My My Little Prince Read online

  “Yes baby, take it easy,” she told him, “I’m an expert at this and I probably will do it better than anyone has ever done.”

  He looked at her suspiciously. “Well then, baby let’s have a sample and if you are as good as you say you are I just might let you live.”

  Sherine looked at him and smiled, “No need to be hostile, take it easy lover, I love sucking and we can both enjoy this if you put away your blade and just relax.”

  Shocked, he gave her a hard questioning look, trying to read if she is being straight and if it is worth the risk. After a few seconds he nodded, “Ok baby, let’s see what you got,” and he folded the knife. She noticed that he kept it handily in reach though, in a pocket on the door. He leaned back and said, “Let’s party.” He turned slightly to watch Michelle’s head bobbing up and down furiously on his partner’s dick. The guy’s head was back and his eyes were closed as he moaned.

  Grinning like a guy about to get a blow job he turned back toward Sherine. She already has his pants unzipped and his cock out. She smiled up at him and asked him, “so what’s the problem?”

  Sherine shook his limp dick a little and gave it a flick with her finger. She laughed, “Hey, anybody home in there little man?”

  Enraged, he grabbed her by her hair and jerked her head up to his, barely an inch from her face, “Come on bitch, get it up and if you can't I'll have to teach you to do a better job.”

  She tried to get him hard but he was not able to. “Come on bitch, get me hard or I'll kill you.”

  She really started to get nervous now and started sucking on his flaccid joint furiously. Finally, he became hard as he started moaning. She was going as deep as she could and gagged on his penis. Without being able to control her gag reflex she vomited vodka and her late lunch all over his crotch.

  The man started to scream. “I told you bitch that I would kill you if you made a mess and now you fucking puke on me?! You fucking cunt! Get the fuck out of this car.” They skewed left and right as he grabbed a handful of her hair. Sherine struggled but he was too strong. He slammed her head with his fist over and over again, the car nearly out of control

  Michelle was screaming now too and the driver yelled, “Throw that loud bitch out, throw her out now.”

  Gold Tooth pushed Michelle back and slammed a fist in her face as he reached over and opened the door. In a split second Michelle flew out as the driver turned a hard left. She flew out like she was doing a doing a belly dive. Arms akimbo, she dove chest first and slid in the gutter. The gravel and debris in the gutter tore at her clothes and the bare skin of her legs, and her left arm slammed into the curb. She crunched to a stop and lifted her scraped and bleeding chin just in time to see Sherine go flying out the front passenger door.

  An hour later …

  “Please relax, Sherine” ... “your name is Sherine, right?”

  Sherine’s eyes were swollen slits, she mumbled and tried to sit up, “Yeah, … no, I mean yeah …wait, … I don't know. Where am I!”

  A nurse held her by both shoulders and gently pushed her back down on the gurney, “Shh-shh-shh now, take it easy, You are in Merritt Island General Hospital, you’re OK. You’re in good hands and you are safe. You’re going to be alright.”

  Sherine struggled to sit up again but there was a sharp stabbing pain in her forehead; right between her puffy eyes. She fell back and panted but continued to writhe. The nurse gently daubed her forehead with a cool and anesthetic smelling cloth. “There there now, easy now …” she sang softly. After the pain ebbed a little, Sherine’s eyes started to focus a bit. She looked around and let her eyes converge on the nurse. “The hospital? What happened?”

  The nurse relaxed visibly at this slight return to normalcy and held a small plastic cup with a bent straw in it to Sherine’s parched lips. She slurped willingly and with enthusiasm. “We don’t really know what happened yet sweetie. We’re trying to find out.” The nurse tucked the crisp but blood stained sheets under her chin. “We were hoping maybe you could tell us. You were found unconscious along the side of Danbury Road. Your sister was a few hundred feet away from you and she is as dazed as you are.”

