Thoughts from Mark "Hat" Rackley

I’m Pink Lady Apple Yeggs and my friend, and brother-in-law, Deviled Yeggs suggested that I record each project that I set up in the hopes of reforming the people who continue to work for Lily the Pink Enterprises.  If for no other reason, it would show how God is at work.

It was Sunday after church.  In my office, I had Joseph and Mary, Deviled and Naomi, and two local business people.  Priscilla Standish ran a pharmacy down the street from our truck entrance.  It happened to be the pharmacy where Tamara Collins worked.  And John Olden was Bart Clarkson’s boss, since the boss between them had been killed along with 29 other people.  That murder was recorded in the report, Stacked like Cordwood.

Dev told Naomi what had happened, including how the one intended victim escaped the death trap.  Bart Clarkson was the intended victim, but his wife Shawna, and her cohorts, Emma and Todd, did not mind killing 30 people, poisoning them with propane that was not scented with mercaptan.  Bart Clarkson escaped before he had gotten too sick.  The bartender of the party was outside the enclosure where the gas was (a racquetball court with a glass back wall).  She made love to Bart as they saw everyone else breathe their last.

That is a lot to think about, and here these two had moved in together.  They had not even known each other a little over a week ago.  Polly first, and then Dev and Naomi saw a few red flags go up.  Joseph Jones and I did too.  This was not police business, but Dev hated loose ends after a case, especially when witnesses and others become traumatized.

I explained all the details to those in attendance in that Priscilla and John did not know anything other than their employee was involved and survived.  They had each, independently, given their employee time off, which may have encouraged them to escape in a romantic dreamworld.  Polly Pulice went to Bart’s house to tell him that their presence was requested at Lily the Pink.  They did not have to come, but their respective bosses were waiting on them.

They did not want to come, but with their bosses at the meeting, they felt they had to go.

But while they were on the way, I got to know our special guests.  I already knew Priscilla Standish.  Lily the Pink had used a pharmacy some distance away, but the remote pharmacy allowed someone from security to pick up medicines for whatever lady was ill.  Now that we were free, we continued to go there until Asha arrived from Africa.  Jochebed went to the Standish Pharmacy to get medicine for Asha, since it was walking distance, and she did not drive yet.  Then when Kanok had a little bug after she got here, Scrambled dropped by the local pharmacy instead of ordering from the usual place.  I had since met Priscilla a few times and teased her that Priscilla Mullins married John Alden instead of Miles Standish in the Longfellow poem.  She explained that her husband was not named Miles nor Myles, and she was named after the Apostle Paul’s tent making friend.  And before I asked, her husband was not Aquila either.  But here our other guest is named John Olden.  This was too good to pass up.

I asked, “With my friend Priscilla Standish here, it is too coincidental that your name is John Olden.  Could you have an Alden in your ancestry?”

John turned crimson for a second, “My great-grandfather was not educated.  He misspelled my grandfather’s name on the birth certificate.  It should be Alden, but no, I have never met Ms. Standish until now.  But I am only here to see how Bart Clarkson reacts to the situation you will lay out.  We have no morals clause in our employment system.  After what happened, we probably should, but I hire people from various religious backgrounds, quite often people with no religious background.  I personally attend my little Catholic church regularly, and I like to hire Catholics.  But there seem to be fewer and fewer of those these days.  But if Bart can make a decision that will be from a very emotional circumstance and make a rational decision that might be best for both of them, then I can trust him to manage these projects that remain on the books for a department of the company that no longer exists.  Bart will not have me to help him.  My company is suddenly short twelve people.  Shawna was not a degreed engineer, but she had, in the past two years, become invaluable as an environmental expert.  And how do you replace an entire department of your company?  Those men were my friends, and I am busy with vacancy announcements when I need to grieve myself.”

Priscilla said, “Pink, I welcome your business, but I might not have when this was a brothel here.  We are a neighborhood pharmacy that is family oriented.  We have middle-class families on one side, the rich part of town on the other, and we have the convenience of being in a commercial and light industrial area, so workers use us.  We do have a morals clause with our employees to not do anything outside work that would embarrass our little group.  It is bad enough that Tamara signed up to be the bartender for this party.  With the price they were paying, she must have known it was something illegal.  But then, to move in with the sole survivor of a massacre breaks that clause also.  I am very much interested in how she can defend either of those decisions.  But in knowing you, and talking to you earlier, I intend to show mercy.  Besides, I am not sure if the clause can be enforced if it becomes a legal issue.  For one, I want to stay out of the news.  I do not believe that any publicity is good publicity.  That’s why the clause is there in the first place.”

