a novella by Brian G. Crawford and Craig D. Hardesty

PHASE THE FIRST--UNHOLY MATRIMONY

The Nebraska skies echoed with peals of thunder. Jagged bolts of lightning streaked across the sky. Below, in the town of Levi, Jeanette Ashley slept a troubled sleep, struggling in the arms of Morpheus.

If her walls had eyes, they would have seen nothing more than the veil of deception shared by the young Jeanette as she lay tossing and turning. Her room had the flavor of the old South. Her bed was crowned by an intricately woven lavender lace canopy, and a goodly number of stuffed animals was stacked against one wall. It was cold as ice now in Jeanette's room. she lay curled up under a large satin comforter with her golden tresses strewn about the pillows in anguish. Her eyes were rimmed with tears and they were swollen from crying in great profusion.

Let it be known that Rufus was but one in a series of strange people who comprised the population of this scarce little town. Each one was eventually to touch the life of our sheltered Jeanette. Each one would play his special role in making her life both bright and miserable in the years to come. One worth mentioning at this point might be the money hungry bastard who was the single biggest obstacle in Jeanette's journey toward satisfaction, the great Ellington J. Ashley, uncle of our maiden. In the absence of a father, Ellington served as a nightmarish figure of authority who, disguised as a model parent among the naive townspeople, fulfilled his twisted sexual desires by playing Jeanette as a helpless fiddle of pleasure.

One fateful night two years before, as Jeanette was sleeping, Ellington entered her room. He had a fiendish grin on his hideous face. It was a look poor Jeanette would come to know well. He threw back her blankets with unbridled appetite. She awoke with a start and screamed with desperation, but to no avail. He tore open her nightgown with insatiable lust, enjoying the sound of the splitting silk. He let out a hearty, robust laugh. "Uncle Ellington has come to play with you, my dear," he said.

"No, no!" Jeanette pleaded in vain.

Ellington cackled once more. He then proceeded to despoil the innocent maiden. He thrust his throbbing manhood into her again and again. And then it was over. The wicked Ellington ceased this inhuman torture and left poor Jeanette scarred for life. Silence reigned once more in the Ashley house. This beastly ritual was performed again almost every night for the next two years, up until this night, the night before her wedding.

The mere thought of spending intimate moments with Dirk sickened Jeanette. She dreaded the day when she would share her life, her thoughts, her feelings, and her bed with this greasy pig of a man with his false stature and bravado. It filled her thoughts constantly during every day, every night, and during every episode with Ellington. Could it be stopped? Could she simply run away? Could she simply take her life and end the misery thrust upon her by this damn fool of an uncle? Yes! She could commit suicide. In this day and age it wasn't considered a sin. No. Jeanette was a coward. She had always been a coward. She was doomed. She was trapped. It was over.

Dirk, however, entertained himself with the thought of the marriage. He sat in his filthy nest and proclaimed between chuckles how he would "break her in like a colt." With every bite from his endless plates of food, he dreamed of a honeymoon filled with harsh and raw play. His love for food was overwhelmed only by his love for sexual pleasure. He was perhaps the most experienced man in Levi, but he had never known the feeling of toying with an innocent young flower like Jeanette. She would be his wife. He would carry on the tradition of Ellington and continue to abuse Jeanette. He loved it. He loved the mere thought of it.

* * *

"Oh, Jeanette! Come here, my sweet," beckoned the evil Ellington.

"Yes, sir?" was Jeanette's timid reply.

"I will be giving you away today and I will hear no argument from you. After all, I am your respected and loving guardian, not to mention a life-long playmate. Hee hee."

"You simply can't put me through this agony!" Jeanette screamed frantically. "It's not right!"

"That's enough, young lady. Shut up and get ready!"

This conversation over, Jeanette ran helpless and humiliated out of the room as Ellington stood erect with a contented smirk that silently cut the stillness like a knife. He knew he had beaten the system. But somehow, somewhere, in the silent backdrop of the small, little room was a voice of passionate rage. On his lips he muttered "Oh what a tangled web we weave." Although not directly audible, and not quite real at all, it pounded like a drum in the burning ears of the evil Ellington.

Within the hour, Ashleys from throughout the world would be arriving in Levi to witness the family's first wedding in twenty years. Among them would be Governor Eli Ashley, distinguished governor of a lesser-known Southern state and notorious associate of Walter Clayton; Eudora Ashley Barnes, an eccentric old widow who was among the richest women in America; and perhaps the most famous of them all, Thaddeus Broughton Ashley, more commonly known as "Cooter." Cooter was a polar explorer who had spent the last fifteen years establishing an American relief effort for the needy in Poland. This one was the single most feared of all of Jeanette's relatives. She was more terrified of Cooter than of Ellington or Dirk, for she had known his sexual wrath long before that of Ellington. He paid many visits to the Ashley house back in the days of Jeanette's mother, and with each visit Jeanette felt an intense, pulsating horror. Cooter, in Jeanette's opinion, even put Ellington to shame. She was determined not to let Cooter do anything to her this time. She would die first!

Meanwhile, Ellington was making his share of preparations for this monumental event as well. Although he was wearing the nicest of clothes and the most falsely affectionate grin he could muster up, most of Ellington's preparations were mental. He was rehearsing over and over in his mind what it would be like to have a direct link to the Claytons. His worthless little Jeanette would be his ultimate advantage. Once and for all he would be able to have an active relationship with Walter Clayton, his biggest rival. His thoughts were also on Eudora and her money. It was known far and wide that her gifts were the most generous imaginable, and, of course, he would be keeping all the wedding presents himself. He also had plans involving Cooter and the Governor. An old woman like Eudora was easily erased from existence and from the minds of most people. Her millions would divide nicely three ways. When he had finished dressing, Ellington smiled his sickening grin and went on his way to give his "candy baby" away to her "charming new husband."

* * *

Rufus sat in his austere shanty, completely alone, except for his pet crow, Hans. Outside he heard faint conversation.

"How are we going to kill the biddy, Ellington?" said Governor Eli.

"Well, here's what we'll do, see, we'll knock her out with a big baseball bat and carry her up here, where we'll shoot her and bury her."

"Yeah, that's a real neat idea!" said old Cooter.

"But how do we get the cash?" asked the Governor.

"She doesn't trust banks," said the wicked Ellington. "She stores all her money in her mattress back in Lincoln. We'll go there and nab it!"

Rufus overheard all of this. He had met Eudora several years ago. He was shocked at first, but he soon knew what to do. He would cut them off at the pass. He prepared in his shanty to play the hero of the moment. His semi-automatic twelve-gage shotgun was loaded and ready, and a mischievous smile appeared on his wrinkled face.

"Now it's just me and my trusty Remington!" he proclaimed.

Thoughts of his midnight interception played upon his bizarre mind mixed with scenes of World War II. Eudora was thrown in the middle of Jewish malaise and German anger. His long-dormant manhood began to tingle.

* * *

The door crashed open with the horrible sound of a refrigerator full of scrap metal and broken glass hurtling higgledy-piggledy down a flight of concrete stairs. Boxes and cans flew everywhere. Jeanette cowered in the corner of the dusty, ephemeral pantry fearing for her life. Her attempt to hide had failed, but it had caused the wedding to be postponed until the next day.

"Meet your new hubby, dear," said the wicked and drunk Ellington.

"Save it till later," said Ellington.

"Oh, dear," muttered Eudora. "What happened to you, love?'

"Oh, Auntie Eudora! You must help me leave this place! They'll kill me if you don't!"

It was evident to Jeanette that her feeble aunt did not comprehend her situation. After Jeanette had a good bath, she sat her aunt down and explained everything that had happened to her over the years and, in particular, the past several days.

"I know, my dear," said Eudora to Jeanette's surprise. "One of these days you'll find out just how much I do know."

The surprise on Jeanette's face was indescribable. What dark, hidden secrets had this old woman been hiding over all these years? Jeanette knew not to question.

"I'll get you out of her if it kills me," insisted Eudora. "We'll leave tomorrow!"

* * *

"Ooooooh!" said the not-so-innocent maiden El Chilito happened to be deflowering when Eudora and Jeanette were ready to make the big getaway. The two women did not want to bother the enigmatic El Chilito during such an inopportune time, so they hid in the bushes and watched. "Oh El Chilito! El Chilito!" said the lascivious wench with almost every thrust of El Chilito's loins. The two lovers were ensconced in the cozy back seat of El Chilito's 1967 Chrysler Newport. They gave an incredible performance. About halfway through, El Chilito drew out, bent his partner over, and began his attack from the flank. El Chilito was superb. An half hour after Jeanette and Eudora began to watch, the two were still at it.

"Wow!" said the dumbfounded Jeanette.

The two came to their crisis. El Chilito pulled out his red, pulsating weapon and pulled on his filthy, grass-stained jeans. He patted his lusty lover on the butt.

"You go back to school now, okay?" said El Chilito as the girl was dressing. Education was important to him. He lit a thin, foul-smelling cigar and saw her out.

"Ahhh," sighed a satisfied El Chilito as he walked away at a slight limp resulting from this test of his aging physical state.

"I hope you didn't see too much of that, Jeanette," said Eudora. "He left the keys in the ignition! This is our lucky day."

