Victims And Volunteers

"Her name's Kasie and she's retarded," Andrea chirped for the friendly woman.

"Aw, bless her heart!" the woman said. "But you sure are a pretty girl, yes you are!"

Julie listened as a recording announced that Mike's phone number was disconnected. She paused for a moment, and then dialed her own cell phone number. The same recording came on. She then dialed her mother's phone number.

"Mom?" she said, after her mother answered.

"What?" her mother spat into the phone. "I swear to God; if I had known it was you..."

"Mom, Mike left us stuck here; we're at the DeGarde Inn," Julie cut into her mother's tirade.

"And you can rot there for all I care," her mother snapped, slamming the phone down.

"Just one more; I promise," Julie said to the woman.

"Can they have suckers?" the woman asked, showing Julie the cellophane wrapped treats.

"Only if I can have a green one," Julie actually smiled.

"Yeah, green's my favorite too," the woman smiled and handed Andrea a purple one.

Kasie just clutched her orange sucker, not making any move to put the candy in her mouth.

"Here, sweetheart, you do like this," the woman said, sticking a green sucker into her own mouth.

"Yeah, Kasie, do like this," Andrea encouraged.

Kasie did not respond, just clutched the sucker in her small fist.

"Jack? Hey, it's me, Julie, Listen..." Julie said when her brother answered his cell phone.

"Thank you so much," Julie said to the woman after Jack agreed to come get her. "It all right if we wait here? My brother says he'll be here as soon as he gets off shift at eight."

"Sure Sweetheart. Y'all want some coffee? We got that big old urn right there," the woman said, pointing to the large metal coffee dispenser. "Just help yourself; probably out of sugar, but there's plenty of that Equal stuff; after a while can't tell the difference really."

"Thank you," Julie said.

"Sure. I just pour it out at the end of my shift anyway; why let it go to waste? And you look like you could use you some coffee," the woman said, and then turned on a megawatt smile for a guest that entered the lobby.

****

Jack complained non-stop about having to take time out of his day to come and taxi Julie and her two 'rug rats' around.

"You try calling Mike?" Jack asked.

"Yes Jack, I tried Jack; his phone's been disconnected Jack, I'm so sorry Jack that I'm such a bother to you Jack," Julie spat out.

She had a severe headache, was suffering from alcohol withdrawal, was hungry, and Kasie had never ceased struggling.

Andrea, as usual, was a well behaved child, but she was still a child, and had all the questions of a child, all the energy of a child, and got bored very easily.

The young woman behind the front desk had been very sweet, very helpful and had taken Andrea off of Julie's hands the two times Julie had to change Kasie's diaper.

Changing Kasie's diaper as soon as possible was paramount; Kasie would, if left alone long enough would dig into her diaper and play with her own feces.

"Let you out right here, give me that shitty attitude," Jack grumbled.

"Sign on the side of the car says 'Protect and Serve,' or is that just for people you aren't related to?" Julie grumbled back.

The house was dark; there was no sign of Mike or his car.

Julie herded Andrea into the house, put Kasie down, and started to fix the children their dinner. The sight of the two car seats leaning against the kitchen wall puzzled her.

She noticed, with some satisfaction, that Kasie no longer clutched the sticky sucker; it was probably stuck to Jack's upholstery.

Andrea fed herself and Kasie ate a few bites before refusing to open her mouth for any more food.

By the time their dinner was finished, Julie was too exhausted, so put both children into their beds without their baths.

She then searched through the pantry, kitchen cupboards, and refrigerator and discovered that there was no trace of alcohol anywhere. There were three cans of non-alcoholic beer in the refrigerator but Julie knew that drinking those would be an exercise in futility. The taste of the beer was nasty enough, but the taste would fuel a desire for more, for real alcohol.

She looked at the clock; it was most likely after nine thirty; Mike should be coming home soon. She assumed that he had dropped the kids off with her and returned to his job at the Bargain Bin.

"Would have been nice if you'd brought us home first, dick face," she hissed under her breath as she stomped to the bedroom they shared.

Even though she stunk from hours on a series of Greyhound buses, she simply lies down and fell asleep.

****

It was Andrea's shrieks that woke her up the next morning. Julie staggered into the small bedroom the two girls shared, yelled at Andrea for waking her up, noticed that Kasie was playing with her soiled diaper (the reason for Andrea's shrieks) and slapped the child's hands.

True to her nature, though, Kasie didn't cry, just grunted loudly and clutched her hands to herself to protect them.