At that moment, Missy called.  “The package has arrived.”  I told her to send them in.

Polly ushered in Tamara Collins and Bart Clarkson.  They were both well-dressed.  Tamara had a cute wig on.  I might have never thought of it as a wig if I did not know she was bald underneath.  I suddenly noticed that youth had a way of washing out the imperfections in life.  She was a beautiful young lady.  Bart was clean-shaven, and he had a certain boyish handsomeness.  He had a medium build, not skinny, but definitely not muscular.  They took the seats that were offered.

Polly asked, “Do you need me here?  I raised my concerns, and this meeting was put together as a result.  But my partner is still in the hospital.  Her parents are with her, but the hospital waves their rules about one visitor at a time when I walk in.  I don’t know why.”

I nodded and was about to say she could go, but then I realized she was talking to Lt. Deviled Yeggs of homicide.  Dev said, “Tell Ruthie that our thoughts and prayers are with her.  And I think you know why you can make things crowded in a hospital room, Holy Terror.”  Those that knew how she had challenged the ER doctor who eventually saved the life of her former partner, Guy Weiss, snickered.  The others looked at her and probably thought that she did not look like a Holy Terror to them.  But Polly brightened; she thanked everyone and was gone.

Mary asked, “Should I stick around?  My film editors wrecked an episode, and I need to fix some things.  I am neither police nor a counselor, just married to one.”

Joseph said, “Pink may not need you here, but I like my bride close by when I get that opportunity.  Everyone here is keeping this meeting in confidence, and that includes the renegade member of the media that I am married to.”  Then they held hands and smiled at each other.

Bart asked, “Is this being recorded?”

Dev replied, “No, but should it be?”

Bart looked at the floor, “Never mind.”

I smiled and made introductions around the room.  I did not know if John had met Tamara or if Priscilla had met Bart.  And of the others in the room, they had only met Lt. Dev Yeggs.

Bart then asked, “Oh, Polly brought us here in her car, I guess a police sedan.  We don’t have transportation to get back home.”

I said, “We will worry about that later.  If no one here wants to drive you home, I will have one of my drivers take you.  A lot may be discussed here, but the final decision will be your own.  I would like to start with a brief description of how you two got together, at least as I was told.  I will mention the concerns that people who love you have about this situation.  I then wish to hear your story.  Do not leave anything out.  Lt. Yeggs will not get upset if you provide a detail today that was not in your report to him.  That is natural to remember a detail after the initial trauma has subsided.  And then, I will open the floor to any others, especially Priscilla and John, who might wish to add something.”

Everyone nodded.

I started, “On the day in question there was a party that had been planned between Emma, the group secretary, and Envy Apple, the madam of the local brothel and wife of Empire Apple, the head of the Rotten Apple Gang.  Envy thought this was a basic Dance Orgy, planned to look like one spontaneous disrobing after another.  She was the lead woman, and the boss of the group was to keep everyone dancing until all were disrobed.  As the couple went onto the floor for various reasons, they came into contact with what Emma had set up, a steady supply of unscented propane.  The symptoms of propane poisoning are headaches, nausea, dizziness, eventually death, but Emma also added some hallucinogenic.  There was only one real intended victim, Bart Clarkson.  We will not belabor what was going on, but there were 19 women and twelve men, naked, doing their thing, when Bart Clarkson either got a moment of conscience or too sick to continue.  Mr. Clarkson escaped the death trap, helped by the disc jockey who was just joining the melee and the bartender, Tamara Collins, who was outside the death trap.  About that time, Envy must have called for her ladies to assist her, but as they moved unwittingly to the source of the gas, everyone in the room was overcome.  In the meantime, Tamara pulled you behind the bar.  Both of you watched in horror at what was happening, unable to help, in that neither of you can stand up, the health club personnel had already left, and you did not have your phones.  Tamara starts cleaning you up from the vomit, and Tamara notices that you have a stiff thing.  And she mounts you.  You only wake up from passing out when the cleaning crew shows up.  Tamara gets dressed, but they had to find clothing for Bart, since his clothing was in the death trap.  The fire department carefully removed the gas without an explosion, and you gave statements to the detectives.  The next day, you both arrive about the same time to sign your statements.  By this time, Shawna Clarkson, Emma, and Todd have all been arrested for multiple crimes.  Bart had spent a night in a hotel courtesy of a police fund.  But when you each leave after signing your statements, you go home with Bart or you follow him to his house, since the back entrance is not part of the crime scene.  Over the weekend, Shawna, Emma, and Todd are executed in transit to the state prison.  It is thought that the Rotten Apples are involved, but no concrete proof.  Without need of preserving the crime scene at the Clarkson home, Polly Pulice returns to find the two of you continuing what you were doing behind the bar.”