By the time El Chilito had discovered the missing car, Eudora and Jeanette were on their way to an unknown destination somewhere away from Levi. Trying to comfort themselves, they tuned into the local radio station and listened to some music. After being used by countless men and now becoming a car thief, "I Fought the Law" was definitely the last song poor Jeanette wanted to hear. In a rage, she reached for a tire jack in the back seat and began beating the radio repeatedly till it was nothing more than a pile of broken glass, plastic, and electrical components.

"I hate this cruel world," said Jeanette rather calmly. "I truly wish I was dead."

As notions of suicide ran through the mind of Jeanette once again, and thoughts of a feeble death and a painful toenail ran through the mind of Jeanette's aunt, they finally saw a ray of hope. A large, green, rectangular sign read, "Gut, Nebraska--next left."

Within an hour, Ellington had rounded up his posse consisting of him, Eli, and Cooter. They would waste no more time with the bothersome Eudora. She would die that night. Jeanette would have to be severely punished as well.

Early the next morning, the men arrived in Gut. They rushed into room 237 and grabbed Eudora and Jeanette. Whilst restraining Jeanette, they took turns striking Eudora over the head with a big club. After she seemed to be pretty dead, they shoved her into the boot of the Chrysler and Cooter drove all day to the St. John River, where he threw her bleeding corpse into a pool of swift, muddy current. Whilst he was gone, the others spent the day in the motel room drinking beer and watching football games, and each one took turns beating Jeanette with his hammer until she cried and said, "uncle."

Rufus had seen the two escape. Upon the return of Jeanette without Eudora, his dreams were shattered. He knew he would never see the lovely Eudora again.

The next morning Phil and Jeanette made secret plans of escape from the hell of Levi. However, the wedding of Jeanette and Dirk would go on as planned. Or would it?

PHASE THE SECOND--SIXTEEN TONS

Levi, Nebraska. 1977. How could such vile atrocities occur in such a mild setting? If Levi were Hell, then the Ashley estate was the ninth circle. Nothing could add to this moreso than the great wedding planned for today. It would be a monumental event in the small town of Levi that was to live in the minds of the inhabitants for years to come. All the members of the wedding party were up and about early making preparations for the big ceremony that was scheduled much earlier than previously thought. A noon wedding on February 15 was definitely not the original plan, but due to these hideous, unforeseen circumstances, this awkward time was the more convenient. This morning was definitely a far cry from the previous morning. Ellington was in his usual form. Dirk had successfully relieved his bowels in an unusually clean fashion, and Jeanette somehow felt more comfortable today in her white dress. She was much more relieved.

As the crowd eagerly awaited the procession, a slow stream of beautifully dressed ladies came marching down the aisle. The young women were presumed to be Jeanette's friends. However, Jeanette had no friends. After living a life of such abuse, one does not make friends very easily. They were strangers hired by Ellington to parade down the aisle and sport the tangerine dresses.

Once the lovely young girls had passed, the organ became oddly silent. Then, in a flurry of music, the wedding song began to bellow. The crowd stood. Governor Eli and Cooter were standing patiently at the front of the church looking back as the crowd joined them in their search for a bride through the big double doors leading to the foyer of the church.

After a few seconds, the beauty emerged. Jeanette was dressed in the finest outfit she had ever worn. Her hair and make-up had been meticulously applied. Her pace was smooth and light. Everything was perfect, but somehow it was not right. The troubled look on Jeanette's face broke through the facade of the wedding and revealed the truth. The crowd could not interpret it, but it was there. The closer she came to Dirk, the more sickening the look became. A small tear began to well up in the corner of her eye. She seemed as though she were marching helplessly off to be slaughtered. She slowly passed through the church and assumed her position at the altar. A long ceremony of cautious incantations followed. Then, suddenly, just as the Reverend Zeke Hutchinson said those dreaded words, "Jeanette, do you take Dirk..."

"Hell, no!" Jeanette screamed, and from the balcony a masked man swung down on a rope. He clutched Jeanette tightly around the waist and ran for the door. The fat, greasy Claytons tried to catch them, but to no avail. Once outside, the couple climbed into a souped-up, canary yellow 1972 Torino and drove off. "Eat shit, Uncle Ellington!" Jeanette screamed in the distance. After a successful escape, the man took off his mask. It was Phil.

"Well," said Phil. "We ditched those creeps!"

"Yeah we sure did!"

The miles rolled by. Jeanette's road to freedom was lined with row upon row of cornfields. She succumbed to the boredom of the road trip and the fatigue of the excitement of the day and fell asleep. When she awoke again it was dark. Spying a motel, Phil said, "Hey Jeanette, let's stop here." Jeanette looked at the motel. In large, brazen, neon letters the name "Tahitian Paradise Inn" could be seen. It was a small seedy place, but it would suit their need well.

Phil parked the Torino behind a row of bushes where the Tahitian Paradise Inn's neon sign wouldn't illuminate the car's canary yellow paint job and serve as a glaring beacon to the evil Ashleys. He entered the front door and Jeanette lost sight of him. He soon returned with the room key.

Jeanette was a little uneasy, since everyone she had ever been in contact with had tried to rape her at one time or another, or at least had though about it. "What's the matter?" inquired Phil.

"Oh, nothing," muttered Jeanette as her mind returned to the thought of Ellington thrusting his unwanted prong of lust into her again and again. "Nothing at all."

"Well, I think I'm about ready to go to bed," sighed Phil as they entered the room. "Are you going to join me?"

Jeanette's heart raced within her quivering torso.

Was it fear of arousal she felt?

Could this be the first actual act of true love for poor, poor Jeanette?

She couldn't bear the thought of Phil forcing himself upon her like a thing of pure lust. "No, thank you," she replied.

Phil breathed a sigh of relief. He knew he had said the wrong thing, but he was assured by Jeanette's sureness that tonight would be more than just another one night stand.

Jeanette thought long and hard about what Phil had meant. Had she ruined her only chance for a real sexual encounter?

She looked across the room and saw Phil begin to unbutton his shirt, and her heart leaped again, making her bosom heave ever so delicately.

Phil looked in the mirror and saw Jeanette peering at him.

He instantly wondered what she was thinking.

He decided to play it cool. "Would you like a blanket?" he asked.

"No, thank you," she replied again. More thoughts raced through her already jumbled mind, making her shapely bosom heave all the more faster.

Was she acting too uninterested?

She definitely didn't want to miss out on this opportunity, so she added to her reply by saying, "I think I'll just share with you."

Phil felt his eager manhood rising to the occasion and decided to lie down, lest he show how anxious he really was. "I think I'll go ahead and lie down," he said.

"What is it?" Jeanette inquired. "Am I making you nervous?" She knew the best approach would be to play it stupid, for men always liked the "dumb blonde" types. She would lure him into her trap ever so slowly.

"Come over here," she said. "I have something to show you." Jeanette began to think she was getting ahead of herself, but Phil rose from the bed slowly.

"What is it you have to show me?" asked Phil with a slightly squeaky voice. His manhood seemed to think the time was right and burst forth from his open fly, just in time to give Jeanette a gentle, yet sharp nudge into the right direction.

Phil knew that he had just made the worst mistake of his life when Jeanette reached around to grasp his tool of fornication.

"What's this?" asked Jeanette in a voice Phil did not think of as comforting. "Just what did you plan to do with this?"

Phil thought he could take no more when she stopped and pushed him back on the bed. His chest was heaving now, but his manhood begged for more. "Oh, Jeanette," he breathed.

"Yes, Phil?" she asked quickly.

Had she done the right thing?

Did she do it correctly?

Phil's expression seemed to convey the answer quite well.

Phil said nothing more and pulled her to the edge of the bed. Jeanette started undoing the zipper on the back of her dress, making her already full bosom bulge in front of Phil's face. "Let me help you with that," he offered. He soon saw that all she wore under the dress were a silk nightgown and matching white bra and panties complete with pink hearts and a purple teddy bear insignia. The dress dropped to the floor and Phil stood up behind Jeanette.

Phil's fingers ran down Jeanette's side and produced a slight giggle. he brought them back up and slid them under the shoulder strap of her brassiere. Slowly, his fingers reached the point where the strap ended and the cup began. Phil wondered whether or not to go on when Jeanette again grasped his organ, and it was then that Phil knew there was no turning back.

Jeanette felt Phil's fingers slide through her silk brassiere. They were like a spider, inching its way along. Then he reached her nipple and she issued forth a slight gasp of arousal. He moved from there to the middle and unhooked the brassiere completely. She turned to face him and the brassiere slid unhindered down her delicate arms. Phil found himself staring at her nakedness, but he could not help it. She had the most perfect breasts he had ever seen. They were like melons at their peak of ripeness. It was as if they were supported by angels, for there was no sign of anything else. Jeanette noticed him staring and placed her hands atop the breasts from heaven.

She was teasing him!

He liked it!

Phil picked her up and laid her down on the bed. She instantly retaliated and pushed his hands away again.

She was doing it again!

How dare she!

Phil decided he liked this as well and let her proceed. Jeanette leaned towards him and placed her hands behind her back.

There were those bloody breasts again!

He couldn't take his eyes off them! That is, until he felt her nose brush against his navel.

She was using her teeth! This girl really knew how to turn a man on!

She had no idea what he was doing. Then she was taken by surprise when she felt Phil between her legs. He began to caress her. But her panties were still on!

He was teasing her! Jeanette now knew what true love was. She wanted this man to bear her child!

Phil moved from where he was and raised Jeanette's legs. He grasped the edge of her silk panties and pulled them off slowly. Then he removed the rest of his clothing. They were both totally naked, as innocent as Adam and Eve.