  Sherine’s eyes bolted open at this and she started to struggle again. “Ah-ah! Take it easy. She’s going to be fine. She’s in the next room over and if you’re good, I’ll wheel her in here to see you.” She tucked the sheets once more, paying attention to shove them tightly around Sherine’s arms too. “You both arrived here late last night. We found your phone and saw that you have several calls to Attorney Joe Gerrard. For us to treat you past your emergency phase we needed someone to sign the release. We called him and he is in the waiting room. He claims to be your fiancé. Is that correct?”

  Sherine’s eyes welled and she rolled her head to the side. She stifled a sob and asked, “Is this true? Is Joe here?”

  “Yes.” She responded gratefully. “Do you want to see him?”

  “Oh yes, oh please.” Sherine said, The tears flowed from her defeated eyes.

  A few minutes later, Joe walked in and rushed up to her bedside. “Sherine, my God you scared me. I thought you were going to die!” He held her poor face in both hands, “What happened baby? I almost went nuts. I cannot lose you now. I love you Sherine. We are to be married. Oh God Sherine, what happened? Whatever happened can never happen again. I will never leave you alone again!”

  Sherine cried with him, “I’m not sure. I … I don’t really remember. I was just walking with Michelle … to get some fresh air I guess. Oh, I don’t remember! There was a car, and men … two men. We were just walking and then there were the men … they, they forced us ... ” She struggled out of her linen straight jacket and held onto Joe’s hands madly. “ … that’s all I remember.”

  He held her tightly for a while and after she’d calmed he said, “Sherine, I’m so confused baby. The hospital said you had been drinking and that your alcohol level was high … extremely high, and that … and that you tested positive for narcotics.”

  Sherine looked up at Joe and somehow mustered the sense to say, “Joe, you know I do not drink much and I never get drunk.”

  Joe looked at her and said, … nothing.

  “Please Joe, just hold me and tell me that you love me”

  Joe looked at her with tears in his eyes. Compassion took over and he held her tender face again, “Yes dear, … yes of course!” He leaned over and gently took her in his arms and held her tightly whispering in her blood caked ear. “Oh Sherine, I am just so glad that you are here and alive. Don’t you worry about a thing now. I will call the investigating officer in the morning and we will find out who did this to you.”

  Sherine looked up at Joe gratefully and the tears started flowing again. She sobbed “Oh Joe I love you! Hold me Joe … hold me!”

  After a while her breathing steadied and she seemed to have fallen asleep, but as Joe delicately disentangled his arms her head turned to face him and she said softly, “Joe, what about Michelle? Where is Michelle?”

  “She’s right next door baby. Hush now honey and go to sleep. The doctors say she will be fine. They say she will be just fine.”

  Sherine’s head somehow sunk deeper into the pillows. She smiled, “Tha’s good, tha’s very good.” She was quiet for a bit and Joe was about to turn and go find the nurse again when he heard her muttering. He leaned closer to her.

  Sherine was smiling serenely and saying, “Joe, we did have a drink because we were celebrating. We were celebrating our wedding!” She rolled a bit to her side and stuck the tip of her thumb into her mouth. “Yesh, we, we celebrating Joe. Sorry though Joe. We were stupid. It was dumb of us. We were going to get some cigarettes for Michele … only going to be gone for a few minutes … “

  Joe stroked her hair out of her face, “It’s OK baby, now that I understand. Because you hardly ever drink, it only takes a few drinks to really effect you, that makes sense to me now.”

  He wanted that to be it. He desperately wanted there to be
no more, but he couldn’t help himself. He had to know. “Sherine, Baby, but what about the Xanax?”

  Sherine’s eyes bolted open. She started screaming and pitching wildly, “Oh, God I hurt ... tell the nurse! Tell the nurse I need something for the pain and I need it now. Nurse!” she screamed, “Nurse!” A startled Joe back peddled into the door and flagged down a nurse.