I took a breath.  I needed one.  “Now, Polly was concerned.  You two claim to have just met at the party.  You both suffered deep trauma watching thirty people die.  Tamara claims to have never had sex before and her being so bold may have been the hallucinogenic mist in the air or your recent cancer treatment giving you a clock ticking urgency.  Now, it is possible to be sick and the act of such activity causes the endorphins to flow and you momentarily felt good enough to continue.  So, that might have consummated the act and then passed out.  But Bart said a couple of times that he thought he had sex with a man.  Tamara had removed her wig for some reason.  But continuing this relationship when you do not know much about each other seems like a psychological reaction.  You may not be in love as much as you are repeating what you did behind the bar to erase the memory of what else happened.  Or you feel that connection as a solace for what was lost.  Naomi is the psychiatrist here, at least she has that doctorate among many other disciplines.  Joseph is our resident chaplain.  But what we are afraid of is that the two of you are not seeking counseling, except in each other’s arms.  That is not going to last, and when a rocky patch hits, you will have a harder time recovering from the trauma because you have not dealt with this one.  I have been asked to initiate these discussions because this complex was once a brothel. Many of the longtime employees were prostitutes that I taught a trade, that is, making apple cider, in their off hours.  And since our emancipation from our slavery, I have a steady stream of ladies that just want to talk.  I am used to that kind of topic coming up in discussions.  Joseph has been here long enough to have Mary marry him, and he is accustomed to such discussions.  I could offer our services unless you have a counselor in mind.”

Bart asked, “So, you are not trying to break us up?”

I shook my head, “There are many ways to handle it.  Tamara could go back to her apartment…”

Tamara said, “No, we went to my apartment and cleaned everything out.  I turned in the keys and the landlady said she already had someone available.  I sold my car since Bart could drop me off at work on his way to the office.”

Priscilla said, “But, Sweetie, that sounds even more like burning your bridges so that you do not deal with the trauma.”

Tamara shook her head and somehow her wig slipped off.

Priscilla said, “You had peach fuzz on Friday.  Did you shave your head?”

Tamara had tears in her eyes.  “Bart said a couple of times that I looked like a guy.  My breasts aren’t really big, and one has a big dimple due to the lumpectomy, but he should have noticed I was a woman.  But then, with clean minds, we undressed, and I removed my wig.  He saw me for what I am.  I am barely twenty-one.  My father was a bartender and when he died, I took over for him.  No one asked for my ID.  I was the one asking them for theirs.  After a while, the bar said they would get in trouble, so I started freelancing and I took the pharmacy tech certification course.  But now, just as soon as I can legally be a bartender, I got cancer.  The insurance that Standish got for us is great, but there is a lot they didn’t cover.  I sold my car and moved in with Bart to help get my bills paid.”

Priscilla said, “We would have set up a go fund me page or something.  You didn’t say anything.”

Tamara said, “I didn’t want to make it sound like the insurance wasn’t good enough.  You are a great boss.  I need the job.  But maybe Pink Lady is right.  I feel this deep desire that I need Bart also.  But I really never had a boyfriend.  In high school, I was a wallflower, introverted, stayed to myself.  My older sister slept with every guy in the school, and I think me coming along three years later gave people the expectation of me doing the same, so I shrunk into my shell even more.  One guy asked me to the senior prom, and he hinted that a friend had a room for us to celebrate afterwards.  I told him no way unless we had dated a few times.  So, he took me to two movies, and we went out to dinner a week before the prom.  The night of the prom, he put on a condom, but after he thrust it in me a few times, the condom broke.  He didn’t have another, so he simply left without saying a word.  His buddy wanted to finish what he started, but I just got dressed and walked home.  It was only a couple of blocks from my parents’ house.  So, Bart was the first that consummated the deal.  And you could say that I only had three dates my entire life.”  As if she had much of a life, being barely twenty-one.