Almost.

"Don't worry, I'll guide you through this," Phil said reassuringly. He knew the right place that would drive Jeanette to near insanity.

He ran his fingers through the small gap where her legs came together. It was as wet and slick as hot motor oil. She began to wonder if he were ever going to penetrate the threshold of her womanhood when it happened. Phil almost accidentally slid his fingers into the hot crevasse and produced a gasp from Jeanette. this was the place. All he had to do now was to enter the gateway of sexual pleasure and work his way into ecstasy.

Phil entered her. He found the right rhythm and Jeanette moved along with him.

"Aaaahhhh," moaned Jeanette.

"Ughhhh," muttered Phil.

Phil knew he couldn't hold out for much longer, lest his seed come out too soon.

Jeanette had lost all control. She was becoming a jackhammer with an endless supply of air. Phil knew this, but held out nevertheless.

Then it happened.

Jeanette screamed, and her shapely hips began to spasmodically move to their own rhythm.

Phil was losing control too.

Jeanette's body was covered with a sweat resembling that of a race horse after a long day.

Phil moaned with ecstasy as he came to his climax.

Jeanette lost control of every sense and muscle she had and tensed up like a Boy Scout knot.

Phil rolled off slowly, and Jeanette looked pretty well pleased.

"How do you feel?" he asked Jeanette.

"Tired but happy," she said as she wrapped her legs around Phil's.

Phil knew his night was through. He drifted off to sleep a fulfilled and satisfied man.

* * *

A cock crew in the distance, announcing the birth of the morning after. The wan, early morning sun shone through the dirt-encrusted windows of the Tahitian Paradise Inn, bestowing its gift of hope upon the two occupants. Jeanette awoke.

"Phil, are you awake?" said the sleepy Jeanette. But Phil was not in the bed with her.

"I'm in here," said Phil with a mixture of slobber and white foam running down his face like a dog in a hellish nightmare. "I'm brushing my teeth with this wonderful complimentary toothpaste called 'Minty'."

"You're doing what?" Jeanette muttered in a half-disoriented state of mind. she looked over and saw the fountain of spit. "Aaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhh!" screamed Jeanette.

"Relax," said Phil. "I'm just brushing my damn teeth."

Jeanette brushed off the response and began to make the seemingly endless journey from the king-size bed to the glossy pink bathroom. Once inside beside Phil, she felt completely at home. However, Phil's mind was still on the previous night when he performed his lifetime masterpiece with Jeanette. He wanted to do it again right now, but upon his slamming of the door and making bold advances to her, Jeanette expressed her uneasiness and fled from the motel completely naked. Once outside in the cold she began to regret her actions, partially as a result of pity for the naive Phil and partially because of the crowd of onlookers cursing her, avoiding her, and drooling over her.

"Jeanette, get back in here before you catch your death," Phil demanded. As he wiped his mouth free of pasty foam, he backed up this anger with an evil stare. Once the commotion had subsided, Phil and Jeanette finished the morning business of preparation and grabbed their shoddy luggage and left the room.

"Oh, my God!" screamed Phil as he frantically scanned the parking lot. "Where's my car?"

"How will we ever get out of here without a car, Phil?" sobbed Jeanette. "What are we going to do?"

Just then a man with greasy hair and flashy clothing shouted to them from a corner nearby. "Hey, buddy, you and the dame lookin' for a good car? Boy, have I got one for you! She's a real honey if you know what I mean."

Phil and Jeanette went to inspect this so-called "honey" of a car. Within the hour they had purchased a most likely stolen 1954 Nash Rambler with a broken windshield and milk crate seats and were off to their Montana destination. As they wobbled down the highway, Jeanette looked over at Phil and said in a soft and unusually innocent voice, "Phil, do you really love me?"

"Of course I do," he said in an half-annoyed voice.

After this, Jeanette knew that Phil's obsession with her was merely a passing love created from the loneliness of a desperate moment. This seemed to make Jeanette feel more relieved than she had been in quite some time. He could fulfill his dreams of coal mining and she could explore new pathways to find her true self as well. However, she had made up her mind that she would hang on for a little while longer. The stability and loving that Phil had given her was unmatched by anyone she had ever met. One more wild and sensuous night with Phil, and she would be ready to make the break from her Levi deliverer.

* * *

Meanwhile, somewhere in the wilderness, a wet, mud-covered form crawled out of the St. John River. It was Eudora. "I'm alive!" she rasped.

* * *

"Phil, I think there's something wrong with this piece of shit you're driving!" said a tired and angry Jeanette.

"Just shut up and enjoy the ride!" was Phil's quick reply.

"Pull over, you idiot," said Jeanette.

Phil pulled over to the side of the road red as a beet, seething with anger. He turned off the struggling engine and set the parking brake. The livid couple exited the miserable Rambler. Phil kicked the tire. "Damn!" he screamed. "That stupid bastard really gypped us!" Aside from a vent for Phil's spleen, his kick to the tire produced a secondary effect--the parking brake failed and the car began to roll downhill. Phil and Jeanette ran after it, but to no avail. The car went off the cliff, hurtling with incredible speed toward an innocent beaver dam.

"Oh, those poor beavers!" Jeanette sobbed as the car struck the ground and exploded, completely annihilating the unsuspecting animals' structure. Glass and metal flew everywhere. Phil began to curse in a low, groaning voice. Jeanette wept violently. "What'll we do now?" she cried.

"I guess we'll have to hitchhike," said Phil.

"You going anywhere near Rugged?" asked Phil.

"Well, I reckon I'll be goin' that way. Hop on in. You jump back there in the back and that pretty young thing beside ya can sit up here with me. Just call me Reverend!"

After an initially unsuspecting show of appreciation, Phil finally began to notice in detail just what he had gotten himself and his partner into. This Montana man with a curious West Virginian accent and a sorry old truck covered with Confederate flags and furnished with gunracks and horns was now driving the two to a town over 300 miles away out of nothing more than supposed kindness. As Phil continued to gaze at the massive collection of beer cans taking up the majority of space in the bed of the truck, Jeanette was forming her own opinion about this unusual man known as Reverend.

"Ya know little lady, I been a preacher for close to 30 years now. I been givin' rides to folks like you for most of that time and I never yet met one of ya who ain't had some kind of problem. You know ya just act all wild and crazy. Ya pump alkeyhall in yer body and ya eat them there cigarettes and ya expect all us responsible folks to just revolve around ya. Well, I tell you what..."

Right at the point where the lecture turned into a nasty blow to the human race, Jeanette interrupted with a plea to use the next available restroom. After several choice words and a few long miles, the vehicle came to a stop at the Shiloh Gas and Drug Barn. "I'll only take a minute," Jeanette said apologetically.

Once Jeanette had relieved herself and purchased several sandwiches for the trip, the ride resumed. Immediately, the strange old man resumed his damnation of American youth. "I tell ya when you all is gonna get yours. It says it in the good book. Armageddon's when it's gonna be. That's right, Armageddon! ARMAGEDDON!"

Several hours of this insane preaching eventually filled up the better portion of the trip. Upon coming to the sign that said, "Rugged/Dead Tree Next Right," the preacher violently sent them on their way. After Phil had scrambled out of his world of beer cans and started to offer a word of appreciation to the man, the preacher once again resumed his friendly tone and bid them good luck and farewell. Phil had not heard the philippic Reverend delivered and was surprised at Jeanette's relief to be rid of the man. The couple gathered up their luggage and began the remainder of the trip to Rugged. It was hard to believe that in a few short minutes they would finally be there.

* * *

Eudora slithered along the bank of the mighty St. John River. She stood up and gingerly felt her sore, wounded head. She was lucky to have that steel plate in her head from a car accident of many years ago. The withered old woman found herself in the Robespierre Memorial National Park on a hiking trail. All of a sudden, a family approached. The youngest child, Mikey, spied the mud-encrusted form of Eudora Ashley Barnes and instantly reacted with fright. "Mommy!" the boy screamed. "It's Frankenstein!" The whole family ran away with incredible haste. Eudora sat down on a large rock and cried.

"Ellington must die," she said.

* * *

It was 11:00 p.m. now in Rugged. Phil and Jeanette had seemingly been trying for an eternity to make it to the quaint mining town where they would, as he thought, assume positions in life surviving as a normal couple. They immediately contacted Phil's uncle Rex who was a foreman at a local mine. He greeted them with a warm and honest smile. He told his nephew that he would pay him a salary of 40 dollars a week and give him instant access to the company store and shelter in company house number 412.

The two were so tired when they finally settled down on the plain mattress in their new home that the usual bedtime thoughts were simply not in their minds. They though only of sleep. Nothing else mattered at this point. After they both attained a comfortable position, thoughts of the last two days floated through their minds uncontrollably. Had it all been worth it? Would Jeanette learn to like this new, poor way of life? Would Phil be irreparably damaged when Jeanette dumped him? "Phil, I'm glad you're you," said Jeanette in an exhausted daze.

"Let's talk in the morning," said Phil who was equally exhausted. Needless to say, morning came early. The two were fully rested, but this was no compensation for what they awoke to. House 412 had seemed like a decent little place under the dark night skies. However, it had mutated into something hideous under the morning sun. Upon initial examination, they noticed a bowed floor on which standing water from the rotted and stained ceiling above had leaked. Over in the corner of the bedroom stood a primitive coal stove.

