Transformations: Latigo Key Ch. 02

By Wayne and Ann Triskelion

Comments welcome!

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The East Village, New York City

Two Nights Earlier, June 3, 1989

"Mother Superior, are you sure this is where you want to go?" The Church Agent asked from the front passenger seat of the Town Car.

Hecate stared out the window at the bustling Saturday nightlife. There was a crowd here in this rundown area of the village. The building looming above the Town Car looked like a warehouse. The windows were dark.

And, yet, the crowd was lined up around the corner to get in. Two bouncers stood at the door holding back the would be revelers.

"This is it. Where else would the queen bitch hold court?" Hecate whispered.

The Town Car slowed to a stop in front of the entrance and Hecate opened her door.

The Church Agent in the passenger side front opened his as well.

"No," Hecate said. "I go alone."

"Mother Superior, I strongly advise..."

She waved her hand, dismissing him before stepping out.

People turned and stared.

She smiled. Where else could a nearly seven foot tall woman in black latex and stilettos wearing a latex nun's habit and sunglasses not seem out of place?

There had been so many changes in her over the last five years.

Some had been painful.

She stepped past the crowd, and no one said a word to her, they simply stared.

The bouncers looked her up and down.

"Oh, fuck yeah," one of them said and opened the velvet rope for her.

The inside of the club was a swirling sea of humanity all standing nearly cheek to cheek. The $100,000 Bar nightclub was a fire chief's nightmare come to life with a thrumming backbeat.

"Please, Mama, save my fucking soul," a tall man said as he looked up at her with eyes dulled by drugs.

She smiled sideways at him. "Sweet child, if you only knew the irony of that request." She ran a long red nail down his cheek before tapping his forehead between his eyes and sending him sprawling backward into the crowd.

Hecate turned away and scanned the interior.

The building had indeed been a warehouse - there was a large office suspended twenty feet above the floor on steel pillars with a wide wooden staircase leading up to it.

"The high ground? Yes, most likely," Hecate whispered to herself.

She maneuvered through the crowd and climbed the stairs.

Two half-naked bodybuilders stood at the door to the office - one a man and the other, upon closer scrutiny, a woman. They opened the door as Hecate approached.

"Mmm, yes, my loves. Just like that. You suck clit so beautifully for a girl who's never done it before," a woman's voice breathed. "And you, my pretty? Don't be shy, push your tongue right up my ass..."

Hecate stepped through a curtain and into the center of the room. Four king sized beds were pushed together in a two by two array.

Two blonds, one male, one female lounged between the long, muscular thighs of Mistress Maria Anastasia Marapova di Morpheus.

Maria raised her head up from her pillow and smiled as she stroked the honey blond hair of her lovers. "Mother Superior Hecate, what a pleasant surprise. Can I get you something? I'm sure I can dig up a brunette or redhead for you somewhere."

"In five days, we begin operations in Florida. We requested Ambrosia and blood samples from you over a month ago."

The girl going down on Maria turned her head and stared at Hecate, her mouth coated in Maria's juices.

Maria tsk-tsk'd and turned the girl's head while guiding her back to her pussy. "Not for your innocent ears, my darling. Pay no attention to this cock-block... aren't nuns horrible wet blankets?" Maria smiled up at Hecate. "Gorgeous, aren't they? Amish on Rumspringa or whatever they call it. I really don't think the dears will be going back to the farm." She cocked her head sideways. "You know, I never noticed before, but they have such similar features... you don't suppose they're related, do you? I never asked... oh, well, too late now I suppose. Have you ever had Amish? They're so organic..."

"You are vile," Hecate hissed.

"Don't take your nun's frustrations out on me."

"You have no regard for the will of Morpheus. You... fuck whores while we are beginning his greatest work. Doesn't it mean anything to you that we're creating more creatures like you?"

Maria scowled. "Not like me. You're creating sex toys." She stroked her lovers' cheeks. "I make toys all the time. But, that's why you want my DNA, isn't it? So, you can make more goddesses like me. Ask Morpheus for it... oh, you can't. He still won't talk to Sister, will he?"

Hecate took a deep breath. Maria was correct: their living god had not spoken to Sister or the Church for years. "He doesn't speak to you either."

"No, but then I haven't tried to speak to him since Studio 54 was a thing. I wanted Debbie Harry to become a White Witch but Morpheus refused. After that, I didn't even try to get Warhol transformed. I miss 54. Everything's Hip Hop and Rap nowadays. I preferred punk and disco."