  When the nurse entered entered, she went into immediate action. First she rang an alarm. She began soothing Sherine and trying to take her vitals at the same time. Sherine calmed at her soothing touch. The nurse continued to take Sherine’s pulse and after she glanced at her watch she felt her forehead to see if she had any temperature, then she returned to her watch.

  “The pain. Oh my God the pain.” Sherine moaned over and over again.

  “We can't give you anything until you get another MRI. You have a subdural hematoma, a fractured wrist and arm. You will have another MRI in two hours.”

  Sherine grabbed Joe’s arms now and pleaded, “Oh my God, I need something!” At that moment her eyes fell back into her head and she began writhing on the bed while clutching at her chest. The monitor started a long steady howl and Sherine passed out.

  Another nurse came running in response to the alarm. She saw Sherine laying there as if she was dead and Joe crying and in shock. She yelled, “get the crash cart, get the cart now!” Within seconds Joe was rushed out and a team of doctors and nurses hovered over Sherine all working as fast as they could.

  A couple hours later, Joe was still in the waiting room when Evon walked in with Paul. When she and Paul arrived at the reception desk Evon asked the duty nurse stationed there, “Where is Sherine Hughes please, I'm her mother.”

  Joe was sitting in the waiting room and heard her. He walked over. “Hi, I'm Joe, Sherine's fiancé; you must be Sherine’s mother.”

  “Oh yes Joe, yes I am. So nice to meet you. Please Joe, where is Sherine? Do you know what happened? Is she going to be alright?” she asks in a rapid fire staccato.

  “She is still in Intensive Care I’m afraid. They do have her stabilized but she is still critical. I did get to see her for a few minutes, but she had some kind of cardiac event I guess it was and they kicked me out. Now she is not allowed to have any more visitors until after they give her a second MRI … if then, I guess it depends on the results. That should be any minute though. I mean the results should be in any minute, she already had it. Right now the doctor told me she is going in and out of consciousness. Evon, I must tell you, it does not look good.”

  “Oh my god … where is that doctor – I want to talk to the doctor … and Michelle, what about Michelle?” Evon asked.

  “Michelle is ok Evon; just shaken up pretty badly … no real injuries, so she will be released soon. I think they are just observing her. I was told that she can have visitors later but that she is fine.”

  Just then a doctor with a surgical mask pulled down around his neck walked out. He whispered something to the nurse standing there and she pointed to Joe and Evon.

  He walked over to them with his hand out and introduced himself to Joe and Evon. “Hi, I'm Dr. Chue. I’m the chief neurosurgeon here and I was called in for Sherine. I just looked at her second MRI and we need to do a surgery now. The bleeding is much worse and if we do not operate now she could … no, she will suffer irreversible brain damage. I am sorry to say, she may have already.

  “It is early and it is hard to tell much right now. She has a Glasgow Scale that is very low. They are prepping her now and she will be ready for me in about twenty minutes. I'll be out as soon as we finish and we’ll talk more then. Think good thoughts and keep praying. If we get in there in time, she could still be OK but, we have our work cut out for us ... ”

  Joe interrupted and said, “Doctor, you said she has a low Glasgow Scale?”

  “Yes, that is correct.”

  Joe asked, “What is that? What does it mean … er, measure?”

  “That is a scale we use in the ER to give a quick evaluation for head injury patients. A lower number indicates she has a lower response to sound, touch or pain. We are hoping for higher … the higher the better, you understand.”

  “Ok doctor, thank you so much. Please pull her through doctor, we will be here.”

  Four hours later Dr. Chue came back through the swinging door. He looked positively beat but he told Evon and Joe that the surgery went well. “ … but only time will tell how successful it was. She’ll be out for a while yet, but you should be able to see her in a couple hours if you keep it real short. But please, remember, she may not be conscious for hours or days.”

  The doctor turned and began to walk away, then stopped and turned back toward Evon and Joe and said, “You know, there was one thing that was different … ”

  “What?” Joe asked hopefully.