"A stove in the bedroom?" questioned Jeanette. "You actually have to use coal in that iron monster?"

"Well, what else would you use in Rugged?" joked Phil.

"Oh, my God," said Jeanette nervously. "Where's the bathroom?"

They got dressed quickly and headed into town to explore further. They spent the remainder of the day inspecting the mine in which Phil would work. Toward evening when they returned to their disgusting shack, even the filth couldn't ruin the peace they felt inside. Nightfall crept through the tattered curtains and a roach scuttled across the old stove. Jeanette and Phil lay exhausted in each other's arms declaring their love.

* * *

Phil left for work early the next morning. Jeanette prepared a barely edible breakfast of burned toast with no butter, but lots of coal dust. After Phil's departure, she went back to bed. It would be hard for her to tell Phil that their brief relationship was over, but it must be done. Then she thought of just what she would do and where she would go after she left. She knew no one except their new landlord and he was related to Phil. She certainly couldn't go back to Levi. The whole reason for all of this was to leave there for good. She knew she could not stand staying with Phil, for every time she looked into his eyes her mind filled with guilt and memories of the place she had left behind. she knew she must talk to someone.

"Oh, hi there," said a sleepy Jeanette.

"Oh, well pardon my appearance. I must look dreadful!"

"On the contrary, missy, I think yer quite purty."

Jeanette became suspicious. Who was this strange man and why wasn't he at work?

"Why aren't you at work, Mr. Berger?"

"Oh, please, call me Tom. I'm just visiting with my relatives. I come from Duluth. You know, in Minnesota."

"Uh, yeah," said Jeanette with a tolerant smile. "Would you like to sit down, Mr. Berger, uh Tom? I'll get you some coffee."

"Why thank ya," said Tom. He sat down on the filthy plaid sofa as Jeanette went to get him a cup of coffee. She soon returned with the dubious mixture of cold coffee and milk and resumed her conversation with Mr. Berger.

"Thank ya kindly," said Tom. He took a sip, smiled wanly, and asked her, "Have you ever been to Duluth?"

"No."

"Oh, man, you should visit it! It's a real hotspot. I live out there and so does my brother. You might have heard of him. His name is Ed, but he spells his last name B-U-R-G-E-R. He's in adult films, ya know. They call him 'Ed Burger, the Man with the Meat.' Kinda catchy, huh?"

"Yeah," said Jeanette.

"Oh, I'm sorry," said Tom. "I shouldn't talk about things like that in front of a lady!"

Just then, Jeanette's mind lost all rational reasoning. she saw Tom out rather quickly with a hearty, "thank you." These lies about Phil's evil actions had certainly paid off. Now she finally had the ace in the hole which she had been looking for. Not only had she established connections in Rugged that would last forever, she also had new ties in a totally new part of the country. All this in a few short hours! Tom was literally a blessing in disguise!

Now every thought that crossed her mind was decorated with scenes of Duluth. It was Jeanette's promised land. she diligently began to make preparations to leave. Suddenly, it didn't matter how she broke the news to Phil. She had become so obsessed with the idea of going to a fresh, new place that she didn't seem to care whether Phil lived or died. Her incredible selfishness was finally beginning to show. She would leave tonight--without Phil!

"I have something to tell you," said Jeanette in an unbecoming and monotone voice. She was now reduced to nothing more than a cold and heartless user. She would break the shocking news to him one way or another. Out of exhaustion, Phil did not even acknowledge her words. Upon seeing this state in which the mines had suddenly put Phil, she went into the bedroom and emerged with several pieces of old luggage weighing down both hands. It was the same luggage she had used in her flight from Levi. now she was flying again. Phil finally noticed her.

"What's that for?" he asked, trying to overcome his fatigue just enough to care.

"I'm leaving you, Phil," Jeanette finally said, lacking a single ounce of remorse.

"Why, what, why? Are you crazy? Are you out of your mind? Where are you going? What is this all about? What did I do wrong? Don't you love me like you said? What did I do wrong? Wasn't I any good?"

An evil smile swept quickly on and off Jeanette's face at this last remark. A small gesture, slightly noticeable, but one that could literally ruin the remainder of Phil's life. Without saying another word, Jeanette walked out the door and into the quiet street leaving Phil a lonely, cheated, and desperate man.

PHASE THE THIRD--BABYDOLL AND FISHFOOD

Jeanette had set out walking at 11:00 p.m., and by midnight her ride had beckoned her to enter his masculine rig for a long ride which he vowed would take her to Prince of Whales, North Dakota, and other places she had never seen. These obvious sexual connotations were readily accepted by Jeanette, for she had already decided to give her body for a price once she reached Duluth. She would simply have to start early.

"Name's Bert Parker," said the greasy trucker. "You sure are a purty little thang ain't ya! What the hell is a sweet mama like you doin' with ya thumb in the air on a stretch o' road like this here at pert near midnight? You oughtta be in some guy's bed right about now! Haw haw!"

"Well, mister," Jeanette said in an unusually shy voice. Her mind wandered. She was trying to figure out how long it would be before the rough looking beast at the wheel would cajole her into the rear of his cab. "So, how far are you going after Prince of Whales?"

"Well, ya see," the bearded driver began. "I'm a-gonna be stayin' in Prince o' Whales for a long time. That's whar ma sweetie lives. We got us a little thang goin', if you know what I mean," he guffawed.

Jeanette could not believe it. She may not have to sleep with this strange bear of a man after all. He actually had a woman somewhere. Of course, that still was no indication that he would refuse to be untrue. "May I ask the name of this special someone?" Jeanette whispered awkwardly.

"Biff."

"Oh, my God!" wailed Jeanette. "You mean you're a homosexual!" Jeanette began to feel herself becoming faint. she had hitched a ride with a man she now believed to be an utter lunatic. "I'll get off at the next town."

"Why, you ain't a-gonna go nowhars," groaned the man in a maniacal voice as the doors of the cab began to click. "Biff likes girls too!"

Immediately, an uncontrollable streak of panic shot through Jeanette's entire body and she began to tug furiously at the door. "Let me out, you weirdo!' Jeanette screamed frantically.

After this, the driver began to get angry. He ordered her to shut up and then he struck her with an empty liquor bottle. She fell to the floor with a dull, sickening thud. The driver tuned the radio to a country station and kept on driving. With every mile, the man sank further into a drunken stupor. The more intoxicated he became, the more his driving suffered.

Jeanette awoke early the next morning just after the break of dawn. At first she could not figure out where she was. Then she recalled the drunken state of the trucker when he had struck her. She determined from this that he must have lost control of the rig during the pre-dawn morning and landed the cab on its top in the cornfield where Jeanette now lay. How she had survived this accident without a single scratch was beyond her comprehension, but she could see the bearded trucker's bleeding body still behind the massive wheel of the twisted truck.

Jeanette scrambled to her feet and began to run from the scene. At this point, she couldn't care less whether that horrible trucker lived or died. She ran till she came to a small service station where she cleaned herself as best she could and walked calmly back to the highway to try her luck once more with the passers-by.

* * *

Jeanette was back on the road again. She didn't want to hitchhike any more after such a nightmarish encounter with the horrifying Bert Parker. However, it seemed that she had no alternative. Gingerly, she held out her delicate thumb for almost two hours, but no one showed any indication of stopping. It was dark now, and Jeanette was scared. Just then a gas station attendant who had been eyeing her surreptitiously for some time approached her. "Can I be of any assistance, ma'am?" he asked benignly.

"Well," said Jeanette, guessing the price of his assistance, "I guess you can."

"What can I do for you?" said the dubious grease monkey.

"I need a lift."

"Well, I get off work here in a few minutes. I'll give ya a ride then. By the way, the name's Larry."

"Don't you have anything else?' she asked the clerk. The man was too busy eyeing Jeanette's buttocks to hear her. She asked him again.

He finally noticed that she had spoken. "No," he replied. "The supply truck hasn't come in yet."

Jeanette looked again at her selection. She imagined the slimy Yoo Hoo slithering down her parched throat. Her other selection was no better. however, the Fireball might dull her senses to the point where she wouldn't mind being used by Larry. She grabbed a bottle of Fireball and walked to the counter. The clerk was drooling. She plopped the bottle on the counter with her dollar. The stuff only cost 79 cents, so she had money to spare. The clerk gave her back her change and she left. "Bye," he said. As she exited the miserable excuse for a store, she saw Larry standing in front of a black 1973 Camaro. He was throwing the keys up in the air and catching them, and a smile appeared on his pockmarked face. She approached him.

"Ready to go babe?" he asked.

"Yeah," said the frightened Jeanette.

"Well hop on in," said the hospitable Larry as he held the door for her. Jeanette got in. She opened the Fireball and sipped it. It was horrible. It smelled like paint thinner and tasted worse, but she was so thirsty. She drank half the bottle. She couldn't take any more. "Where ya goin?" Larry asked.

"I'm going to Duluth," Jeanette said.

"Well," Larry said. "It's gonna take some encouragement to get me to take you to Duluth."

"All right," said Jeanette. "I'll do anything you want."

Larry pulled over to the side of the road. "Take off your clothes," he said. Jeanette complied.

"You aren't going to hurt me, are you?" Jeanette asked, her voice shaking.

"Hell no," said Larry. "All I want is a little fun."