"Are you even listening to me?!" Hecate spat. "Our greatest operation is beginning and you, pervert that you are, should be a part of it."

Maria pushed the blonds away and they immediately began to sixty-nine.

She stood up beside the bed.

Hecate looked up - even without heels the white haired Amazon was several inches taller and more muscular.

Maria brushed her short hair out of her eyes. "Pervert that I am, let me remind you that I am a 'di Morpheus' created by the living god himself, not the product of Sister's tit cream. You come here into my lair and begin giving me orders? I'll decorate this club with your guts and have your henchmen downstairs clean up the mess with their tongues."

Hecate stood her ground. "Do you think I want to be here? I am not giving you orders, I am asking for your help. We are saving the world, Mistress Maria. All of us. Together. I can make all manner of creatures save one: I cannot make a White Witch without help from the only one of her kind. Please... I am begging you."

Maria's hands rocketed out and Hecate winced, expecting a blow.

She cupped Hecate's face. "You are a brave little thing. I'll give you that. I wish I had found you before Sister. Things would be far different for you, I think."

Maria turned away. There was a bar in the corner.

She took a wine glass and inspected it. "Clean enough. Even Baal couldn't fuck this up... I suppose not, anyway." She held the rim of her glass against her turgid right nipple.

With her right hand, she massaged her breast.

Milky white Ambrosia squirted from her nipple into the glass till it was nearly full.

She set the glass back on the bar. "This do in remembrance of me," she whispered.

"What?" Hecate asked.

"Classical reference." She picked up a second wine glass in her right hand. She pressed her right thumb against the stem and broke it cleanly.

She kept the base and stem and tossed the rest in the trash can beside the bar.

Maria smiled as she drew the sharp glass stem across her left palm.

Then she let her blood stream into the cup of Ambrosia.

She walked back to the bed with the glass of bloody Ambrosia.

He held out her wounded hand to the blonds.

They began kissing and licking the wound as Maria softly laughed. "Perhaps you are right... I may be perverted."

She handed the glass to Hecate. "Enjoy... oh, you should sip some yourself. It might make you stronger."

Hecate shook her head in disgust.

Maria lay back on the bed and the blonds crawled up beside her, each taking one of her nipples in their mouth and nursing.

Maria smiled as she stroked their bodies. "It's a pity I can't make them like me just by feeding them. I would have converted half of New York by now." She closed her eyes. "Feel free to see yourself out, nun. Oh, and good luck doing the will of Morpheus in Florida. I'll be watching from here."

Hecate turned and left. She held her hand over the top of the wine glass so as not to spill.

***

Latigo Key

June 8, 1989

3:00 PM

Willy Wanker III stepped out into the warm Florida sun and slipped his aviator glasses over his eyes. He stretched his tall, lean body and smiled. Then he started running toward the marina.

People smiled as he passed, said hello. He knew them all - it was a small island and, at nineteen, he was the youngest person in the Latigo Key family.

"Willy? See if your dad has any snapper for me?" The woman who owned the local IGA yelled out from her shop door.

"Sure, Mrs. Collins," Willy called over his shoulder. He never slowed the pounding of his Keds on the sidewalk.

He danced around a couple of women and continued on. "'Scuse me, ladies."

He felt their eyes on his cutoff clad butt as he ran by. He recently realized he was getting appreciative looks from the women on Latigo Key - it was nice to be ogled.

He could relate to ogling.

Ogling often led to other things for him on Latigo Key.

"Yer a healthy boy, Willy. Come by it natural. You just remember to treat ladies with respect and keep your stares to a minimum," his dad, Wink, had told him. Words to live by.

He ran by the boarded up Latigo Key School. He had graduated last year, one of the two last students born on the island. Just him and Diana, and Diana had gone to Florida State that Fall, leaving him as the youngest on the island.

He missed her.

Nobody seemed to discuss the fact no children had been born on Latigo in nearly twenty years. It just wasn't something you talked about.

Nor did anyone talk about the fact no one moved to the island. All of the houses on Latigo were owned and lived in. No real estate changed hands.

He would have liked to have followed Diana to State last year - he had the grades and the ability.

But Willy had begged off starting college for a few years.

It disappointed his mother and father.

He didn't tell them the reason why: Willy suspected they didn't have the money. Fishing wasn't what it used to be. He would go to college, but it would be on his dime, not Wink and Margaret Wanker's.

Step one in his self-sufficiency plan was a job.

