Jackie's Week (14 page)

"Okay," she said. "I’ve heard enough. I hope
I can come up with the courage not to kill myself."

"You will."

Johnson punched the accelerator and shot
through the curving underpass to take the Ventura Freeway heading
east. "The pressure’s on. We’re going after a "Three-Strike"
candidate."

"Not anymore. I’m getting out of L.A. I’ve
got enough money now to go back into hiding."

"Jackie. I know how you feel, but you can’t
quit now. Not when you’re so close to taking back your life. There
must be something I can do."

"Johnson, right now, I have only one priority
in life—to be safe. And only one person can keep Jackie safe, and
that’s Jackie."

The car merged onto the Hollywood freeway
southbound, heading up the hill past the imposing structures of
Universal Studios, leaving the celestial sprawl of the Valley
behind, hurtling towards Hollywood through the gauntlet of a neon
world which ran the gamut by degrees from upscale to funky before
terminating at the corner of Highland and Franklin in a nexus of
downright weird, a fitting landscape to ponder stalking criminals
and noble ideals.

"Okay," Johnson said. "And you’re probably
right. I’m not going to say something stupid like, I’ll protect you
or anything like that. Hey, I understand fear. Bout should be
feared. He’s a dangerous man. He’s got a crew on the street, so
locking him up won’t mean you’re safe. Even if your testimony
caused him to be bound over for trial, the truth is, you probably
wouldn’t hold up as a witness."

"What do you mean I wouldn’t hold up? After
all I’ve been through, you don’t think I could handle it in
court?"

"Maybe not. The defense may argue due to the
amount of stress you were under at the time of the attack, your
perception was impaired, and because of the pepper spray, you
didn’t see anything. They’ll argue you weren’t alert to your
surroundings and your memory was interfered with because of the
blow to your head. The sad thing is, Bout did everything right.
He’s an intelligent thug. He deliberately left nothing behind to
help anybody incriminate him."

"Now that is just plain wrong."

"The problem is, if you refuse to identify
him, he is going to walk."

"What difference does it make? He’s going to
come after me either way. I don’t care if he walks." But deep down
she knew she did care. She knew she’d arrived at a turning point.
She was one of those little faceless people behind the statistics
who could make a difference. She was at a crossroads. She could run
for her life or she could stand and fight. If she went forward
against Bout, he’d be taken out of circulation. He wouldn’t hurt
another woman the way she’d been hurt. But in the process, she
might be sacrificed. An impossible position! This is why crime
victims commit suicide.

"Look," she said. "Maybe tomorrow things will
look different. Maybe we can do the lineup then."

Johnson pulled into the driveway at Donna’s
place.

"Hey," he said, "a deer feeding in your
yard."

"Get used to it. The hills are swarming with
them. They work their way over from Lake Hollywood and eat
everything in sight. Not to mention the coyotes who sneak into our
yards whispering sweet nothings to our pet pooches. Imagine coming
out to get the morning paper and finding Fifi’s coughed-up remains
on the sidewalk. Face it, Johnson; wild animals are taking over
everywhere you go."

"Well that takes the romance out of
that."

"I’ll say good-night here," Jackie said. "And
don’t worry about a good-night kiss. I’ll spare us the
embarrassment."

"You’re sure."

"Johnson, it’s 2 o’clock in the morning.
We’re both tired. I’ll call you tomorrow. Good-night."

He stood watching as she worked her way up
the three flights of flagstone ramps and onto the tree-shrouded
front porch. The tree hid her from view as she opened the front
door and went inside.

Chapter 24

"Jackie," Dr. Black said. "I am stunned. I
don’t know how you managed it, but you have undergone a total
transformation of your appearance. I wouldn’t have recognized
you."

"You can thank Donna," Jackie said.

"Okay, so let’s get started. What is going
on?"

"Yesterday, I responded to a woman’s touch,"
Jackie said. "A complete stranger, the masseuse at my hairdresser’s
place. I was hungry for it. My whole body came to life. And last
night, I turned Johnson down at the tail end of a semi-romantic
evening. Dr. Black, I don’t know what’s happening to me. And when I
am driving my car, I never want to stop. I love that car. It makes
me feel so powerful. Like I’m high on something."