He directed her to the back seat after she had removed everything but her panties and brassiere. He followed, pulled down his pants and took the rest of her clothes off of her. He got on top of her, flopped around for about two minutes while grabbing her breasts as if he were squeezing the juice out of an orange, and it was over. Larry pulled up his pants, went to the front seat, and got back on the road to Duluth. He said nothing else, and in a few hours, Jeanette found herself in her Canaan, looking for Ed Burger, the man with the meat.

* * *

The events that had transpired on the road with Larry did not bother her any longer. She had been so used by Ellington that penetration into her body was no worse than breathing. She had to hold fast to this belief if she were to survive in Duluth. Her resources were now down to no more than a few sixpence and a half-full bottle of Fireball. She had an address scribbled on a piece of paper, but that would no buy her a meal. She knew she must put it to good use and find Ed Burger.

"What kind of room can I get for a sixpence?" pleaded Jeanette.

"Not much lass," said the desk clerk.

"I need a place to stay," she continued to beg.

Well, there is the old room 47 at the end of the hall," he said hauntingly. "We haven't used it since the murder in '58. A man named Thaddeus Waldheimer shot his new wife in that room back in September of 1958. It's been sealed up ever since, but we can reopen it for you if you like."

"I like," said the unsuperstitious Jeanette. "It will be perfect for tonight."

Thus, they reopened the long-abandoned room and allowed Jeanette to spend her first night in Duluth. Naturally, nothing happened to her in the dreary room except for a speedy recovery from her intoxication and exhaustion. The bathroom of room 47 had never seen such regurgitation as that put forth by Jeanette.

The next morning she awoke to find a bright and welcoming Sunday morning greet her with a smile. She felt more wonderful than she had ever felt before in spite of the fact that she had a terrible hangover. She was finally completely free of her past and exactly where she thought she wanted to be. Now all she had to do was to find Mr. Burger. Having no money, she struck a deal with the desk clerk to trade the bottle of Fireball for cab fare.

Jeanette left the hotel and hailed a cab. It was a shoddy vehicle, a 1969 Mercury with a collection of filth inside and out. However, it would do.

"I need to go to 110 East Hapsburg Street," she said sternly to the cab driver.

"Okay, ma'am," he said facetiously.

Whilst riding through what seemed like every single slum in Duluth's east side, she finally made it to the long-anticipated Hapsburg Street.

"This is as far as I go, lady. Give me your money," demanded the arrogant driver.

"Here," said Jeanette in an annoyed voice. Then she began to seek out 110. She had to find Ed Burger.

* * *

Jeanette approached the vile dwelling. After turning the greasy doorknob and looking to her immediate left, Jeanette saw a decrepit row of brazen mailboxes. Sure enough, one of the mailboxes said BURGER on it. Jeanette ascended the rickety staircase in search of apartment thirteen, the abode of the Burger brothers. After finding it, she knocked timorously and stepped back. After about three minutes, the door was opened. It was Ed. He was an handsome, stout man of about forty. He had black, wavy hair just as his brother Tom did, and he presented himself to Jeanette wearing a purple bathrobe and aviator sunglasses while smoking a cigarette in a holder.

"Yeah," he said. "Whaddaya want?"

"I want to talk to you," Jeanette said, nervous.

The enigmatic man with the meat looked Jeanette up and down. He scratched his hairy chest. "All right. Come on in,"

Jeanette entered the apartment. A slender, dark-haired woman wearing nothing but a pair of panties was sitting on Ed Burger's florid couch filing her nails. Ed Burger looked at her. "Beat it," he said to her.

The woman looked up. "Aw, come on, Ed," she said.

"I said scram!"

The girl went into a bedroom and emerged dressed in about two minutes. She kissed the impassive Ed Burger on the mouth and left chewing a big wad of gum.

"Siddown," Ed said to Jeanette. "You want something to drink, babe?"

"I'll have a coke, please," said Jeanette.

"Coke?" said Burger with a laugh. "Are you for real, baby?"

"Well then, I'll have a beer."

"Groovy," said Ed. He opened the refrigerator and withdrew a bottle of beer. He twisted the cap off and handed it to Jeanette.

"Thank you," she said.

"Sure, babe," said Ed as he was pouring Scotch whisky into a large water glass. He plopped a chunk of ice into the drink and sat down beside Jeanette. He took a gulp of whisky.

"So what can I do for you, hon?"

"Tom Berger sent me."

"Why?"

"He told me I could stay here."

"Stand up," the man with the meat commanded.

Ed Burger walked around Jeanette several times. He felt her breasts as if he were feeling the material of a suit he was going to purchase. He stroked her buttocks and ran his hand between her legs. "I could learn to love a girl like you," he said. "Sure, you can stay here."

"Great," said a jubilant Jeanette.

"Take your clothes off. Make yourself at home," said Ed.

"All right." Jeanette removed all of her clothing except her panties. The other woman hadn't removed hers, so why should she? She didn't want to look to eager-to-please.

"Whew!" said Ed as Jeanette was disrobing. She smiled wanly.

"Well, hon," said Ed. "I'd like to stay around and play, but I gotta go to work. You can stay here. I'll be back around eight o' clock. There's a projector. You can watch some of my stuff if you want. Don't bother looking for anything to steal. There isn't anything of value."

He exited the living room and returned a few minutes later dressed in an expensive suit. He came up to Jeanette and put his arms around her. He smelled her hair, grabbed her by the hips, and kissed her passionately. This man was certainly an hedonist! "Mmmm," he said. "I might be back earlier than eight!" And with that he left.

After his departure, Jeanette removed her panties. She threw them in a corner. She lay down on the luxurious plush carpeting and rolled around, dizzy with excitement. She was finally free!

* * *

People stared at her as she wandered around the Robespierre National Park. She was very hungry, half dead, and covered with filth. Luckily, a caring passer-by noticed her condition and took her to a local hospital. Since she had no identification and refused to give them her name so that her relatives would not know that she was still alive, the doctor on call treated her for several hours and released her. He noticed that she had no money so he informed her of Mr. Felopez who would give her cash for the gold.

Still mud-covered, Eudora finally made her way to Mr. Felopez's house. He answered the door apprehensively and slowly.

"Can I help you?" he said in a low, nervous voice.

"Sir, I know I may look horrid, but I need your help," she said in a slow and stumbling mutter.

"But how can I help you? You need a doctor!"

"I just came from the hospital. I'm in trouble and I have no money except for this bag of Spanish doubloons from the seventeenth century. They said you would be willing to buy them."

"Well ma'am, I suppose I could give you some food. Of course, I would be willing to give you some money for the doubloons as well."

"Then it's a deal."

Through sheer luck, Eudora had stumbled onto a man who would give her everything she needed. He immediately took her in, fed her a wonderful meal of steak and eggs, gave her clean living quarters for as long as she needed, and gave her several thousand dollars for clothing and other necessities. Amazingly, he gave his full and complete trust to Eudora, a stranger he had never met. All this was done for a bag of gold doubloons!

After a week of Mr. Felopez's hospitality, Eudora thought she had taken from him quite enough. She went down the street to Edna MacMillan's Used Cars and purchased a shiny, red 1958 Pontiac Bonneville to use in her soon-to-be-taken trek to Levi. She smiled when she saw it and said under her breath, "There it is--my revengemobile."

* * *

By six o' clock that evening, Jeanette had not moved from her exposed position on Ed Burger's sheepskin sofa. This relieved Ed as he walked in from his exhausting day down at the set of I Was a Naked Teenage Plumber. "Hey, doll," chuckled Ed. "I hope you're real comfy, 'cause if there's one thing I like after a hard day's work it's a nice soft woman."

Ed approached Jeanette. He had a sinister leer on his face which betrayed his insatiable sexual hunger. Quickly, with a fluid grace, Ed stripped to his underwear. He looked at her. He seemed to be able to penetrate into the depths of her soul with his gaze, making her feel even more naked despite the fact that she had not a stitch of clothing on. She trembled.

"And now," Ed said, taking hold of his underwear. "Here's what you've been so eagerly awaiting. He pulled the gaudy zebra-striped briefs off, revealing the tool that had made this master craftsman famous. It was enormous. Jeanette had only seen its like on large farm animals. It rose to the occasion. It was as long and firm as a stick of pepperoni such as one may see hanging from the ceiling of a pizzeria. Ed removed a plastic packet from a desk drawer. It looked like a condom, but it was too large! Or was it? Ed opened the packet. It was a condom!

"I have these specially made at Duluth Rubber Company," said Burger nonchalantly as he rolled on the prodigious lubricated prophylactic. He walked up to Jeanette. She had not moved at all. He grasped her ankles, spread her legs, and began to do what he did best whilst Jeanette screamed from a strange combination of pain and pleasure.

The two loved on well into the next morning. Since it was Saturday, Ed had no concern for time. After all was said and done, he was well pleased with his brother Tom and this feminine masterpiece he had sent. Ed had big plans for this peach named Jeanette. Early in the afternoon the two got out of bed and began to clean up. "You don't use 'Minty' toothpaste, do you?" asked Jeanette. "It scares me!"

"No babe, I use vodka and baking soda to brush my choppers," Ed said with a sinister grin. "Never had a cavity."

In the back of her mind Jeanette wondered if all this was such a good idea. This became clearer to her as she watched Ed continue his peculiar morning activities. He stumbled out of the bathroom and dressed himself in a pair of greasy boxer shorts and a tank top.

"Are you going out like that?"

"Sure, doll," Ed said with another annoying chuckle.