And now with his income from WLKY? He was on his way... okay, well, he was on his way at a snail's pace, but you had to start somewhere, right?

The sidewalk leading down to the marina was clear and Willy poured on the speed. It felt good with the sea breeze blowing across his face. Two years ago, he would have been winded by this point. No longer. He had put on thirty pounds of muscle, most of it in the last year. He could breathe better, and his stamina was insane.

What little fat he had disappeared.

And, somehow, when he ran? He felt like he could go even faster if he wanted. He had a crazy notion of jumping onto the roof of the tackle shop as he passed - a leap of twelve feet.

He laughed the notion off.

He couldn't do that! Could he?

On a whim he dove forward, did a handstand, and then did a somersault back onto his feet.

"The hell are you doing, boy?" His dad asked from the deck of Wink's Folly.

"I don't know. Just burning off some energy. Mrs. Collins wants snapper if you have any."

"I don't. I'll tell her on the way to the house.

"Well, that was some great acrobatics, Willy," Mrs. Greene said. Cathy Greene was sitting on the transom and her long legs looked amazing in her cutoffs.

Willy looked away quickly. Respect... but admire.

Mrs. Greene smiled. "I didn't know you were a gymnast."

"Neither did I," Willy laughed.

"Your old man is trying to sell me a grouper," Cathy said with a grin.

"Gross," Willy said.

"Boy, don't you have some records to play?" Wink said.

"All done for the day. And, they're CDs, Dad."

"If it's a disk and the player has a needle? It's a record."

"There's no needle..."

"Don't bullshit me, boy," Wink said. "Now, Cathy, what do you have against grouper? It's a good, healthy fish."

"It smells, it tastes funny, and it's ugly. I know you have a mahi in that tank, Wink."

Wink took off his cap and rubbed his hair back. "What makes you think there's a Mahi in the tank?"

Cathy squinted her eyes. "You're a lousy poker player, that's why. How much for the Mahi?"

"I'll give you the grouper for seven dollars."

"The Mahi, Wink," Cathy laughed.

"Mahi will run you twelve..."

Cathy looked at Willy.

Willy shook his head and smiled.

Cathy nodded and said, "Ten."

Wink glared at him. "Boy, whose side are you on?"

"Hers. You're ugly."

Wink laughed. "Ten dollars for the Mahi. Let me clean it for you." He opened the tank hatch and went to work. Then he looked over his shoulder. "And, thanks to you, smartass? We're having grouper tomorrow night."

Willy and Cathy laughed.

Cathy pulled a ten dollar bill from her purse.

Wink pulled the struggling Mahi Mahi out of the tank. He shook his head. "Give it to the loudmouth. Tutoring payment."

Cathy handed the bill to Willy.

"Thank you," Willy said.

"Jenny Larson still tutoring you?" Cathy asked.

"Yes, Ma'am. She's afraid I'll forget how to study before I start college..."

"In the Fall," Wink said as he worked on the fish. "When you start college in the Fall."

"Yes, sir," Willy said.

"How is Jenny?" Cathy asked.

Willy shrugged. "Sad. A lot."

Jenny Larson had been the island's only teacher and now that Willy and Diana had graduated, she was out of a job. She had also lost her husband in a fishing accident four years ago, leaving her all alone in the second biggest house on Latigo Key.

"I worry about her," Cathy said.

"She's island strong," Wink said as he wrapped the fish in brown paper. "We know how to weather the storm. Death nor hurricanes stand a chance against that."

Cathy nodded.

Island strong. Everybody said that on Latigo Key. It made Willy feel proud. This was home and everyone on the island was family even if not by blood.

This was the kind of place you stayed.

"Get her to come to The Pelican tonight, Willy," Cathy said.

Willy nodded. "I'll do my best."

***

Willy ran past Cathy as she walked up the dock toward town with her gym bag and the wrapped Mahi. She watched his muscular legs and buttocks as he ran.

Cathy bit her lip. Was it wrong to stare?

"You are going to hell, Cathy Greene," Deborah Foster whispered from behind her.

Cathy jumped and looked behind her. "Jesus, you scared me. Where did you come from?"

The tall blonde smiled and pointed back over her shoulder. "Afternoon ferry from Miami... you'd have noticed if you weren't staring at Latigo Key's perfect buns."

Cathy laughed and blushed. "Stop it."

"Honestly, he's young enough to be your son," Deborah said and tilted her head sideways.

"Young enough to be yours too, so why are you looking at him with those eagle eyes."