I said, “And while you have the floor, what did you experience that night?”

Tamara cried, “A day or two before the woman in red hair asked me to bartend, she said the even might take six hours.  I was bold and told her that I would do the job for a lump sum of $100.  My usual pay would have been $80 to $90.  The woman looked familiar, but I knew that Envy Apple had red, white, and blue hair.  She looked me in the eye and pulled out $500 and told me that the tips would be extra.  I thought of my medical bills, and I jumped at the chance.  The red-haired lady, who I since learned was Envy Apple, smiled and said that if this worked out, I would be considered in the future, as long as I said nothing about what happened.  At that point, I knew this might not be legal, but I needed the money.  While they were having their steak dinner, I got another few hundred in tips.  Like I said, my sister slept with everyone.  She was one of the ladies at this swanky party, as luck would have it, one of the drink waitresses and she gave me her tips.  I saw people start to get undressed about the same time the room had lights flashing and swirling around.  Then I saw a guy crawling toward the door.  The DJ helped him out and she joined the orgy.  I made sure he was out of the court, and then I closed the door.  We got behind the bar and he looked at everybody crawling into the far corner.  He started throwing up.  I cleaned him up and then nature took its course.  When everybody got naked, I thought of joining them.  I was supposedly cancer free, but that decision comes after more tests.  So, I just did not want to die without being with a man.  I’m sorry, Ms. Standish, I just wasn’t thinking.  When I saw Bart at the police station, I made a dumb suggestion.  I said that since he knew I was not a man, would he like to try again?  And while we were in each other’s arms, the nightmare went away.  The sick feeling just came back when we were finished in bed.”

I asked, “Bart, what about you?”

Bart shrugged, “About the same, but to start at the beginning, I did not want to go to the party.  Shawna got very upset with me.  She said it was good for my career to go to the party and do everything the others were doing.  But I am not much of a drinker.  I had one scotch on the rocks and then I had ginger ale the rest of the time.  So, during the dancing, I started to feel ill.  Then when everyone was naked and making love with each other, I was hesitant.  I had just gotten married a few months before.  So, my dance partner took over and started, ummm, massaging me.  She got me down on the floor, and I suddenly got a headache.  I told her I was sick, and I started crawling to the door on my hands and knees.  The DJ opened the door for me.  She had gotten undressed and was about to join the party.  I guess she did not have any ill effects yet because she was standing in the opposite corner from where the gas was entering.  Tamara dragged me behind the bar.  At this point, I was not all there.  I saw a bald person on top of me.  I saw everyone inside the court crawling to the far end and then not moving.  I knew Tamara was on top of me, but I still thought she was a guy due to the bald head.  With the hallucinogenic mist in the air, it was hard knowing what was real.  But after my head cleared and I went to the precinct to sign my statement, Tamara was there and she asked if I wanted to try again, now that I knew she was a girl.  And like Tamara said, the pain goes away when we are loving each other, and it comes back as soon as we are done.”

Joseph responded, “Repressed pain from trauma can stay inside you, like a time bomb waiting to erupt.  You nearly lost your life.  You were the intended victim.  Your work friends died as you looked on.  Then you found out that your wife and the group secretary cooked up the entire death trap.  Then they were murdered.  There is a lot of baggage that you need to have unpacked.  Tamara, you just survived breast cancer.  They still have not given you the final thumbs up.  You have bills that seem to not be able to stop.  You also saw 30 people lose their lives.  Your older sister was one of those thirty people.  You have your own baggage to unpack.  Both of you need a clean break from this.  The endless cycle of a feel-good moment and then a relapse into a pit of despair will continue until you face your fears.  Tamara, yours may continue until your hair grows back.  Bart, with your living room being a crime scene, how are you coping with living in the back half of the house?”

Bart shrugged, “Not well.  That may be one of the reasons I go to Tamara.  But the crime scene tape is gone, and a cleaning crew is expected tomorrow.  The blood stain from your police officer will be gone, but I think I will always remember what went on.  Shawna swung that golf club to kill me.”