Ed left the bedroom and proceeded to the kitchen where he got a dirty bowl from underneath the sink, quickly scrubbed it with detergent and filled it with some cereal. Having no milk in his disease infested refrigerator, he proceeded to use some cheap beer. As Jeanette looked on with shock, he turned to her and smiled. "Ah, beer 'n' cereal! Snap, crackle, and belch! Ha ha ha!" He then found a pair of slippers in the corner, put them on, and left.

* * *

Jeanette was still recovering from her first night with Ed Burger when he returned from an undisclosed place. She had spent the bulk of the day eating the junk food Ed kept around the house. He was surely not a health-conscious man. As the doorknob slowly turned, Jeanette prepared herself for another bout with the infamous pornography star.

"Hey, babe, you ain't moved your cute little bottom an inch since I left," said the crude Ed.

"Why, no," whispered Jeanette. "After last night I've been too exhausted to do anything strenuous."

"Don't worry, you'll get used to it."

At this point, Jeanette deeply regretted her decision to leave Phil and Rugged behind. She began to feel shameful once again as she thought of how selfish she was with the man who had helped her escape the horrors of Levi. He was, she thought, the only person she had ever known who truly loved her. At this, she felt a tremendous need to leave the filth of Ed's flat if only for a few moments.

"Ed, you don't care if I go out for a while do you?" asked Jeanette hesitantly.

"Where you plannin' on goin'?" shouted Ed in an all too forbidding tone. "What the hell d'you mean by 'out' you little whore!"

"I'm sorry Ed. I don't mean any harm. I just wanted to get out of the house for a while. Don't be mad."

"You cheap, worthless, no-good... Now you've done it. I can't let somebody else get a hold of you. I got to teach you some manners!"

Ed had the look in his eye of a demonic psychopath ready for nothing but destruction. He was finally letting his terrible temper show through the placid facade of a carefree bachelor. Jeanette, not knowing how to react, began a fruitless speech of seduction to change Ed's stone cold heart.

"Please, baby, didn't you like last night? Wasn't I good enough for you? Let's go again right now."

Needless to say, Ed was not stirred by the notion. He clamped his iron hand onto Jeanette's arm and threw her into a nearby utility closet. As Jeanette screamed with fright, Ed stared with a vile look of revenge into her eyes.

"Please," pleaded Jeanette. "Just let me go."

"I have to take care of some business. I'll finish with you when I get home!"

Jeanette spent the next three hours trying to escape from the closet. Finally, she found a loose piece of tile in the closet ceiling. However, it didn't seem quite large enough for her to get through.

Momentarily, she found several other loose tiles in the ceiling. In a matter of minutes the entire ceiling was completely bare. To Jeanette's surprise, there was a rather large attic to Ed's home. At the time, however, Jeanette was not concerned with this peculiarity. She only saw this as a long-awaited means of escape. She readily entered the concealed chamber.

"Oh my God!" Jeanette screamed in terror as she climbed into the attic. "Oh, Jesus! Ahhhhhhh!"

PHASE THE FOURTH--BON APETIT

"I'm gonna blow their stinkin' brains out!" said Eudora, stroking the shotgun.

"No, that's not enough. I'll flog them and then shoot them!"

* * *

A million things shot through Jeanette's befuddled mind as she gazed upon the surprising spectacle that she had uncovered. There before her lay over twenty corpses wrapped in plastic lying on the floor of Ed Burger's attic. Jeanette's senses were dulled. Not only had she stumbled onto a disgusting, egotistical, chauvinist pig, she had stumbled into the path of a cold-blooded murderer. At this point, the only thing she could do was sob and crawl. The further she crawled, the more bodies she found. Just then she spied a light coming from the other end of the attic. As she slowly made her way over, a sick joy filled her heart. It was a skylight. It was an escape.

Jeanette finally made her way onto the roof and to freedom from this madman. She even had her ticket to total freedom in her hand. She scrambled down a trellis in the rear and spotted Ed coming toward the house. Her heart jumped and she took off like a bullet down the unfamiliar back street. She had to get away!

After she judged herself to be at a safe distance she stopped and waited. Momentarily, she heard Ed's hellish scream. This provoked Jeanette to resume her running. The first telephone she came to, she placed an anonymous call to the local police and gave Ed's name.

Luckily, the plane listed on the ticket was to leave in three hours. She had to get to the airport before it was too late. The ticket was for flight 3357 from Duluth to Paris, France under the name of Margaret Milvinstein. She knew she had less than two hours to find the Oliver Cromwell Memorial Airport. If not, she would surely be identified and dragged into the midst of a complicated murder trial. This would indicate her whereabouts to those who would like to see her dead.

* * *

"Adonde," said the cab driver.

"I'm sorry, I don't speak Spanish."

"Adonde! Adonde!"

Jeanette knew that she was now in deep trouble. She had to think fast in order to remedy this situation. She immediately climbed into the front seat and opened the glove box. Just as she had expected, there was a notepad and a crayon in the compartment. She snatched these supplies and began to draw pictures accompanied by instructions in Sanskrit. She knew that it was a Minnesota state law that all taxi drivers be well versed in ancient languages such as Sanskrit.

"Here, look at this," said Jeanette, looking at the cab driver with pleading eyes and waving the paper to and fro.

"Ah, aeroplano, volar, si, si," said the cab driver with an understanding smile.

Jeanette spent the next twenty minutes enjoying a comfortable ride through Duluth. Since conversation was impossible with the driver, all she could do for amusement was to practice her Sanskrit. Finally, they arrived at the airport and Jeanette paid the driver $20 which she had taken from Ed. Once this payment had been made the cab driver smiled and said, "gracias," and drove off in a cloud of dust. Jeanette breathed a sigh of relief at the man's departure and turned from the roadway scurrying into the airport to board her long-awaited plane.

"We will now begin pre-boarding of flight 3357 with service to Paris at gate 10," bellowed the speaker in an evil mechanical voice.

"Well, that's me," said Jeanette. She grabbed her luggage and began to search for gate 10. After ten minutes, she still had not found the gate. She stopped in the gift shop and tried to seek help.

"Excuse me," said Jeanette. "Where would gate 10 be?"

Just then the man behind the counter turned around. He was a short, withered old man. He had an irritated look on his face as he answered Jeanette. "What do I look like, a travel map? Get out of here if you're not gonna buy something. I have bills to pay and you standing there asking for directions and taking up counter space isn't helping a damn thing!"

"Fine, you old creep, don't help me," said Jeanette angrily as she stormed out of the shop. Luckily, she soon stumbled onto gate 10 and boarded the plane. Just then the voice of the captain came over the airplane.

"We'll be taking off in five minutes. We should be landing in Paris at nine a.m."

* * *

"How you doin', little lady?" growled the stinking man.

Jeanette was startled, then frightened by this sudden outburst by this creature from the slime pits of the earth. What should she do? Should she answer back? Should she pretend that she didn't hear? This was slowly turning into yet another nightmare!

"Name's Festus," he continued. "I's from West by God Virginia. Ain't never been on one of these here arioplanes before. Say, yer kinda purty."

"Uh, that's nice," acknowledged Jeanette quickly.

"Well, what's a matter whicha? Ya sick or somethin'?

"Yes, I'm feeling a little nauseous at the moment," said Jeanette, trying to hold down her breakfast.

"Here's my coat fer ya. You lookin' mighty cold."

"No, thanks."

This broken conversation went on for the entire flight. Jeanette learned that Festus was an auto mechanic in a small town in southwestern West Virginia. He came from an inbred family of sixteen children, married his first cousin, had ten children of his own, bred beagle dogs, and had a passion for illegal cock fighting. From what Jeanette gathered, he seemed truly a graceful and charming man.

"Attention passengers! This is your captain speaking! We will be arriving in Paris in about ten minutes! Please fasten your seatbelts until the aircraft has come to a complete stop! We hope you enjoyed your flight! Have a nice day!"

Just then, the plane started to pitch irregularly from side to side. There was a harsh ripping sound coming from outside the rear of the plane. Screams rose up out of the cabin. Something was terribly wrong with the plane.

"ATTENTION PASSENGERS! PLEASE CALM DOWN AND ASSUME CRASH POSITION! SOMETHING IS WRONG WITH THE REAR LANDING GEAR! WE MUST PERFORM A CRASH LANDING!"

Just then, a huge jolt went throughout the plane. One of the engines burst into flame and the entire cabin went dark. Jeanette felt that she was going to die. She would die alone, with no identity and not a friend in the world save the toxic West Virginian beside her!

* * *

Around midnight, Eudora had driven her Bonneville to the brink of collapse. Her fuel tank was operating on fumes and her tires were smoking from unceasing speeds of 90 to 130 miles per hour. She knew she had to make a stop. She was about fifty miles past the border between Illinois and Iowa and she wondered if she would run across a gas station in the Iowa countryside.

Finally, after a nervous 45 minutes, she spotted a sign in the distance advertising Peetie Pie's Gas and Grub. It was only two miles ahead. At this, she raced the engine so as to pass the two miles quickly.

At length, she came thundering into the dilapidated old station at about 60 miles per hour and nearly toppled the Ethyl pump. She honked her horn incessantly, eager for service. Just then, a withered, greasy old codger came stumbling out of the shack with an irritated smirk on his face.

"Whaddaya want?" he demanded.

"Well, Mr. Pie," giggled Eudora in a mischievous tone. "Fill up the tank with ethyl and put it on my account."

