Someone Might See

By Sharon Bell Buchbinder


I know this is a strange story, but it's true, I swear to God. Please listen to me. You're my only hope.

I get outta the joint yesterday and I'm hitchhiking on I-83, trying to get out of the city. The only reason I got out early is because they were overcrowded. There's a bunch of us out now--druggies, thieves, carjackers, rapists, even murderers. But, then, I guess you know that.

Anyway, I'm hitchhiking, and a little red VW bug stops and pulls over. It's brand-spanking new, even has the flower on the dashboard. And the passenger side door opens and a woman says, "Hop in."

I hop in and the driver is a babe in a skin tight, high-necked red dress. Long blonde hair, big lips, big tits, and from what I could see, a big ass. And she smells like roses. A year in the joint with horny, fart stinking, ugly guys and now this babe appears outta nowhere. I'm getting a woody just looking at her.

So, she says, "Where to?"

I says, "Anywhere outta this shit hole of a town."

She laughs this low, rumbling kind of laugh, and says, "No problem. I'm heading home. Wanna come?"

Wanna come? I'm about to come right then and there, but I say, "Yeah, baby, that sounds great."

She's hot for me, I know she is. She gives me those quick sidewise looks, smiles, licks her lips and tosses that mane of hair.  So, I decide to take a chance and put my hand on her thigh.

She puts her hand on top of mine, and slides it under her dress. I'm about to die, I'm telling ya. We can't wait any longer, so as soon as she can, she gets off the highway and drives down a side road. We're all over each other in seconds, two octopuses in lust inside a little VW bug, and I pull my pants down. And the bitch starts laughing.

"What's so funny?" I say.

"You are baby," she says and looks at my woody, which is now starting to wilt. And she laughs some more.

All of a sudden, my hands are around her neck, but she's fighting like a cat and scratching at my eyes and biting my hands. I hold on and I'm choking that smug look off her face. And, at last, the bitch's eyes roll up in her head and she stops struggling.

Then I panic. I gotta ditch the body and this looks like as good a place as any. I drag her outta the car, all the way into a bunch of bushes and then I see the houses. That's no good, someone might see. I'm thinking, where can I hide her? I can't afford to be caught. They won't ever let me out this time. This is all her fault. If only the bitch hadn't started laughing when I pulled my pants down.

Then I think, Jesus! What am I going to do about her car? She bit my hand and my blood's all over it. If they find the car, they'll find me! I tell myself to calm down, take deep breaths like they taught you in prison.

Then I remember there's a reservoir a little further up the highway. Yeah, that's right. No one will see it there. I'll just drive the car over to the edge, her in it, and give it a shove. No problem. Yeah. I'll just drag her back to the car and we're off.

So, I pull the body back to the car and there's no car. Do you believe that? Someone took the fucking car. Do I have shit luck, or what?

I drop the body and start running up and down the road, looking for a car, truck, mule -- anything to get me outta there. Then I remember the houses. I'll just walk over to one of those houses and boost a car.

So, I walk back to where I left the body and it's gone. This is not happening, I tell myself. Who would steal a body? A car, I can understand. A body? Makes no sense. I'm running in and out of the bushes, getting more scratches and tears at my face and arms and sweating bullets. I turn to go back out to the road.

The next thing I know, I'm lying on my side, trussed up like a pig at a luau and the bitch is sitting on my ribs with her hands on my throat. She doesn't look so hot now. She has red marks all over her neck and her eyes are blood-shot. And she's smiling, this really weird, creepy smile.

"Oh, baby," she says. "We're gonna have some fun."

And she drags me through the bushes to one of the houses, opens a sliding glass door and pulls me through it, all nice and casual, like she does this everyday.

"Honey," she yells out, "I'm home. And I've brought a friend to play with us."

And the biggest, ugliest woman I have ever seen comes into the kitchen and smiles at me with two rows of candy corn teeth. She's wearing a big, flowery Hawaiian muumuu and has hairy arms and dirty feet, which I can see just fine, since my nose is next to them.

"Oh, baby, he's a cute one," the ugly one says in a voice lower than mine.

"What shall we play first?" the blonde bitch says to the ugly one.

"Hmmm, let's play, 'Your Turn in the Barrel!'" the ugly one says.

"I love that game!" the blonde bitch says in a deep voice.

I'm screaming and crying and they're laughing and saying how much fun they're gonna have with me, but first they want me to see the "play room" and "freshen up," since I've been "working out." So, they drag me downstairs to a locking room with a metal cot and a skinny mattress and leg irons on long chains. They untie me and order me to strip. Just as I'm leaning down to untie my shoes, I grab the chain, swing it around and hit the ugly one on the side of the head with the leg iron. She goes down like a tree.

The blonde turns to run up the stairs and I grab the bitch's arm and throw her against the wall. She goes down and I run out the door, slam it behind me and lock it. And get the hell outta there.

So, I was wondering, Officer, is there any chance I could go back to prison? I don't feel safe out here.

THE END