Free Waiting and Watching by Darcy Darvill Page A

fantasy.
    Martin danced her roughly over to the bed and pushed her down backwards. Oh God. It’s going to happen. With one knee firmly wedged against her stomach so she couldn’t move and could hardly breathe, Martin pulled a long shiny knife out from under his robe. Slowly, but with enough pressure to cut through her dress, he ran the knife along the fold of her breast. “Did you like it rough with your nigger stud?” he asked, sneering down at her.
    Connie was squirming and turning her head so she couldn’t see the twisted smile on Martin’s face. As Martin taunted her with the knife, he said, “You’re so pathetically stupid, Constance. You thought you came from the perfect family. Your mother was an idiot and your father was a womanizer,” he said bitterly.
    â€œMartin, you know both of my parents really cared for you.”
    â€œOh sure,” Martin said. “Until they adopted that little wetback. Then the fatherless kid next door was out of the picture. Did you know the father you worshipped was cheating on your simple-minded mother? She was so busy feeding the poor and hungry that she didn’t even get the fact that her bookish psychiatrist husband was banging every slut in town.”
    Connie breathed deeply in an attempt to keep herself focused. She knew Martin was a ranting mad man, and if she didn’t escape soon, he would have his revenge. Her only strategy was to play for time in the hope that something would distract him and she could run. She didn’t believe anything Martin said, but she needed to keep him talking. “Tell me what you know about my father cheating on my mother. How do you know that’s true?” Connie feigned interest, not believing any of his pathological ravings.
    â€œEveryone knew about your father. It was all over town. People talked behind your backs and felt sorry for you. They also talked about you and your colored boyfriend, and how your bleeding liberal parents approved and even liked him. They had the audacity to invite his parents into their home. Yeah. Your family was the joke of the town—your dim-witted mother, your cheating father, and your shit-brown brother.”
    Martin started laughing that high pitched laugh. The vulture started squawking again, and Connie couldn’t stop shaking with fear.
    â€œDid you kill my parents?” Connie asked.
    Martin continued to laugh. “No. I can’t take credit for that, but whoever it was did the whole town a favor. You and your family were bringing the neighborhood down. First it was that nigger family moving in and then it was the darkie-lovin’ Harrimans.”
    Connie heard a door bang shut, then the sound of footsteps running up the stairs. Martin didn’t seem to notice. Connie feared it was her imagination until they both heard Nola’s voice yelling for Martin. Oh, thank God, Connie thought. “Nola, help me!” she screamed.
    â€œStay out, Mother!” Martin yelled. He turned and Connie grabbed hold of his arm to keep him from ostensibly locking Nola out. He backhanded Connie, forcing her to let go of his arm. He made for the door, but it was too late.
    The door opened and Nola rushed into the room. “Junior, what’s going on in here?”
    â€œNothing, Mother. Connie and I were just dancing for old time’s sake. We’re enjoying what should have been, aren’t we, Connie?”
    â€œHelp me, Nola!” Tears ran down Connie’s cheeks. “Martin has a knife!”
    â€œMartin, give me the knife,” Nola demanded, holding out her hand. “You don’t really want to hurt Connie, I know you don’t.
    He hung his head, and after a moment, put the knife in Nola’s hand.
    Nola looked with concern at Connie. “I’m so sorry, dear. Are you okay?”
    â€œYes, I think so.” Connie sat up on the bed and looked warily at Martin and then at Nola with growing anger. “Thank God