"But of course, Mrs. Barnes," said the attendant. "However, I'm afraid I'm not Peetie Pie. He's in the rear of the establishment. Shall I summon him for you?"

"No, don't bother the dear fellow. Just be sure to give him these homemade chocolate chip cookies. I baked them just for him. Ta ta."

After bidding the attendant farewell, Eudora pulled out of the station to resume her hellish speed and munch on a pack of peanuts and drink beer. The Bonneville purred with satisfaction as it carried the drunk and angry Eudora closer to her destination.

* * *

Jeanette woke up in a circle of flames. She struggled to come to her senses. As she regained complete eyesight, she noticed bleeding bodies lying about the twisted, burning wreck of the airplane. Beside her lay the dirty man who had divulged his life story to her only moments ago. She was sure he was dead. Although she felt no remorse or concern of any kind for him, she cried as she slipped his wallet out of his pocket and unsnapped its chain from his makeshift belt. She knew she must leave this scene if she were physically able. Publicity was the last thing she needed at this point. She could feel every part of her body and virtually no pain. She knew she could escape. She made her way off the ground and began to run. At this point, she finally heard the screams of pain and sadness that filled the air around her. She ran and ran.

After nearly an hour of running, Jeanette came to L'Hôtel de Bob and asked for a room.

"C'est trente francs," said the desk clerk.

"J'ai l'argent ici," answered Jeanette as she removed the sum from the dirty man's wallet.

"Bien."

Jeanette went to her Paris hotel room and took a shower. After she had cleaned herself and brushed her teeth, she lit a cigarette and set out to see the sights of Paris. Her first stop must be the nearest museum.

As Jeanette strolled along the streets of Paris, she felt a new sense of freedom. She felt that she was in complete control of her destiny and that here, in this city of cities, she could achieve everything she had always dreamed of. Presently, Jeanette sighted an art museum. She went inside, and over the next few hours she wandered through the myriad passages fascinated by the beautiful works of art. When she made it back to the lobby, it was empty and the front doors were locked.

"Shit!" Jeanette exclaimed frantically while shaking one of the locked doors. "How the hell do I get out of here now?" She went down the row of doors trying to open each one, but to no avail. She was trapped. What could she do? Suddenly, it came to her. She would find a security guard! Surely this place had to have guards!

So Jeanette set off in search of a guard, and unlike so many things in her life this was not a challenge. She found one rather quickly.

"Hey there," she called to the man. "I've been locked in here. Can you let me out?"

The man turned around. "Ah, an American," he said in a thick French accent. He drew his revolver. Jeanette instantly froze with fear. What was this man going to do? "Go ahead," he said in his horrible English. "Make my day," with an horrible smile on his face. Jeanette ran like a scared child fleeing from the boogie man. The guard proceeded to empty the cylinder of his revolver towards the fleeing Jeanette, but lucky for her, he missed every time.

"Merde!" he exclaimed as he began to reload the gun.

Jeanette ran for her life. She desperately tried to hide, but she couldn't find any suitable place. What would she do? She heard the freaky Frenchman behind her, gaining. Just then, she spotted a storage room. The lights were off. She could ambush him! She ducked inside the room and grabbed the first object usable as a weapon, a bronze statuette. Sure enough, the man stopped at the room and entered, looking for Jeanette. He tried to find the light switch. It was then Jeanette took her opportunity. She struck him hard and fast with the precision of a mongoose killing a cobra. She heard the crack of the man's skull, and his lifeless body slumped to the floor with a dull, sickening thud.

The statue lay supine on the floor. It bulged with muscles. According to the sign in front of it, it was Priapus, Greek god of male generative power. Between the statue's powerful legs protruded a huge, erect phallus of approximately ten inches in length in a strange, mocking salute. Despite its exposure, the statue had nothing resembling a look of shame on its face. The reason for that was all too obvious. Instead, the statue's countenance was one of pure, unbridled lust. "This," said Jeanette, "is what a man should look like."

* * *

The huge red Bonneville thundered down the highway at lightning speed. Up in the distance a bold green sign jutted up from the side of the road. It read: Levi--ten miles. Eudora cackled.

PHASE THE FIFTH--PLAYING FOR KEEPS

Ready to drown in her tears, Jeanette ran from room to room screaming. Suddenly, her mind became void of all thought. She screamed and cried with only a desire to keep running and running. When she finally came to her senses she found herself standing on the museum parking lot staring toward the city lights of Paris.

"I must get out of here! I have to go home. I can't just keep running. There's simply nowhere to run."

"Ah, bonsoir," said the desk clerk cheerfully.

"Merci," answered Jeanette. She thought any idle chatter at this point might break her stride. She was determined to get up to her room and depart as soon as possible.

"Donnez-moi l'aeroport," demanded Jeanette.

* * *

Eudora tapped sedulously on the door of the weather-beaten shanty. "Rufus, help me!" she screamed urgently and maniacally.

Rufus opened the door. He looked at Eudora. "Uh, okay," he said.

* * *

"Where to lady?" yelled the cab driver.

"I hope you don't mind my saying, but you don't sound very Frenchy," said Jeanette.

"Well, it's like this. I was driving a shuttle bus on the Bronx Expressway when some shithead pulls a twelve-gage shotgun out of his coat and shoots me for no reason. So I came to France."

"Oh."

"Now, where to?"

"The airport."

"No problem."

After a quiet twenty minutes, Jeanette stepped out of the cab with a very American good-bye and headed for the ticket counter. She swiftly approached the front of the line and snatched up two tickets for a non-stop flight from Paris to Lincoln, Nebraska.

"Do you mind if I ask why you wanted two tickets?" asked the ticket lady in another surprisingly New York accent.

"Well, you wouldn't ask that if you would vacation in West Virginia," Jeanette replied.

Jeanette quickly boarded the plane and fastened her safety belt. The Rocky and Bullwinkle show was playing on the big white screen before her and she immediately began to enjoy it.

"We will be departing for Lincoln in three minutes," said a soft voice which flowed from the speakers in the cabin.

"Thank God," sighed Jeanette.

Momentarily, the plane took off. Jeanette took comfort in the empty seat beside her. However, this didn't last long. From out of nowhere she began to smell smoke in the plane. She began to think.

"Oh God, it can't be another crash. Wait, I've smelled that before. It's not smoke from a fire. It's cigar smoke. It's cheap cigar smoke," Jeanette thought.

From the seat behind her came an overbearing voice. "Hey babe, don't worry. So they got warm to us in Paris. Who would think of lookin' for us in Lincoln?"

Jeanette finally used her head. She sat perfectly still, never spoke and never looked back during the remainder of the flight. In several hours, the plane came to a screeching halt on American soil. Once again the soft voice filled the plane.

"We have landed in Lincoln. The temperature is 55 degrees under sunny skies."

Jeanette dared not move. She sat still and watched Ed Burger slowly march to freedom. After he was gone, she slipped out of her seat, grabbed her things, and headed for the nearest rent-a-car service. Little did she know that only a few hundred miles away the world as she knew it was changing.

* * *

The husky voice of Rufus and the frantic screams of Jeanette's relatives filled the living room of the Ashley mansion. Eudora and Rufus had just finished tying the vile old men to the larger pieces of furniture.

"Ah, finally," sighed Eudora. "Revenge is so good."

"Eudora!" Ellington screamed in a state very unlike his normal composed one. "Can't we talk about this? We made a mistake. We're sorry!"

Eudora threw back her head and cackled. "You mean to tell me that you clubbed me on the head and threw me in the river by accident? What a load of bullshit! You're going to pay, Ellington. You're going to pay the highest price there is! All of you are!"

And with that Eudora inserted several shells into her semi-automatic shotgun.

"Eudora!" screamed Ellington. "You're crazy!"

"Yeah," replied the old and angry woman. "Crazy like a fox!"

* * *

"Welcome to Lincoln, miss," said the man at the rent-a-car counter with a smile.

"Thank you. I need a car--something real big and ugly."

"Well, we have a rusty 1969 Chrysler Imperial. It's gold and the doors are stuck shut."

"That's perfect. Where is it?"

"Lot C."

Jeanette proceeded to lot C and threw her bags into the back seat of the wreck. She jumped in through the window, let out a yell, and took off thundering down the Nebraska highway. After a few miles she came to a vivid green roadsign. It said, "LEVI--130 MILES."

Jeanette knew at this point she had plenty of time to ponder what she would do when she finally made it back to Levi. Ellington must come first. The only way to handle that would be to sit down and talk to him. She must be firm but polite. It was time she laid down the law. He would never take advantage of her again. She was a woman now.

"Rufus will help me," she thought.

The old man had always liked her. He was always very kind to her in his own strange way. During the many times she had visited his shanty as a child he had always promised her help if she ever needed it. He seemed harmless, but she knew he could be forceful if he had to. He would make a great partner in the task of putting the men in their places.

Jeanette suddenly remembered a story Rufus had always told her when she would visit. It was about his army troop during World War II. He and his fellow soldiers Leo and Barné were on foot in the German Black Forest. They had unknowingly crossed enemy lines and were headed straight for the enemy headquarters. Inevitably, and encounter occurred. Rufus and his men held off and slaughtered 300 German soldiers but only after Rufus received a gunshot wound to the head, and Barné had half of his right leg blown off. With blood dripping from his head, Rufus heated his knife blazing hot and with a few bandages and an old hickory stick, had Barné back on his feet in less than an hour. They then proceeded to loot the headquarters of all the army equipment he and his friends could carry.