Julie ran a shallow bath, got Kasie cleaned up, then staggered to the kitchen.

"Where in the hell is your daddy?" she asked Andrea, who seemed bound and determined to get underfoot.

"I don't know," Andrea shrugged.

Julie looked out the window but there was no sign of Mike's car.

The clock on the stove was unreliable, usually losing anywhere from ten to twenty minutes any time she or Mike would reset it, but as near as she could figure, it was just after seven o'clock in the morning. She fixed the girls their breakfast, ate a little (mostly what Kasie didn't eat) and waited.

At approximately nine o'clock, she called Sylvia, Mike's mother.

"What?" the woman hissed, her dislike overly apparent.

"Miss Sylvia, Mike there?" Julie asked, deeply puzzled at the venom she could hear in Sylvia Chamblee's voice.

"No and even if he was, I wouldn't tell you, you whore," the woman hissed and slammed the phone down.

Julie stared at the phone, shocked. She knew Mike's mother didn't like her, had never approved of Mike marrying her, but the woman had always been civil.

"Andrea, did Daddy say anything to you before y'all came to get me yesterday?" Julie asked.

"No ma'am," Andrea said, shaking her head no.

"You sure?" Julie pressed. "Did he say anything about Maw-maw being mad at Mommy?"

"No ma'am," Andrea said, practicing standing on one foot.

Julie went back into the bedroom and noticed that the closet door was open.

She peered in and noticed that the left side was empty.

She had the right side, along with most of the closet in the third bedroom. She needed more closet space; there were several different sizes represented in her clothes. There were the ones from before the birth of Andrea, then the few between Andrea and Kasie, then three years of clothing, each year slightly larger than the last. Of course, she could throw nothing out; she fully intended to get back into the smallest of the outfits; those from her high school glory days.

Mike had two drawers in the battered chest of drawers and the left side of the closet. And now, those were empty.

She noticed an envelope on top of the vanity, where his shaving cream and razor normally sat. She picked it up and looked at the logo for a medical center in New Orleans was in the upper left hand corner.

There were a few sheets of paper inside, looked like a computer printout, printed on the old continuous feed paper.

None of what she was looking at made much sense, but she did recognize that it was the results of three DNA tests.

"Just fucking great," she muttered weakly.

She had strongly doubted if Andrea was Mike's kid; she was pretty sure that Andrea had been conceived on a long, drunken weekend in Houston. She and a friend had gone to Houston to watch the New Orleans Saints play the Houston Texans and had managed to get into the same hotel that the New Orleans Saints were staying in.

She came back, thoroughly satiated from multiple partners, made up with Mike (she'd staged an argument so that she and Kaitlin Monroe could go on the weekend trip) and prayed he wouldn't notice how stretched out her pussy was.

Four months later, Mike married the now pregnant Julie, against his mother's wishes. For the first five months of their marriage, Julie held her breath, praying that the baby would be white; she had no idea how many people she had slept with, and wasn't sure that all of them had been white.

Kasie, she knew for certain was not Mike's child; she had been conceived by Joseph Marcoloni, for the brief time that Julie had worked at First Union Bank. It had been Joseph that had looped a thick gold chain around Julie's narrow waist. Julie proudly wore the chain and the attached gold heart pendant, daring Mike to ask where it came from.

But even Joseph had no choice but to fire Julie when she went on a prestigious bender that kept her out of the office for Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, and part of Thursday. When Julie did stagger in that Thursday morning, it was plainly obvious that she had been drinking that morning.

She now wore the heavy chain and heart around her neck; the chain unable to fit around her waist.

"Mommy, can you put on 'Little Mermaid' for us?" Andrea asked, holding out the disc.

"Yeah, yeah, be there in a minute," Julie sighed.

****

At approximately ten that morning, Julie stilled her hand long enough to punch out the numbers for the Bargain Bin clothing store.

"Bargain Bin, today's Sales are..." Grace, the manager and part owner of the Bargain Bin intoned.

"Grace, this is Julie; Mike there pleases?" Julie interrupted.

"What? Mike? Julie, he quit two weeks ago," Grace said. "Friday was his last day; he didn't tell you?"

"No he, wait, what? He quit?" Julie stammered.

"Oh, that's right, you were in rehab, but yeah, came in and gave me his two weeks notice. Going to miss him, now it's up to me and Mindy to unload all them boxes and let me tell you, Mindy is just about useless," Grace said.

Julie heard mindy's muffled protests and Grace's laughter.

"He says where he was going? Maybe he got another job?" Julie asked.