I had texted Rota and Zuzka.  They entered from the side door that leads to Gwen’s home.

“Mom?  You called for us?”  Zuzka said.  She was getting used to simply calling me ‘Mom,’ and I liked that.

I held up a hand, and with two new people, Rota and Zuzka had an idea why they were called.

I asked Tamara, “Tamara, you have said that you need a change.  What you are now doing is not working.  You have no home and no transportation.  I can give you an apartment here.  You can walk to work easily.  There are a lot of people here that can give you a hug when you need it.  Joseph uses their spare bedroom as a private counseling room and his living room as a waiting room, and sometimes a room for group sessions.  Most of the day, this office has an open-door policy.”

Tamara simply nodded, but Bart said, “What about me?  I do not think that I can return to that house alone.  There are too many memories.”

I nodded, “We normally have a rule here that no sexual activity between couples unless they are married.  I fight lifting that rule to not force my Christian beliefs onto someone else.  But we have people that are traumatized by their past life as a prostitute, and we have a rule of no PDA except in designated spots.  If you are both here, I would insist on that for the protection of people I have known for many years.  You both say that the intimacy is only effective as you do it.  If you can mutually agree to abstain from such activity, if you let Tamara grow her hair, and if you are courteous to the other tenants, I think Rota may have two apartments within the enclosure on the third floor.”

Rota smiled and nodded, “They won’t be across the hall from each other, but I can set them up today.”

Zuzka said, “We have already relocated the blanks in the ventilation so the dust will be less of a problem.  The Williams say that there is a bit of dust in the air in spite of our efforts.  I hope neither of you has a dust allergy.  We purchased an air filter for the Williams.  We can get one for each of you also.”

They both nodded their agreement and mouthed a thank you.  Bart said, “I want to continue seeing Tamara as a friend.  Can we each have individual therapy sessions and another session as a couple?  I know that the intimacy wasn’t working, although we both enjoyed it.  But I need to find a method of being alone with my thoughts.  There are several projects at work that have to be done on time.  And suddenly, I am the only one when we used to have twelve people.  I think getting back to work sooner rather than later is the best thing for me, but I want to hit a reset button with Tamara, and simply start dating.”

Tamara gasped.  She smiled and said, “I’d like that too.”

Priscilla smiled, “I have nothing to add, except that Bart better transfer all his prescriptions to my pharmacy.”

John Olden chuckled at that, “And I am glad that you will be back as soon as possible to work on your projects.  Yes, your projects.  I will be busy trying to hire new people, but if I have to hire inexperienced people, you will have to teach them.  Maybe I can hire a boss for you away from our competitor, but until then, you are in charge.  When do you feel that you are ready?”

Bart said, “At this point, I need a distraction from everything else.  Can I come day after tomorrow?  I have to be home to let in the cleaning crew tomorrow.  I will work as long as I can unless I have a therapy session here to deal with.”

I said, “My open door is a set timeframe, but no appointment necessary.  Joseph can handle evening sessions.  The cider operation is 24/7.  We have a Vespers service before the children go to bed.  Otherwise, everything will be the normal business buzz all hours of the day and less at night until you see the flow of the pink stuff.”

Tamara said, “What?!”

Zuzka laughed, “A few people have said that shift change is like drinking the pink stuff when you have a tummy ache.  All these women going back and forth in pink coveralls.  Sometimes you need pink stuff watching it.”

Credits

When I had a contract job, a combination of construction management and safety oversight, I had my wife visit at first and then the last five months of the project she joined me.  During her first visit, our deep freezer died.  We got back to a stinking house and a full deep freezer of rotten food.  After a variety of failed attempts to fix things on my own, I called a Crime Scene Cleaning Crew.  They sealed the deep freezer and took it out as is.  They also gave me some neutralizer to apply to the areas where the rotten water had spilled.

And when I worked as my wife’s caregiver when the kidney dialysis center cut corners and she was still bleeding after we got home, I became an expert at getting rid of blood stains.  Hydrogen peroxide will react with the blood.  You will see it turn into white crystals.  Then you scrub to rid the garment, floor, or carpet of the white crystals (which do not stick that much).  A lot of work, but you can never tell with a casual glance.  Now, I do not know if that defeats the CSI blood detectors or not.