Sick Fux by Tillie Cole
Rabbit leaned forward and stroked my cheek with his bloodied hand. His lip hooked as though he would smile. Then he grabbed my hand. He slammed our palms together and brought them up high. My eyes locked on the sight, and I felt the warmth from his blood mixing with mine. Rabbit moved his head closer and ran his nose over my forehead. “A pact, signed in blood,” he said and inhaled the mint shampoo scent from my freshly washed hair. “Your contract with me . . . telling me that you belong to me now. My little Dolly darlin’, your blood merged with mine. Your blood running with mine, through my veins, bringing me your light.” His nose ran down my cheek, and he smiled in victory. “And my blood now runs in yours. My darkness . . . my blackened soul polluting yours, bringing you over to my side. My Dolly . . . after all these years, mine. Succumbing to my will.”
“Yes,” I said dreamily, as I swayed, seduced by his words, by him being so close, skin on skin, sharing our blood.
I smiled and looked up at Rabbit looking down at me. “Always one.” I pulled him down to the bed, facing him, our hands still joined.
My eyes wandered to the blood on my hands, and my stomach suddenly fell. I squeezed my eyes shut when images began assaulting my mind. I shook my head when I saw things I didn’t want to see . . .
“Tie her down. Do it before she makes a fucking show and draws unwanted attention.”
A hand hit my face and my head spun. The taste of blood sprouted in my mouth. I blinked and looked to my left, and then to the right; the same face stared at me from both sides. Two identical sets of hands held my wrists. Uncle Jeffrey and Uncle Samuel. My identical twin uncles were pinning me down. I tried to see what room I was in. I didn’t recognize it. A door opened behind me, and I heard footsteps approach. But my head was foggy. My papa had given me a cup of tea. But the tea made me feel dizzy. It made my head all fuzzy and my eyes struggle to focus.
“Keep hold of her.” I looked down at my feet and saw my papa standing there.
Then I saw him. Uncle John moved beside me, and I shuddered. I didn’t like Uncle John. He came for me every night. I didn’t like what he did to me in the room opposite where Heathan used to be taken.
Before he left me.
My eyes filled with tears as I thought of his face. As I thought of his eyes. As I thought of—
“I thought you said she was on a shot or some shit?” Uncle John said to my papa. His hand came out and stroked my head. I hated his touch. I wanted to pull away. I tried, but Uncle John’s face snapped my way and his fingers wrapped in my hair. He yanked my head back to face him. He bent down. He made it so our noses were touching. Then he kissed me.
His free hand slid down to my stomach. I felt his hand on my bare skin. I was naked. My heart raced as I looked at my twin uncles pinning me down. At my papa talking to a man in white at the side of the room . . . at Uncle John petting my stomach.
“Too bad you can’t keep this, Ellis,” he said and smoothed his hand over my hair. “She would have been just as pretty as you. Blond hair. Blue eyes . . . pale skin.” He closed his eyes and smiled. My stomach rolled. “And she would have been mine. Mine to have. Mine to raise. My pretty half, Ellis.”
I didn’t know what he was talking about. I tried to think through the fog in my mind, but I couldn’t. “Don’t worry,” Uncle John soothed as he kissed my cheek. “The doctor is here to make it all go away.” He shushed me when I tried to open my mouth to speak. Panic filled me. There was a doctor? Why was there a doctor here?
Uncle John shook his head and pressed a finger over my lips. “You’ll only be asleep for a while. And when you wake up, things like this won’t be able to happen anymore.” He kissed my lips, and I tried to fight the grip of my twin uncles, but Uncle Jeffrey struck my face again, and the back of my head smacked against the table I was on.
I cried out as they tightened their grips on my wrists. “Think of all the fun we can have afterwards,” Uncle John said. My papa moved beside him and pulled him away by the arm.
A woman came from behind me, and I looked up into her eyes. They were brown. She had a green mask over her mouth and rubbery gloves on her hands.
“Help me,” I managed to whisper, ignoring the tears that fell down my lips. My mouth was dry. My tongue felt too fat in my mouth. But she looked away, took something in her hand. Then I saw a mask coming toward me. She pushed it over my mouth . . . the room began to spin as I breathed . . . then everything went black.