"Nope, just said he'd had enough of living here; wanted to try something new," Grace said. "Oh, hey, Julie? Got another call coming in, talk with you later, and okay?"

Chapter 3

Frank Carrecci stood on the front porch of his rental home and knocked forcefully on the door.

"Yes?" Julie snapped, waving her hand to clear away the cigarette smoke.

"Third of the month," Frank growled.

"Um, okay," Julie said, unsure why the man was telling her what the date was.

"Rent's due third of the month.

"Aw, just fucking unbelievable," Julie snarled. "God! This shit ever going to end?"

She had guzzled one of the non-alcoholic beers; there was nothing else in the house to drink and now craved alcohol. The short and fat ugly man that belched cigarette smoke in her face wasn't helping her foul mood one bit.

"Mike here?" Frank asked.

"No and I don't have a clue where he is either; haven't seen him since yesterday," Julie snapped.

"'Cause his is the only name on the lease," Frank continued.

"And?" Julie asked, screwing up her face against more of Frank's cigarette smoke.

"And your name ain't on the lease," Frank said.

"I'm Julie. Julie Chamblee, Mike's wife," Julie snapped. "Could you blow that smoke anywhere else but in my face?"

"Sorry, wind's blowing it, not me," Frank agreed and dropped the cigarette to the concrete step and stamped it out with his shoe.

"Mommy, Kasie's got another stinky," Andrea loudly proclaimed.

"Get back in the house," Julie ordered.

"Listen, it's the third of the month, rent's due," Frank said and pulled another cigarette out of his shirt pocket.

"Look, Mister..." Julie snapped.

"Carrecci, Frank Carrecci; my house. Been renting it to Mike," Frank said and remembered Julie didn't want cigarette smoke blown in her face, so put the cigarette back into his pocket.

"Well, Mr. Carrecci, Mike's not here, I'm not sure where he is or when he's going to be here, but as soon as I see him..." Julie napped, preparing to go back into the warm house.

"Maybe you do not understand me," Frank snapped, permanent scowl becoming deeper. "It is the third of the month."

"I understand you perfectly," Julie snapped back. "And as soon as..."

"I will be back tomorrow; I expect my eight hundred, in my hand," Frank said, lighting the cigarette.

"As soon as I can get a hold of Mike..." Julie yelled at Frank's wide back.

"Honey, I don't give a shit you get a hold of Mike or not; if I do not get my rent by tomorrow, your fat ass is out on the street, got it?" Frank yelled back, purposefully blowing the cigarette smoke in her direction.

****

Julie put both girls down for a mid-day nap, and then tore the house apart, looking for money, alcohol, or drugs.

In a dresser drawer in the third bedroom, she did find a crisp hundred dollar bill that Mike had apparently hidden underneath their old high school yearbooks. She also found her old stash of marijuana; she had no idea how old the stuff was, but gratefully rolled a joint and smoked it.

Then, thirsty, she drank another non-alcoholic beer and started the cravings all over again.

Julie chanced a call to her mother. Naturally, her mother, seeing the phone number on her Caller ID, let Julie's call go to the answering machine. Julie launched into her message, a blend of begging and demanding Marnie Vogel help her and her two granddaughters.

She also attempted a second call to Sylvia Chamblee. Sylvia Chamblee also let Julie's call go to the answering machine.

****

Frank stood on the doorstep, listening impassively as Julie whined, wheedled, and begged.

"It's eight hundred, not one hundred," he growled, holding the one hundred dollar bill Julie had given him.

I know, but I couldn't, I'm trying to get..." Julie begged.

"How?" Frank interrupted her shrill begging. "Huh? How? You got a job?"

"Well, no, but..." Julie stammered.

"Then where? You going to pull the money from? Out your ass?" Frank asked.

Julie opened her mouth but couldn't think of anything else to say. Inside, she could hear the television set blaring a Disney movie, could hear Andrea's delighted laughter.

"Please, Mr. Carrecci, is there anything...?" Julie asked, tears pooling in her eyes, voice barely more than a whisper.

"Like what?" Frank asked, beady eyes squinting more.

"Like, you know," Julie whispered, then pointed to her crotch.

"You mean a piece of ass?" Frank asked.

Julie couldn't force the words out so, blushing hotly, simply nodded her head 'yes.'

Frank Carrecci appeared to be in his mid to late fifties (he was actually forty six years old) was at least two to three inches shorter than her, with a large, balding head, beady little eyes behind thick horn-rimmed glasses, a very large Roman nose, and permanent scowl on his fleshy face. His teeth were stained from years of cigarette smoke, as were his fingers.