Jeanette suddenly came out of her trance. She was almost there. The scenery was suddenly familiar to her. Only a few more miles and she would be home. After nearly being forced off the road by a procession of police cars, she felt safe.

"From this point on, the law is on my side!" she exclaimed.

* * *

For once in her life, Jeanette felt strong. She knew what she had to do. She would deal with her horrid relatives and reconcile things with Phil. Presently, Jeanette entered the outer gates of the Ashley estate. The first person she saw was the gardener, the notorious El Chilito. The man looked strangely distressed, but not even the death of his entire family could suppress this man's powerful libido.

"Hey baby," said the greasy man. "You got some time to waste?" He then proceeded to grope Jeanette's bosom through her open window.

Jeanette had had enough of this man. For years, ever since Jeanette was thirteen, this vile man had made lewd, disgusting, and direct sexual propositions which left nothing to the imagination. She would take it no more.

"You disgusting son of a bitch!" Jeanette screamed. "What are you going to tell me now? That I'm really built?"

With that she grasped a large lead pipe lying in the floor of the ugly car and beat El Chilito until he was unconscious. She got back into the car and proceeded, feeling much better.

As Jeanette drove further and further into the Ashley grounds, she became more and more aware of a horrible din in the area of the mansion. She accelerated to reach the house faster and noticed police cars surrounding it. She immediately got out of the car and ran to the house. The whole place was in utter confusion.

Jeanette saw her aunt Eudora. She was stunned. Her aunt was supposed to be dead! But there she was, a policeman muttering her rights to her as she giggled hysterically and dripped with gore. Another policeman read Rufus's rights to him. He looked very sick and very messy. He looked like a man who had been butchering a very large animal. Jeanette tried to approach her aunt. She had missed her so much! However, the police would not let her through despite her urgent pleas and attempts to identify herself.

* * *

Over the past weeks, Phil had left Montana and come back to Levi to live in silent shame. He knew that some day Jeanette would come back to him. They had such a bond. They had shared such passion. He knew they would meet again, but never in this way.

Phil sat in an easy chair next to the fire. The shadowy flames danced and cast flickering light upon the stone walls. Jeanette lay in a deep slumber. It wasn't a disturbed sleep. It wasn't a pleasant sleep. It was just sleep. Phil spent the remainder of the night contemplating Jeanette's reactions. He planned his moves with the precision of an experienced craftsman. He mustn't lose her again, and with all this new complication, keeping her would be even harder.

The morning broke with a vivid yellow sunrise which was quite unusual for this area. Phil rose from his chair and fixed a pot of coffee. At smelling the aroma of the brewing coffee, Jeanette sprang out of bed and walked in a trance to the kitchen. After sharing a cup of coffee with Phil, things began to take shape. Suddenly she found herself standing in Phil Smithers' kitchen sharing coffee with the man she had cruelly dumped weeks before, all the while recalling the horrifying scenes of the previous night. She began to cry.

Phil spent the next hour comforting Jeanette and breaking the dreadful news to her as carefully as possible. As the story of the money plot, the St. John River, Mr. Felopez, and the big red Bonneville unfolded, Jeanette felt more and more relieved. All those who had ruined her life up to this point were gone forever. They could never harm her again. She rejoiced at this thought.

* * *

"Thank you ever so much, sheriff," said Eudora.

"Don't mention it, you crazy old bat."

Eudora had been playing insane all this time. In fact, she was in complete possession of her mental faculties. She simply needed an escape from execution in case her primary plan failed. She knew exactly whom to call.

She began to dial the governor's private phone number. It rang and he picked up the phone.

"Hello?" he said.

"Hello, governor," Eudora said cheerfully. "This is Eudora Ashley Barnes."

"Oh, Eudora! How are you? I haven't heard from you for such a long time! What can I do for you?"

"What? What are you talking about?"

The governor gasped. "What do you want me to do about it, Eudora?"

"I'm going to plead guilty to murder. I don't have a gnat's chance in Hell of being found not guilty. Then you come in. I want you to pardon me and my accomplice."

"Eudora! You know I can't do that! Don't you know how bad I'll look?"

"Right now, according to my will I am leaving your re-election campaign the sum of ten million dollars. If you don't pardon me, I'll just have that changed. I'll have a lawyer on hand at the gallows with a revised will ready for my signature. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Ms. Barnes."

"And you will pardon me ten minutes before I am to be hung?"

"Ten minutes? Why? Why don't I just pardon you before you go to the gallows?"

"Oh, I don't know. I kind of like the idea of cheating death. It excites me."

"That's sick, Eudora. Real sick."

"You have no idea, Governor. You'll do it, right?"

"Yes, Ms. Barnes."

"Good! Oh, and Governor."

"Yes?"

"I'm so glad I voted for you."

* * *

The mighty Levi rain poured down hard. Jeanette, hand in hand with Phil, gazed out of a large window at the unusually quiet and innocent Ashley estate.

"Get on some decent clothes and we'll leave."

Jeanette proceeded to dress and Phil walked out to the car to warm up the engine. "What a mess," he muttered.

While gazing at his love, Phil lost all perception of his surroundings. When he came out of his seductive trance, he found himself swerving off the road and headed for a tree. He quickly yanked the wheel away from the tree and came to a stop in a large corn field.

Over the next few hours, the two loved. They loved well. Each body movement had the precision of a hand-crafted motor. All the sweet memories of the past flooded back into the minds of the two lovers. They rolled and tossed from seat to floor, loving every minute of it. This was the way lovemaking was supposed to be. Everything was perfect this time. For the first time in her life, Jeanette felt clean inside. No longer was this act a trigger for shame and disgrace. She knew deep down inside that she was truly justified in her actions. With this, Jeanette knew that her life was now changed forever. This was real love.

"I need to see Eudora Barnes," demanded Jeanette at the front desk.

"Oh, you mean that loon they hauled in here last night for doin' a number on three old men?" asked the officer.

"Yes, that's her."

"One moment please."

A few minutes later the officer returned and directed Phil and Jeanette to a dim cubicle. Inside sat Eudora calmly.

"Hello, kids," said Eudora. "I guess you know what has happened by now."

"Aunt Eudora, you have to believe that we're on your side. I hated those men as much as you did."

"I know, dear."

"What are we going to do about you and Rufus?" asked Phil desperately.

"Don't worry, son. That will be taken care of."

The three proceeded to discuss the events leading up to the murders in great detail. They talked well into the night. Eudora finally disclosed her love for Rufus, and they laughed and talked until morning about what a cute couple they would make and what would occur the following day.

The dawn came early.

* * *

The scales of justice tip quickly in Levi. At ten o' clock the next morning, Eudora found herself in the Justice of the Peace's courtroom being arraigned for her crime.

"How do you plead, Ms. Barnes?" asked the hoary Justice.

"Guilty, your honor."

The audience gasped. Jeanette, despite her aunt's reassurances, burst into tears.

"Heh heh heh," the old man chuckled. "You know what that means, don't you?"

"Yes, your honor."

The old man smiled a gummy, toothless smile. "You think you can just go and cut up three of the most respectable men to come out of this town and nobody ain't supposed to say nothin'? Ha! I sentence you to death. That's right. By hangin'! Yeah, Eudora Barnes, you're gonna swing!" This strange tirade trailed off into weird coughing and laughter. Eudora was led back to her cell.

* * *

"Do you have any last requests?" asked the mayor in a gloomy voice.

They were silent.

"Any last words?"

After a few moments of silence, Rufus slowly cleared his throat. His voice could be heard for miles in the silence. He stood erect, fixed his eyes on Jeanette lovingly and began to speak.

"Jeanette, don't hate me for this," he said. He paused and noticed how forgiving her eyes seemed. With this comfort, he proceeded. "Jeanette, I'm your father."

"I love you, Rufus. Everything will work out."

With this, Jeanette turned away and two small black sacks were produced from the pocket of one of the men upon the gallows. As the sacks were being placed on the heads of Eudora and Rufus, a telephone rang in the distance.

* * *

* * *

It was a grand affair. The degree of ornateness was the same as Jeanette's preëmpted wedding to Dirk, but this was nowhere near that nightmare. Jeanette had truly found herself, and as she gazed into Phil's eyes before he kissed her as his bride she knew, oh yes, she knew that this was where she was supposed to be.

After the wedding, the two couples were cheered on by the residents of Levi. These people's stark change in opinion from yesterday could be explained by the fact that although the people of this quiet town may like a hanging, they would much rather attend a wedding.

"Get in," said the Reverend Zeke Hutchinson as he pulled up in front of the church in his 1967 Chevrolet pickup. The two couples got in. They were going to Hawaii. Jeanette had finally found happiness. The four laughed as the truck rolled off toward the setting sun in a cloud of blue smoke.

Logan, West Virginia

1991-1992

This is an original work of fiction, and the authors assert all rights, even though no one in his or her right mind would plagiarize this.

If you wish to express your feelings about this novella, please write to

Mr. Brian G. Crawford, M.A.

141 Nighbert Ave.

Logan, WV 2601-4019

or email bgcrawford.96@alum.dartmouth.org.

If you liked it, please send a dollar or two to support further, more legitimate literary efforts. If you didn't, don't waste too much ink on hate mail. We knew it sucked when we wrote it.