When I woke I was in my room. I tried to move, my body trying to get out of my bed. Confusion filled my head. But when I tried to move, a slicing pain from my stomach made it impossible.
“Ellis,” a soft voice called from the doorway. My bottom lip shook at the amount of pain I felt. Mrs. Jenkins came toward me with a cup of tea in her hand. She sat next to me on the bed. “Shh, sweetie,” she soothed. I cried harder.
“Mrs. Jenkins . . .” I rasped, my voice dry and my throat sore. “What happened? My stomach hurts. Everything hurts.”
Mrs. Jenkins brought the tea to my mouth. “It’s Earl Grey, sweetie. Your favorite.” I didn’t want the tea. I always wanted tea, but not right now. Mrs. Jenkins didn’t give me a choice. She tipped the liquid into my mouth. She made me drink it all. My throat felt better as the hot tea spilled down it.
When all the tea had been drunk, my eyes began to close. Mrs. Jenkins’s hand pressed against my forehead. I was nearly asleep, but I still heard Mrs. Jenkins place the china cup on my nightstand. Still felt her move my comforter down my body and touch something around the place my stomach pained me most.
Still heard her say, “A scar is a small price to pay for the comfort that you’ll never have babies, Ellis. That baby was better off not entering this world. It was the best thing for you both . . . best you can never get pregnant again . . .”
I gasped and ripped my hand from Rabbit’s. “I can’t breathe,” I cried. My hand flew to my chest and rubbed. But it didn’t help. So I clawed. I clawed at the place over my heart. It was beating too fast.
“Dolly.” Rabbit sat up next to me. But I needed to be off the bed. I jumped off the mattress, my nightgown hanging open. But I still couldn’t breathe.
“ . . .you’ll never have babies, Ellis . . .”
Scar . . . scar . . . scar . . .
I closed my eyes and propped my hand against the wall. I smacked at the side of my skull with my hand when I couldn’t get the nasty thoughts from my head. When I couldn’t get the voices out of my ears.
Ellis . . . Ellis . . . Ellis . . .Why were they calling me Ellis?
Sweat ran down my chest. I pushed off the wall and walked in circles, but the voices just kept getting louder. Uncle John . . . Uncle John . . . Uncle John’s voice . . .
Who was Uncle John?
“No.” I opened my eyes. I shook my head, backing against the wall. My nails moved down to my wrists and to my arms, clawing at the flesh. I clawed and clawed until the blood began to pour. I was covered in blood. So much blood. Mine. Rabbit’s . . . a baby’s . . .
“No!” I screamed and slumped to the ground. I threw my hands on the side of my head and began to rock. Why were they calling me Ellis? Ellis had a scar.
She had a scar!
I ripped my hands from my head and looked down. I wiped away the blood on my stomach with the material of my nightgown, soaking the white material with red. But then I saw it. I would never have noticed it if I wasn’t looking. It was almost not there. But I saw it.
I had the scar . . .
But Ellis . . . Ellis had the scar. Not Dolly. Dolly didn’t have the scar. The bad men had hurt Ellis. Her twin uncles and Uncle John . . . her Uncle John, the nastiest man of all.
Ellis . . . her name started to sound different in my head. Ellis . . . I closed my eyes as I heard different voices call that name in my head. “Ellis . . . baby girl . . .” her papa had said. “Ellis . . .” Mrs. Jenkins. “Ellis . . .” A boy, a boy wearing a hat. Then, “Ellis . . . that’s a stupid name . . .” Heathan.
My eyes snapped open. Heathan sounded like my Rabbit.
Rabbit . . . Rabbit . . . my Rabbit . . .
Two hands grabbed my arms, and I looked up. “Ellis . . .” I blurted, and Rabbit’s face paled. “Ellis can’t have babies.” A sob tore from my throat. “She had one, in her belly. But they took it out. They took it all out. No more place to keep a baby. No more blood every month. They took it all.” I choked on a cry. “They gave Ellis a scar . . .”
Rabbit didn’t say anything, but his hands shook on my arms. His face turned from white to bright red.
My hands raked across the scar on my stomach. “I have a scar, Rabbit. It’s there! I see it. Can you see it?” My head shook and too many images sprang into my head. A hallway . . . an office . . . a bed . . . Uncle John . . . Uncle John . . . Uncle John . . . Papa . . .