"What’s happening is that since you’ve
decided to seek help, your body is starting to let go of it’s
tightly wound defenses. And letting it happen with another woman
who was giving you a massage was just your way of safely allowing
something to return that has been dormant. You’re starting to feel
again. You’ve been numb up until now. "

"I must confess, though, right now it’s
taking everything I’ve got just to stay in L.A. I was planning to
run for it."

"Being a violent crime victim," Dr. Black
said, "Requires an attitude of absolute defiance, a determination
one will prevail at all costs. That’s the attitude you’ll need to
stay in this fight. You have to walk out into the middle of the
street and give God the finger."

"I’ll try."

"I’m glad," Black said. "Before we take our
expedition to the place where you were attacked, I’ll need to work
with you here for an hour or so."

Jackie had arrived at Black’s office bright
and early. The office, with drapes closed and minimal lighting,
took on the air of a secluded refuge from the world. Jackie had
thrown away her old sweats and instead wore a pale-blue T-shirt and
a faded pair of Calvin’s borrowed from her sister. Black, in her
usual high-color-spectrum fashion, wore a pair of crisp,
robin’s-egg-blue slacks combined with a striking metallic
hot-orange tee, topped off with an amethyst ring the size of a
California avocado pit. A large calico cat crouched by her chair,
green eyes wide and locked onto Jackie’s like a laser sighting
device.

"Nice cat," Jackie said.

Black picked up the cat and stroked her fur.
"This is Kali. I named her after the Tibetan goddess of death and
destruction. As a kitten, she was very fond of going on rampages
before mealtimes."

"Everybody I’ve met lately seems to have a
thing for animals. I had dinner last night with a friend who takes
his dog everywhere, even to trendy restaurants. I’m wondering if
maybe I shouldn’t get some kind of animal myself. A tiger, perhaps,
or a rogue bull elephant."

"If you’re looking for a pet, I’ve got a
perfect answer for you. She’s a large, handsome, white-and-gray cat
with big golden eyes. She started hanging around my back door last
week. My next door neighbor moved out and I think she simply
abandoned her."

"How cruel. I can’t imagine why anyone would
abandon a helpless animal like that to die on the streets."

"My neighbor was caught up in some kind of
cult. She once confided to me that she talked to her cat."

"Everybody talks to their cat," Jackie
said.

"No. She really talked to her cat. Every
night, according to her, she and the cat did an out-of-body thing
right after dinner. They’d channel themselves to this place in the
universe that she referred to as a cat hive."

Jackie smiled. "This is crazy. But all of a
sudden I’m hearing this voice inside my head say take the cat. You
know what? I’ll take her."

"I’ll bring her tomorrow. I’m sure you’ll
love her on sight."

"I just hope I live long enough to enjoy
her."

"Why do you say that?"

"Viktor Bout sent a thug to my house last
night. It’s obvious he’s going to kill me if he can."

"What did the police say?"

"The usual. And I thought I was safe. I was
with a cop, and not only that, a bodyguard for the mob, as well as
Bobby, were supposed to be protecting me."

"How do you know they didn't?"

Jackie thought about it. True, there had been
a note, but that was all. No sign of the guy who left it. Maybe
Nasturtium or Bobby had taken care of it.

"I don't," Jackie confessed.

"I know several ladies who can take you in
until it’s safe, if you don’t feel safe with your sister."

"That’s okay. I’ll stick with Donna. Her
husband is practically a mobster. Nobody will try to get me at his
home. I found out one thing, Dr. Black. There is no such place as
safe."

"Jackie, I want you to close your eyes for a
moment. I want you to imagine somewhere in the future a new world,
a world made especially for you, a world with none of the problems
you now face. I want you to describe to me what you see."

"Can I pet the cat while I imagine?"

Black transferred Kali to Jackie’s lap. The
feline was a laid-back, mellow beast, and settled right in,
foregoing for the moment, a rampage. Jackie began slowly stroking
the animal’s short rich fur. The room was quiet save for the
rhythmic purring of Kali.

