SOUND:
Hotel lobby. Desk noise. Movement.
NARRATOR:
Jack Wolff positions himself in the lodge’s lobby, waiting…and soon young Anna emerges from the ladies’ room. She’s been crying.
WOLFF:
I’m sorry, miss, but…are you all right?
ANNA:
(holding back emotion) No….no, not really. Excuse me….
WOLFF:
Has someone been bothering you?
NARRATOR:
The young ones always like a defender.
Jack has played that role so many times. She smells so good…not perfume. Soap. Yum.
ANNA:
No one’s bothering me. Just…my dad.
WOLFF:
Your dad? Aren’t you a little old to have to worry about that?
ANNA:
No. I’m…just fifteen.
WOLFF:
Really? I thought you were twenty, at least.
NARRATOR:
That makes her smile – she’s at that rare age when girls like to be mistaken for women. Such a delicate beauty. Defiling beauty like that was, for Jack, beyond pleasure.
ANNA:
No. I’m just a kid. Without any rights.
WOLFF:
Kids have rights. Kids have very special rights….I’m Jack Wolff. I’m on vacation…getting away from my law practice.
NARRATOR:
Jack knows enough about law, from being around his father, to fake it.
He knows women don’t like to hear you’re unemployed, even when you are well-fixed. “Lawyer” says money to a woman. Even to a girl like this….
ANNA:
My name’s Anna Mullins…but my friends call me Annie.
WOLFF:
(warmly) Hello, Annie.
ANNA:
(eager) You wouldn’t…? No. Sorry.
I shouldn’t ask.
WOLFF:
Ask away.
ANNA:
Would you ever…take on somebody my age for a client?
WOLFF:
Well, certainly. Why not?
ANNA:
Then….could we go somewhere for a moment? Somewhere we can talk without fear of my parents coming out of the dining room and making a scene?
WOLFF:
Of course.
NARRATOR:
They sit under a tree on a bench from a carved log, a hedgerow on made four sides, making a private out-of-doors chamber for them. A breeze shimmers through the leaves, the sun dapples through shade trees, forming a lovely pattern on Anna’s creamy complexion. He does not sit close. Not yet.
ANNA:
My father, Mr. Wolff, is…he’s not a nice man.
WOLFF:
How so, Anna?
ANNA:
Make it Annie. Please. I want us to be friends.
WOLFF:
So do I.
ANNA:
The trouble is, I…I think maybe I’m not so nice, either.
WOLFF:
Why’s that, Annie?
ANNA:
I…I think maybe I deserve it, when he punishes me. Daddy found out that I…I…that my boyfriend and I, we…you know. Did it.
NARRATOR:
Well, this is good news and bad news, isn’t it, Jack? You hoped she’d be a virgin, but then those are so rare – such precious blood to spill….But an ashamed, abused child is perfect for your game. Damaged goods, Jack – particularly damaged goods that know they are damaged – makes for easier prey.
WOLFF:
Is it just verbal abuse, Anna? Or does he…hit you?
ANNA:
It started out with just yelling…he threatened my boy friend, and Andy just…just ran off. Really scared the you-know-what out of him.
WOLFF:
You want to get back with Andy?
ANNA:
No. No, that’s over. He didn’t stand up to Daddy.
WOLFF:
Anna…does he hit you?
ANNA:
…No one can see us, right?
WOLFF:
No one can see us here.
NARRATOR:
So little Anna pulls down her halter top, not all the way, just enough to show Jack the bruise on her shoulder…then pulls the top back up.
WOLFF:
Bastard.
ANNA:
It wasn’t just that once, either. If I get home late, or lately when I sneak out…because that’s the only way I can get out…he’s waiting with a belt. On my…my bottom. I…I can’t show you that. Too embarrassed….
WOLFF:
Does your mother know about this?
ANNA:
(bitter, near tears) She gets all motherly with soothing cloths and the words to go with it…but she supports him. Calls it “tough love.” She’s as bad as he is.
WOLFF:
I’m afraid such enabling is all too typical. It’s even possible he’s physically abused her, as well, and on some sick level, she’s pleased his violence has turned elsewhere.
ANNA:
That’s awful.
WOLFF:
It’s very common. And very human. The situation you’re both in is too terrible for her to contemplate.
ANNA:
But I’m afraid it’s my fault, too. Andy…he’s not the only boy, Mr. Wolff. I like being with boys. Does that make me bad?
WOLFF:
(comforting) No. No, no, Annie, you’re just a normal young girl blossoming into a beautiful woman.
Your father wants to keep you a child. Life doesn’t work that way.
ANNA:
I need help, Mr. Wolff.
WOLFF:
What sort of help, specifically?
ANNA:
I have to get away from them. From my parents.
WOLFF:
Being a runaway is no answer, Annie.
NARRATOR:
She is clutching him now, sobbing into his chest, her sorrow palpable – though what Jack notices most is her pert ripe breasts pushing against him.
ANNA:
I won’t run away. I’ll go with you. You can take me someplace safe, and then we’ll sue that lousy…
lousy…
WOLFF:
(gently) Even after he’s hurt you, you still love your father, don’t you?
ANNA:
Yes. Yes, but I can’t go on this way.
Oh, please, Mr. Wolff – you have to help me!
WOLFF:
Of course I’ll help you, Annie. There are legal remedies.
ANNA:
I don’t want to get Daddy in trouble!
WOLFF:
Fine, but we won’t let him know that.
We can sue for divorce. You can be your own free person.
ANNA:
But I’m under eighteen!
WOLFF:
That’s not a factor. And your father won’t fight it, either – not when he knows very well what he’s done to you. And that he could face incarceration.
ANNA:
(getting it) He’d be ruined.
WOLFF:
Yes. This kind of physical abuse, assault and battery…it’s a prison sentence on top of disgrace.
ANNA:
But I told you – I’m not a good girl.
Andy isn’t the only one – I’ve been with other boys, too. And I…like it….
NARRATOR:
Her hand is on his thigh now. Her lips glisten.
WOLFF:
Anna…Annie…you can depend on me.
ANNA:
But I’m just a kid! How could I ever repay you?
WOLFF:
We’ll…think of something.
MUSIC:
Up.
ANNOUNCER:
We’ll return to Fangoria’s Dreadtime Stories – after these words.
ANNOUNCER:
And now back to Fangoria’s Dreadtime Stories and “Wolf.”
SOUND:
Outdoor swimming pool noises again.
Some breeze in there.
NARRATOR:
That afternoon, Jack keeps an eye on Annie. She and her family go to the swimming pool, and so does he. In his deck chair beneath an umbrella, he sits nearby and watches them, eyes behind shades as he pretends to read the new Stephen King…instead he eavesdrops.
ANNA’S MOM:
(slightly off-mic) I’m sorry if we embarrassed you, sweetheart.
ANNA:
(slightly off-mic) I’m not a child. You don’t have to treat me like one.
ANNA’S MOM:
(slightly off-mic) It’s only for your own good.
ANNA’S DAD:
(slightly off-mic)