I clawed at my scar, but Rabbit threw my hand out of my way and looked down. A growl ripped from his throat, so venomous that I flinched away. “Rabbit, why do I have a scar? Why were people calling me Ellis? Why do I have a scar like Ellis . . .?”
Rabbit went dead still and locked his eyes on mine. His jaw was still tight, but he released one of my arms and lifted his thimble into the air. “I gave it to you,” he said. I didn’t like the sound of his voice. It was frightening. He hissed, eyes closing for a second. “I gave it to you years ago.” He tilted his head to the side, searching my eyes. “Don’t you remember?”
I shook my head and uncurled my body some from its place against the wall. “When? Why?”
“When we were little.” He swallowed, and a drop of blood fell from the cut on his neck. “We were having afternoon tea with the Mad Hatter, the Dormouse and the March Hare. I accidently dropped the teapot on the ground. You tripped and fell. A piece of the teapot cut your stomach.”
I racked my brain to remember. But I couldn’t. I couldn’t remember the faces of the Dormouse, the March Hare or the Mad Hatter. But I did like my afternoon tea . . .
“I don’t remember,” I whispered and felt my bottom lip quiver.
Rabbit’s angry silver eyes softened, and the hand holding the thimble moved to my cheek. His hand was shaking. I didn’t know why. “You hit your head,” Rabbit whispered back. He tapped my temple. “You lost some of your memory.” My heart felt sad at how sad he sounded.
I reached up and covered his hand on my cheek. “Don’t feel bad, Rabbit. I don’t remember, but I know you didn’t mean to hurt me.” I smiled, but it felt strange on my face because my heart still wanted me to cry. I fought against it. I was a champion, after all. “I am not mad at you, Rabbit. I could never be mad at my Rabbit.”
His eyes closed, and he inhaled quickly through his nose. When his eyes opened again, I sighed. “Rabbit . . . did all of that happen to Ellis? Did she have her baby taken from her? Did they take away the place in her tummy where babies live? Did they do that to her, even though she cried?”
Rabbit made a strange choking sound in his throat. But he nodded. His lips shook, still stained with blood. “I think it did,” he said, his voice catching. He cleared his throat. “Ellis was hurt real bad.”
I nodded and looked down. Tears fell from my eyes and splashed on the floor. “My Ellis . . . I am sad for my friend Ellis.”
“I am too.” He stroked his thumb across my neck. “Do you want some tea, darlin’? Will tea help you feel better?”
I smiled, even though it hurt my lips. “Yes please, Rabbit. Tea always helps.”
He stared at me without words, then my heart flipped in my chest when he leaned forward and kissed my forehead. His lips were soft, and they stayed, branding my skin for so many seconds that my cold skin began to warm. My hurting heart began to feel warm.
Rabbit never kissed me so gently . . . It confused me so.
But I loved it. I loved his softened eyes. They were like a bright sunbreak on a gloomy day. They made my heart flutter in my chest.
I watched him cross the motel room to the tea station I had set up as soon as we arrived. I watched him boil the kettle and place the Earl Grey teabag in the teapot and set out two china cups, one for me and one for him.
As the teabag steeped, he turned to me, and his eyes met mine. He paused only for a moment, then bent down and lifted me up in his arms. My head rested against his shoulder as he placed me on the bed and pulled the comforter over my legs.
He retrieved the tea and brought it to the bed. I smiled when I looked at the cake dish. “Strawberry tarts,” I proclaimed tiredly. My voice was husky from crying . . . from my sadness for my sweet friend Ellis.
“Your favorite.” He poured the tea. My legs were cold, but as soon as I tasted the sweet milky tea on my tongue, I felt warm. I closed my eyes, and I saw a blond woman in my mind. I saw her sitting on a chair in a pretty room, drinking tea with a blanket over her legs. She had dark circles under her eyes, but a little girl sat on her knee. Even though the woman was sick, she still smiled at the girl on her lap. The little girl was drinking tea too. I smiled at how happy the little girl was. I smiled at how nice the woman was.
She made me feel warm all over. She was so kind.
