“Do it slowly, dear,” advised the wifford. “We don’t want it to break…yet.”
Terror gushed in Zack’s mind. The two wreccans had tied him down to the table with thick hemp. One of the wreccans was new, the other was the brëowor. They stood aside now, behind Maedeen and Wendlyn. Zack fought against his restraints, but only abraded himself for his efforts. They’re sticking a glass tube up my cock, came the base fact in thought. And they’re going to break it. This was his punishment.
“You were going to fuck her, weren’t you?” asked Maedeen, the wifford. Her voice was as stony and cold as her face.
“No,” Zack groaned. “I swear. We made out a little, that’s all. I wasn’t gonna do anything more.”
“No?”
“I swear!”
“He’s lying, Mom,” remarked Wendlyn, the dother. She held his flaccid penis gently in one hand, and the end of the glass tube with the other. Very slowly, she slid the tube in another inch.
“Please,” Zack’s voice tremored.
The wifford crossed her arms, appraising him. “If you had fucked her, you would’ve tainted her. You would’ve tainted the holy fulluht, ruined it.”
“But I didn’t!” Zack shouted. “I didn’t!”
“He would’ve, Mom. He’s a pig. He’s a peow.”
“I know, dear.”
Zack felt the hemp burn his wrists as he squirmed.
“Nis woh fo gast be mek a peow?” said the wifford. “Give lof, no? Be folclagu, ur godspellere, iesprece.”
“We should do it, Mom,” the dother persuaded.
“Voelian thus wer, thus peow?”
“Please,” Zack groaned. “I would never disgrace you in the eyes of—”
“Shut your mouth!” the wifford exploded. “Never, never, speak her name, you unworthy piece of shit! Never!”
Zack shuddered, but he better not shudder much, or else he might break the tube himself. The other two wreccans seemed to strain against an inner anguish but remained out of the way. They wouldn’t help, Zack knew. They couldn’t.
Now the wifford smiled. Her gaze moved from Zack’s face to his genitals. The dother pushed the tube in another inch.
“Aw, Mom, let me do it.”
“Well…”
“Mom, pleeeeeease?”
Zack’s body felt coursing with high tension current. The young dother licked her lips in steady concentration as she deftly slid the glass tube still deeper into his urethra.
“You’ve been a bad boy, Zack. But this will make you good.”
Zack’s terror made him feel stretched over a bed of nails. He fought not to shake. The tube had now been inserted over four inches into his penis.
“Zackie, Zackie,” chanted the dother. She was swaying the tube back and forth and spinning it between her fingers. “Can I break it now, Mom? Can I?”
“Put it in a little deeper first, dear.”
The dother did so. How much further could the tube go?
“Please, please don’t,” Zack murmured.
“Now, Mom?”
“All right, dear, but let’s make it suspenseful. On the count of three, break the tube.”
“Okay.”
“Ready?”
“Yeah, Mom.”
Sweat popped out of Zack’s brow. Every joint in his body felt fused.
“One,” said the wifford.
Zack’s teeth ground.
“Zackie, Zackie,” sang the dother.
“Two.”
Aw no holy Christ please…
“Two and a half…”
Zack could feel the tube embedded down the entire length of his limp penis…
“Three!” shouted the wifford.
Zack screamed.
Laughter raced ’round the room like mad animals. In one quick movement, the dother—
Nooooooooooooooo!
—withdrew the tube without breaking it.
Zack turned to putty. The wreccans cut his bonds and pushed him off the table. Zack, wheezing, fumbled to pull up his pants.
“Thank you thank you,” he gibbered.
They were walking away, but the wifford turned at the door. “Melanie is special,” she said. “Very special. Remember that, or next time we’ll break that tube into so many pieces you’ll be pissing glass for a year.”
—
Chapter 20
Ann waited up late. What would she say? And could she be sure that it was Maedeen she’d seen in the car with Martin? But she didn’t worry about such reasonable considerations. Ann was mad, and she let her anger sit up with her.
Furthermore, Melanie hadn’t come home yet either, which made Ann madder. The grandfather clock in the foyer ticked past 10 pm. Where could she be at this hour? What was she doing?
That afternoon she brought the B-12 to Milly and hadn’t mentioned what she’d witnessed Rena doing on the bed, as she’d previously decided. By then she was too mad to care anyway.
She couldn’t imagine Martin’s fascination with Maedeen. The little scrub. Ann had seen how Martin was looking at her the time they went to the store, and was well aware of her tendency to misinterpret certain things. Was she just being paranoid?
I’d still like to drag her little ass down the street.
She sat in the quiet library off the foyer. The silence and dim lamplight made her feel watched. Earlier her mother had been seen going down to the basement with the photo albums. She’d unlocked the basement door, entered and exited, then locked the door and headed back upstairs. She’d said nothing to Ann as she’d crossed the landing, which was typical. But why lock the basement door?
Again, at this moment, Ann didn’t care. All she could think about was how bad she was going to grill Martin’s ass when he had the nerve to come home.
She thought she’d pass time watching TV, then remembered her mother didn’t approve of television. There were no TVs, in other words, in the house. She hadn’t noticed one in Milly’s house either. Did Lockwood consider anything modern to be a corrupt influence? She wandered about the quiet house, each journey bringing her back to the front window where she’d peek outside to see if the car was in the driveway yet. But what was she really thinking? That Martin and Maedeen had something going? Even Ann knew that was ridiculous. She just didn’t like Maedeen, for her own womanly reasons, and she didn’t care what Milly said. Sometimes a woman could just tell, could sense a woman who was trouble. The little flirt, she dismissed. Silly earth-mother-looking hippie. And Martin didn’t have to be so quick to assert that Maedeen was “nice.” I’ll show her nice, Ann mused. Maybe I’ll shove one of her homemade ice cream cones up her scrawny ass. See how nice she is then.
By 11 pm, Martin and Melanie still had not returned. Ann’s mother had long since gone to bed. Bored now in her anger, Ann went upstairs to talk to Milly but instead found Dr. Heyd in her father’s room.
“Ah, hello, Ann. You’re up late, aren’t you?”
“I’m waiting for Martin. He went out a while ago.”
Dr. Heyd made some nameless adjustment to the cardiac monitor. “I think I saw him going into the Crossroads earlier. I understand he’s getting along well with some of Lockwood’s men.”
And some of Lockwood’s women too. But was that where he was? At the bar? “He mentioned some of them yesterday,” she said.
“Fine fellows, all of them. If you’re looking for Milly, she’s asleep in the next room right now. The poor girl hasn’t gotten much rest these past few days. I sent her to bed. I’ll be looking after your father tonight myself.”