  “Well, it was strange, she required way more morphine than the average to put her to sleep.”

  Joe looked confused and said, “I don’t understand.”

  Dr. Chue looked into Joe’s eyes. He took a deep breath and asked, “Has she had a drug problem, or maybe even an alcohol problem in the past?”

  Joe immediately got a little defensive. He told Dr. Chue in an haughty manner, “No, never, not her, she hardly ever drinks and she never takes any drugs; not even for a headache. She will suffer a headache before she would even take an Ibuprofen.”

  Dr. Chue gave Joe a quizzical look and said, “Ok, just weird that she required as much morphine as a two hundred and fifty pound man that has been on heroin for years.” He tugged on an ear and wiped his tired eyes. “Yes, quite strange actually … weird in fact ... “He shrugged his shoulders. “Well, it doesn’t matter now I guess. The surgery went well and that is all that really matters.” He shook their hands again and then Dr. Chue turned and walked away shaking his head.

  30

  “I love my new identity; Dr. Pierre. I like the way it sounds and I love being a psychiatrist. It sounds kinda sexy and very distinguished. I will make a good psychiatrist. It’s not like I can’t identify sociopaths.”

  Dr. Pierre got off the bus near Avenida Duarte in Santo Domingo. It was late so the usual din that bounced off the school bus yellow tiles was missing, but the place had the usual smells; cheap fried food, body odor and maybe something a little ripe … humanity. As he waited for the driver to get his bag a young lady came on to him and asked if he would like some company.

  He took in tight dark curls poking through and around the blue plastic snap tabs of a ratty baseball hat. It was sitting backwards on an egg shaped head and then his gaze rested on yellowed eyes. He gave a little incredulous laugh. She stiffened visibly at this and rubbed her wide nose with the palm of her hand and sniffed. She had a vicious scar on her forearm. The raised welts of the old wound were a chunky blister and he admired these before he nodded and said, “Sure baby, how much?” He leaned over and picked up his bags.

  She looked him over like she was the runt of the litter; not sure what she could get away with. She licked thick brown lips, “Uh, three thousand pesos ... guapo”

  He barked a harsh laugh. “Cheeky bitch aren’t you? Are you freak’n crazy?!” He laughed again and looked her up and down. “You are not worth more than five hundred sweetie, and that’s because I’m feeling generous.”

  She looked at him, the hurt showing clearly on her face. She looked around at the growing emptiness of the bus station and sighed. Five hundred was better than nothing. She wiped her nose again and said, “okay,” and under her breath whispered ‘tacaño, five hundred.”

  He smiled and said, “That is more like it, come on, over there; the ‘baño,’ let’s go.”

  She stopped and raised her eyebrows, “here Señor?”

  “Do you want the five hundred or not?” They got to the dingy door and he held up a wait-a-minute finger and ducked inside. There was no one else there. He yelled back for her to come ahead and a second later she entered, her cheap heels echoing off dirty white tile.
r />   Instantly he was on her. He shoved her across the tiny space and as she bounced off the sink counter he quickly shut and locked the door.

  Grabbing her by the hair her hat fell off. He opened a stall door and began slamming her head into it three; four; five times and then shoved her inside and bent her over the seat-less porcelain bowl. She bucked and fought, her body twisting. One of her elbows caught him on the side of the neck, but it was nothing. She tried kicking back with her leg, but he was too strong. He forced her over and stood, applying all his weight, forcing her nearer and nearer to the pitching water

  She used both hands, pushing against the cold rim but he raised her and slammed her head into the lid of the tank. “No-o … plea…” Her voice was nothing but gurgle. He held her head under the water as she continued to struggle. She didn’t struggle long.

  His heart was beating so fast it was pounding in his ears. He lifted her enough to look into her face as water streamed off her nose and chin. He dropped her unceremoniously on the floor and stood up and arched his back in a gentle stretch. He kicked her with a toe, but she was dead. He was certain of that, he’d been there before.