Then the little girl turned her head my way. Her blue eyes met mine. My heart skipped a beat. Tears filled my eyes, and my throat closed up. Because the little girl was . . .
“Ellis?”
Ellis smiled as I whispered her name. I had found Ellis. She was so young. No older than ten. Long blond hair. Big blue eyes . . . just a little girl.
Finding the strength to move, I waved, and Ellis waved back. She slipped off her mummy’s lap and came toward me. A lump clogged my throat. I had finally seen her. Finally knew what she looked like. After all these years . . .
I thought she looked a little like me.
“Dolly,” she said and smiled. She reached down and touched my hand.
I smiled at the tea she had just left behind. “You like afternoon tea too?”
She laughed, and I couldn’t help but laugh too. “Yes, so very much!”
“Only Earl Grey,” we said in unison. We laughed even harder.
Her smile fell. “Thank you for destroying the bad men.” She brought her hand to her stomach. Right where I knew the scar was. I forced myself to hold back my tears.
“I haven’t finished.” I reached for her hand. It was soft as I held it in mine. Her nails were painted bright pink too.
“No,” she said and worried her lip. She glanced back to her mummy. “My mummy is not here anymore.” I looked up and watched as her mummy disappeared before my eyes. “The tea,” she said. I watched as the walls of the bright, pretty room began to run with black paint. “I think the tea was making her sick.” Ellis turned to me. The blue dress she wore also began to turn black. “The men you will face next hurt me badly, Dolly.”
I nodded, now knowing how they did.
“You must make them pay.” Her hand slipped from mine as something unseen dragged her backward. A dark forest sprang up around us, and she faded away. “Only then can I be free,” she said, before she was gone . . . her sweet little voice was gone too.
I blinked and found Rabbit searching my face, his hand under my chin. “Dolly . . . Dolly, are you okay?”
I nodded and gripped the handle of my teacup. “I . . . I was talking to Ellis, Rabbit.”
Swallowing, he asked, “What did she say?”
“That I have to defeat the rest of the bad men.” My eyelids fell. “Because they hurt her the most. Only then can she be free.”
He nodded, then gently pulled me back to lie down, placing my teacup on the side table. His hand was wrapped around mine, and he watched me as I began to fall asleep. I heard the sound of card hitting card and opened my eyes. Rabbit was holding three cards in his hand. The three cards we had left. I sat up when I caught sight of one in particular.
“The men who held Ellis down,” I said, seeing the drawings of the twin uncles. “The ones who hit her face when they hurt her belly.”
“Tweedledum an
“Destroy them.”
“What?” I exclaimed. Rabbit’s eyebrows pulled down.
“I didn’t say anything,” he said.
“Destroy them, Dolly. For me . . . for us . . .” the voice said again.
I breathed deeply when I realized who had spoken. My head tipped to the side as she spoke. I nodded in understanding. Looking at Rabbit, I explained, “It was Ellis.” I tapped my head. “She spoke to me in here.”
“Wh-what did she say?”
I stared down at the card. At the drawing of Tweedledum and Tweedledee. And I smiled, tasting the remaining blood in my mouth. “To destroy them. To destroy them both . . . painfully.”
Rabbit’s nostrils flared, and he put the card on the side table. Gripping my hand, he faced me. “Then you shall destroy them, little Dolly. You shall have them all to yourself.”
I closed my eyes and sighed in relief.
Rabbit kissed my hand, and I drifted to sleep. I shall break them apart piece by piece, Ellis. I promise. Just hold on. You’ll be free soon . . . please.
Just hold on.
Chapter 12
Tweedledee & Tweedledum
Rabbit
Sunset had drawn in as we arrived in El Paso. Dolly was asleep, her head resting on her arm on the Mustang’s door. My hands tightened on the wheel as her confession about Ellis, about the scar I hadn’t even seen on her lower stomach, played in my mind. My stupid fucking eyes had been blind, enraptured by bloodlust, enraptured by at last having my little Dolly in the way I had always wanted her. I hadn’t noticed the fucking faint white scar that marred her perfect skin. Hadn’t picked up the evidence of what those dicks had done to her. It had been so much worse than what they’d inflicted on me.
Those cunts had knocked her up as a kid.
Those cunts had aborted a baby . . .