Deborah put her arm around Cathy's shoulders. "Cougar, dear. They call women like me cougars now." She made a growling noise and laughed. "He's safe, though. I'm still hoping Diana falls for him when she comes home for the summer."

Deborah was Diana's mother and, potentially, Willy's mother-in-law.

"When's she coming home?"

"Middle of next week. She passed all her exams. Don't know where she gets the brains. Must be from Philip."

At the mention of her ex's name, both women turned their head and mock spat on the dock.

"How is the asshole?" Cathy asked.

"Heard he has hemorrhoids."

"Really?"

"Don't know," Deborah said. "But I can dream, can't I?"

They both doubled over laughing. Philip Foster had cheated his way through half the women on Key West before leaving Latigo Key for good and making Deborah a single mother.

At least he cheated in Key West - even an animal knows not to shit where it eats.

"Pelican tonight?" Cathy asked.

"It's Thursday, isn't it?" Deborah said. "But I'll be late - I have an appointment with Dr. Balenger."

"Still not feeling well?"

Deborah shrugged. "Balenger says it's anxiety."

"Can't he give you something?"

"He won't. He says Prozac is not for 'his islanders'. He's convinced he can get me through it with 'behavioral therapy'. Honestly, though, it's driving me nuts. Everytime I hear a buzzing sound my heart starts racing."

Cathy stared at her. "A buzzing sound?"

"Yeah. Static on the TV or radio is the worst..."

"When fluorescent lights buzz?" Cathy whispered.

"Them too." Deborah smiled at her. "Hey, Cath, you okay? You look like you've seen a ghost."

"Deborah, earlier today..."

A horn blew.

A line of utility trucks were exiting the ferry and heading toward town.

"Utility trucks?" Cathy asked. The six vehicles had buckets at the end of mechanical lifts.

"I was wondering that too," Deborah said. "That has to be the most utility crews we've ever had on the island."

"CoM?" Cathy asked. Each truck was plain white with the letters 'CoM' stenciled in black on the side.

Deborah shook her head. "Beats me. Not Florida Power and not Ma Bell."

The trucks passed by the entrance to the dock.

A scruffy looking middle-aged man with blond hair and a beard smiled at Cathy. Then he turned his head to the side and stared at her ass. The man smiled and winked.

"Christ... did you see that?" Deborah hissed. "If that guy's tongue were long enough, he'd have licked your ass. Pervert."

Cathy hugged her tighter. "Maybe he was looking at you?"

"Yeah, well, he'd be like a chihuahua chasing Lamborghinis - he wouldn't be able to handle either of us." Deborah grinned. "Besides, ol' Dan would open up a can of that Marine whoop ass on his scrawny butt."

"Retired Marine," Cathy corrected.

"No such thing," Deborah said.

"Dan isn't like that. He's not jealous and he's certainly not violent."

"Bullshit," Deborah said. "He'd make a hand puppet out of that asshole's skull."

Cathy laughed out loud. "Jesus, Deborah! What has gotten into you?"

"Not enough, recently," Deborah whispered. "Which is probably why I have anxiety."

***

Cathy and Deborah walked together into town. The 'CoM' utility trucks drove along Main Street ahead of them and then fanned out, heading farther into the island.

The two women parted company at Dr. Balenger's office and Cathy continued through town heading for her house a quarter mile away. Not having a bridge connecting the island to the other Florida Keys had been both a blessing and a curse for Latigo Key.

The curse: they didn't have the big money Key West got from tourists.

The blessing: no tourists.

Everybody on Latigo Key knew everyone else. For the most part, they had grown up together. Occasionally someone would leave the island to live on the mainland. Even less often, someone would move to the island from the outside.

That was almost always because they married a native.

In her lifetime, Cathy could count on one hand the number of times someone had moved to the island just on a whim.

Dr. Balenger and his wife Constance had been one such couple, showing up back in the 70s to open a clinic on the island. Before they came, a rough child birth or appendicitis meant a trip to Key West via boat or ferry.

The Balengers were odd. Latigo Key natives expected that - everyone not from the island was odd.

Cathy's own husband was 'odd' as far as that was concerned. She had met Gunnery Sergeant Daniel Greene of the 1st Marine Division at Florida State during her senior year. He was a quiet man fresh from the fight in Viet Nam with a chest full of medals he kept in a locked box under his bed. One of them was a Purple Heart he had picked up when a Viet Cong sniper had parted his hair with a round.