"Where are you in your dream, Jackie?"

"Me? If you must know, my dream has always
been to be happily married ever after. Like a fairy tale. The
princess in her castle on the hill. Not much of a dream, huh?"

"It’s a beautiful dream. We must follow our
dreams. God is a dreamer. Every religion speaks of how important
our dreams are. Your dream to be happily married and live in the
castle is the dream of your heart. It’s important for you to try
and follow your dream. Even if your dream doesn’t come true. If we
don’t follow our dreams, we slowly wither away until there is
nothing left."

Jackie opened her eyes. "Wow. I think your
cat really put me in a serene mood. I’m going to name my new cat
Moody."

Black stood up. "I’ve got a surprise for you.
Follow me." She picked up the baseball bat from its place in the
corner and led Jackie out the door and down the hall. They entered
another room. The walls, floor and ceiling were covered in
heavily-padded canvas. The only light came from a single recessed
spot in the corner. From the middle of the room, a life-size dummy
hung from the ceiling by a chain.

"A padded cell," Jackie said. "Has it come to
this?"

Black inhaled sharply and let go with a
shriek.

"Hey!"

"Now you try it."

"Me? Scream like you just did? I can’t."

"You know, a good, sharp, powerful scream can
do wonders."

"I never screamed once when I was attacked,"
Jackie said. "I tried, but he grabbed me by the throat."

"You waited too long. You deferred to him
because he was a man. In a sense, you were actually waiting on him.
In fact, you still are. You’re even following his orders about not
picking him out of the lineup. You’re following his command to die.
That's what your entire life has been the past six months. Being
the perfect victim in your apartment, awaiting further orders from
your abuser. It's a variant of Stockholm syndrome."

"Oh. You’re right. That is sickening."

"Women are raised to comply with men’s
orders. If you’re going to survive, you’ve got to stop waiting on
men and learn to think for yourself. Next time, you’ll strike
first, and she who strikes first, wins. It’s why I have this room
set up like this. I want you to scream. Once your scream is well
underway, go ahead and whack the dummy. Keep it up until you go
into a frenzy. You are to scream and yell as loud as you can and
beat the dummy to a pulp. Pretend you’re back in the parking lot at
Gelson’s and fighting for your life."

The bat was small and made of aluminum. The
non-slip rubber grip was reassuring in her Bout.

"I’ll see you back in my office when you’re
done," Black said.

Jackie couldn’t scream. Not here. The thought
made her angry. It was okay for Bout to cave her skull in, but it
wasn’t okay for her to scream. She tried a tiny little scream. It
came out awkwardly, like the squeak of a frightened mouse. But in
its own way, it felt kind of good. She gave the dummy an
experimental tap on the leg. The leg took the shot with a
satisfying crunch, as though the object was filled with marbles.
She filled her lungs, gripped the bat tightly and let it rip.
Midway through the piercing screech, a bolt of energy shot through
her body, and she wound up and let fly at the dummy’s head.

The satisfying crunch of the dummy mixing
with the animal sounds from her throat overwhelmed her and tears
began to flow—not the tears of a victim—but of righteous wrath. Her
crying became an uncontrollable torrent as she issued one
terrifying scream after another, followed by blow upon blow to the
dummy’s face, chest, arms and legs. She leaped and spun in the air
as the dummy began to swing wildly on the chain.

The grief poured from her heart as the sweat
streamed down her body. The screaming no longer terrified her—it
transformed her from the prey into the predator. There was no safe
place for the dummy, no place it could run, no place it could hide,
as she rained upon it one strike after another. Her right arm gave
out and she transferred the bat to her left and continued the
bludgeoning, as her spirit fused into her arm and became one with
the bat, one with the dummy, and one with the screams. At one point
she collapsed but felt a force flowing through her from somewhere
in the center of the earth, a force which raged through her limbs
like lightning, and she was at it again, with an intensity and a
power she’d never felt before.

It was a power she recognized, a power very
old, a power reaching to her from a part of creation history before
the fall, a power rotating in the center of her body and imparting
to her tired limbs a force she knew instinctively could not be
defeated by man or animal.