Broken Marilyns

HELPING HAND

HELPING HAND

"So," I raised my eyebrows at Maddie. We were looking like two jack asses standing in my kitchen with a beat-up police scanner.

"Just wait," Maddie's tongue stuck out slightly while she fiddled with some dials on the huge black box of junk. Soon, gritty voices were assaulting my ears from the dusty speaker. "Got it," Maddie smiled triumphantly.

"So," I continued.

"So sit down and listen. Wait for something that sounds juicy, see if they give out the location, hop in your car, and go!" Maddie spun around, flipping her hair like she were flipping a superhero cape and left me alone with the demon-box.

I pulled a chair up to the kitchen counter, too scared to move the scanner, and sat there listening to it like a lost puppy. I was learning more about this town of circus freaks than I'd ever wanted to. I left the scanner on while I sat at my laptop to surf the Internet.

"Call in...woman tied up...woods...Coral Ave...hiker found...possible rape...victim ran away," my ears perked up, straining to make sense of the call.

"Officer...in the area...I'll go check...no back-up needed," a male voice responded to the call. Coral Avenue, it was a street at the edge of the woods on the other side of town. Thank you, Maddie.

I drove up and down Coral Avenue twice and didn't see anyone. Discouraged, I turned around one more time and then I was going home. If I had blinked I wouldn't have caught her; a slender woman with dirty blonde hair made a mad dash from behind one tree to the next with what looked like blood on her gray crop-top.

"Hey," I hollered through the dry air between the girl and me. Now that I was next to her, I noticed her clothes were dirty, tattered, and that she was bleeding around her wrists. A sudden flashback of my mother's body made me queasy. "Hey!" I demanded this time. Appraising me from the corner of her eye, the woman slowed and faced me but said nothing. Her face said it all: scared, hurt, and paranoid. I stopped my car and waved her over but she didn't budge - I couldn't blame her. Pulling over just ahead of where she stood, the girl cowered and scanned the area for ways to exit as I approached.

"I just want to help, I promise," I said coolly with my arms up, palms out to show I meant no harm and had nothing to hurt her with. The girl crossed her arms and began rocking her upper-body nervously. "What happened to you?" I eyed her wrists, a familiar pattern indented her skin.

The slight girl would be pretty in normal circumstances, her blonde hair probably blonder without dirt buried in it. Her skin was fair and supple where it wasn't bruised or cut, and her blue eyes were tired, but hypnotic.

"Listen, I just need to get outta here," she spoke gruffly but her eyes showed desperation, "you gonna give me a ride or not?"

"Not before you tell me your name."

"Julia. Eisner," she hesitated. "Can we go now? You're the one who stopped. If you're not gonna help I need to keep going." I opened the passenger's door from inside and Julia ran to the car and hopped in, relieved. What did she need to get away from?

During the ride, Julia took inventory of her wounds. One she would continually rub her fingers across and wince. The thick grooves on the lateral side of her left arm were a distinct crisscross pattern. My memory fired off a fraction of a memory and then I lost it.

"What happened back there, Julia?" I broke the silence. Leering at me, she exhaled heavily.

"I was beaten and raped," her eyes lowered to the marks on her arms again before gazing out the window.