“As soon as possible,” I tell Mary.
“How about Tuesday, after Labor Day?”
“Sounds good to me.”
“You’ll work Mondays, Tuesdays, and Wednesdays, and your schedule will be 6:00 p.m. until 10:00 p.m. and 12:00 p.m. until 3:00 p.m. on Saturdays. How does that sound? That way you’ll still have a social life.”
“It sounds great to me. Thank you.”
“No problem, I was young once, too. I need you to complete an application and tax forms.”
After I finish up at Mary’s, I drive back to my new home.
The town of Montgomery, West Virginia consists of government offices, a library, pharmacy, general store, grocery store, café, pizzeria, an attorney’s office, an insurance agency, a child development center, a sheriff’s office, and hair salon. Montgomery Academy is on the outskirts of town. Locals have to travel to Charleston, Virginia for doctor appointments, clothes shopping, and other activities.
My mom and Michael are home when I arrive.
“Mom, where are you?” I call when I enter the front door.
“I’m in the dining room, baby.”
Michael and my mom are sitting at the dining table with their laptops.
I sit in the chair next to my mom, facing her. “I found a job, Mom.”
“Congratulations, honey.”
“Wow, you found a job in three days,” Michael says. “I say this is cause for celebration. I’m taking you both out to dinner, my treat. I know a nice Italian restaurant in Charleston.”
Michael is the best stepfather I could’ve asked for.
“Thank you, Michael.”
“You deserve it kiddo. You’ve been a trooper.”
John and I are having an obligatory father and son dinner at an Italian restaurant in Charleston. If I occasionally do what he wants, he stays out my way most times, just how I like it. I’m twirling my fork in my shrimp linguine when I see Mr. Thompson approaching our table.
“Judge John Carter, it’s nice to see you,” he says, coming to a stop in front of the table.
John pastes on his fake award-winning smile as he stands to shake Mr. Thompson’s hand. I look just like John, and I hate it. To the citizens of Montgomery, West Virginia, he’s a God who can do no wrong, a pillar of the community, and a role model. He’s a charmer with Ted Bundy characteristics. Only a few people know him as the monster he really is. A wolf in sheep’s clothing. He’s an abuser and a sexual sadist, and I’m just like him. It’s true what they say— the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree. I like to hurt and control people because I’m fucked up just like the bastard who sired me. I have no conscience. I feel no empathy or sympathy for others. I’m incapable of love. A psychologist would have a field day inside my head.
John beat the shit out of my mother. Afterwards he would beat the shit out of me. My mom committed suicide to escape the bastard and left me all alone to face his daily abuse. My mother’s family abandoned me after her suicide. I haven’t heard or seen those motherfuckers since my mother’s funeral. I wonder, do they ever think about me? They knew what my father was, but they left me to fend for myself. No one questioned the bruises that decorated my body, all believing the lie that I was just a clumsy kid. I was afraid to go home every day after school, not knowing what torture the monster would inflict on me. My body was John’s punching bag.
I received creative punishments for any slight I supposedly committed, as perceived by John. Being locked in a small dark closet, kneeling on rice, standing on one leg, or holding my arms out in front of me with bent knees were some of the punishments I endured. If I dropped my leg or arms, the punishment would be ten times more severe. Crying was considered weak by John, so I learned not to cry or risk inciting his fury further. The nightmares I used to have at night took a toll on my young mind. The last time my father dared raise a fist at me was two years ago. I broke his fucking jaw. He can’t beat me anymore, he doesn’t even try. He knows I’ll fuck him up. It’s him who’s afraid of me now. Oh, how the tables have turned.
“Michael, it’s nice to see you too. Did you get back recently?” John asks.
“I arrived three days ago to start orientation. Judge Carter, I don’t mean to interrupt your dinner, but I would like to introduce you to my wife, Kelly, and my stepdaughter, Cocoa.”
“Nice to meet you,” Kelly says, followed by her daughter.
“The pleasure’s all mine,” he says as he shakes both of their hands.
Cocoa is like the sun, with beautiful caramel skin and golden eyes. She makes my dick hard. I shouldn’t want to fuck someone so far beneath me. Her burgundy shorts are hugging her thick thighs, and her breasts are round and full. My hands can span her waist. I want to cause her pain and leave her broken when I’m done.
I know it kills John to shake Cocoa’s hand, but he has to keep up pretenses. He doesn’t like black people or any other race for that matter, and neither do I. It’s been drilled in my head since I could talk, that white people are the superior race.
“Congratulations are in order.”