She could tell, though, that his clothing was expensive and in good taste, and the nearly brand new Mercedes Benz parked in front of the house also announced, despite his unattractive appearance, Frank Carrecci was moneyed.

"What time them kids go to bed?" Frank asked.

"I don't know," Julie sobbed out.

"Get them in bed by nine, hear?" Frank ordered and lighted another cigarette. "Then you and me can talk more."

"Yes sir," Julie said and stepped back from the offensive cloud of smoke.

****

Julie had emptied the bottle of Listerine and was debating on whether or not she could smoke another joint before Frank Carrecci came in. Desperation drove her to roll and light the joint, just as the knock came.

Frank waddled in, without his ever-present cigarette. He sniffed the air and scowled deeper.

"You smoke dope, that's your business; don't be smoking that shit in front of them kids, hear?" Frank growled.

Julie bit back the retort; it angered her that this man thought he could tell her how to raise her kids, but she needed to be in his good graces.

"That's why I ain't smoking right now; bad enough I'm polluting my lungs, don't need to be polluting little girls' lungs too," Frank continued and took a seat at the dining room table.

He looked around the kitchen and dining area, faces curled in disgust.

"So, um, Julie, what you do all day? He asked.

"What? What you mean?" she asked, taking a large hit off of the joint.

"Simple question; what do you do all day long? I already know you don't have a job," Frank asked, voice hard.

"You try running after two little girls all day long and see..." Julie shrilled.

"My Donna ran after our boy, managed to keep the house spotless, cooked meals, from scratch, none of that shit out of a can for her, no sir, and found time to make herself look good," Frank cut in. "Damned sure didn't sit around on her fat ass, getting wasted all day long, that's for sure."

Julie clenched her jaw tight; she wanted to stay on Frank's good side.

"So, Julie, let's get down to business, huh?" Frank said, wiping at a smudge of apple jelly on the table.

"Yes sir," Julie said, getting to her feet and pulling the soiled tee shirt over her head.

"Hang on; let's get a few things straight here," Frank said.

"Um, oh, okay," Julie said, crossing her arms in front of her bra covered breasts.

"First off, what you got between your legs? Ain't worth eight hundred a month, you hear? We're going to put you and your girls into an apartment. Sorry, I know you think your pussy's worth a lot more than that, but it ain't," Frank said.

Julie stared at him, mouth open in shock.

"I'll bring over some boxes tomorrow, help you start packing. I figure we should be able to get you all moved in by next Saturday; gives us almost two weeks, all right?" Frank continued.

"I got a choice?" Julie asked bitterly.

"Yeah, you can always tell me fuck off and go find yourself some place else to live," Frank shrugged. "Now, let's see what I'm getting."

Julie closed her eyes and unhooked her bra.

"Damn, not bad," Frank agreed. "Nice fat nipples, like that and none of them dumb ass tattoos fucking it all up; why you kids got to run around getting them tattoos anyway?"

"Always wanted one but never could figure out what to get," Julie admitted.

"Don't; five years later you'll be sick of it but your stuck with them," Frank said.

Julie stood up and slid her sweatpants down her wide hips.

"Natural blonde, huh?" Frank cackled. "Turn around, let's see that ass."

Julie wanted to burst into tears; she felt thoroughly humiliated as she turned around.

"Damn, got a lot of cottage cheese in them thighs, girl," Frank said.

"Could you please...?" Julie whispered.

"Fuck girl, you're a whore, get used to it," Frank snapped. "I'm going to be looking at your body; I'm going to be saying it like I see it."

"I'm not a whore!" Julie shrilled.

"Shh, don't need to be waking them kids up," Frank snapped.

"I am not a..." Julie hissed angrily.

"You offer to fuck me for a place to live, right? What do you call it?" Frank said. "Got any condoms?"

"I am not a..." Julie repeated.

"We can sit here an argue all night long but it still doesn't change the facts," Frank sneered. "Now, got any condoms or not?"

"Don't need them; Crestview gave me a clean bill of health," Julie snapped.

"Bull shit think I'm sticking my dick in that bear trap of yours without any rubbers," Frank said.

"I'll go see," Julie said, took one last hit off of her joint and carefully put it out.

She found a box in Mike's nightstand drawer, fished around, and found two condoms.

"Here, she said, handing the two condoms to Frank.

"Good, good, how about you see if you can get me up?" Frank asked, standing up.