other when they each needed someone the most. Andy seems happier than he was when we arrived. His father isn't going to die and he's not hiding anymore. Even Joe is loosening up. The simple fact that he trusted us to get that receipt signed displays a level of confidence he rarely has in anyone. This one time, it might all work out. And if Joe refuses to come, I'll hogtie him and he'll ride back in the trunk."
Shawn rolled on his side to face me. "Let's hope it doesn't come to that." He draped an arm over my torso and used his fine fingers to trace my muscles through my shirt.
"That feels nice." I sighed. "But you better stop or you're gonna start something. Unless that's your intention."
Shawn rolled again. He threw a leg over me and came to rest sitting on my stomach. Now that he had both hands available, he worked on unbuttoning my shirt. "Didn't we do this for like three and a half hours this morning?" I asked.
Shawn nodded up and down and finished with an up from under look. "Oh God." I whispered and reached for him. He pushed my arms down on the bed.
"You don't touch me unless I give you permission." He ordered sternly. "Do you understand?" "Yes." I squeaked as an electric thrill shot through my body.
"YES WHAT?" He demanded.
"YES SIR!" I answered immediately. Shawn's little bit of aggression had me boiling like the marathon that morning never happened. I needed Shawn, and he was going to make me beg for it. When he played this role, he was as controlled and calculating as Bem. He'd taken a game I'd started early in our relationship, when I told him to take what he wanted from me, and he refined into an artform.
He touched, teased, caressed, gave orders, and applied punishments like a professional. I knew he was going to push me right to the ragged edge and keep me there, burning, trembling, pleading, but without any hope of release. I LOVED when he did that.
I don't know what time it was when he finally pushed me over the edge from aching need to shattering climax. Fireworks exploded in my body, electric fire traced and vibrated every nerve like a plucked harp string. Hours had gone by. I had jealously watched Shawn finish multiple times while he continued to deny me.
We never used restraints for those sessions, so it would have been easy for me to get the last millimeter on my own, but that would have broken the spell and ruined the experience. The joy was in submitting without the need for props, in trusting each other enough to remain in character and live the fantasy.
When my body finally stopped thrashing and my breathing was almost normal, Shawn laid his head on my chest, and rested one hand on my stomach. "Was it OK?" He asked.
An aftershock sent a small tremor through me before I could answer. "When we get back, I plan to build a public shrine to this experience." I whispered.
I felt Shawn's face change against my chest and pictured his broad satisfied smile as he reveled in a job well done. "I'm glad you liked it. I had fun to." He moved next to me and pulled my arm behind him like he had earlier; like he had the first time we laid together. As soon as he settled, I was asleep.