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Chapter 15

(I)

It wasn’t quite a vegetative state that plagued Veronica for the coming hours. It was some sort of temporary semi-catatonia that left her staring at the truck’s metal walls with virtually no thoughts crossing her mind. The men seemed to be driving through a town, not the backwoods, and every so often, Veronica peered up and out the windshield, she saw but barely noticed garlands of Christmas lights. Then: Christmas, the single word occurred to her.

She didn’t know what it meant.

Veronica rocked comfortably back and forth as the truck shifted gears. Were they parking? An errant shift of gaze showed her something familiar: golden…arches? But why would that seem familiar? As they turned and pulled around, something else caught her gaze, a large yellow sign with black letters: BEST BUY. Veronica stirred.

The truck stopped.

Another section of a sign could be seen: HOME DEPOT.

Veronica whimpered.

“Micky-Mack? See that place over yonder. With them yeller rainbow-type things?”

“Yeah, Unc.”

“That there’s a restaurant, and it’s a famous one. Ain’t never et there myself but I’se know folks who have—it’s calt the Mack-Donald’s. Just you go on over’n pick us up a bunch’a viddles. I’m sick’a beans’n spaghetti’n fancy tater chips. Plus, Veronica might perk up if’n she got some citified grub in her breadbasket. Here’s some money—”

“Oh, I got me some money, Unc. Let me contri-bit—”

“No, boy. Use Maw’s money. It’s what she’d want. Meantime me’n Dumar’ll be in the Home Depot.”

“Shore, Unc.”

The boy disembarked. Helton’s concerned face hovered over Veronica.

“Veronnerka? Hon? You’se all right?”

Mouth opened, Veronica nodded.

“I’se sorry I showed ya that ugly movie but, like I said, I needed ya ta understand why we’se doin’ this…”

Veronica nodded.

“We’se’ll be right back. Whine you just try ta take yerself a nap?”

Veronica nodded.

Helton sighed, then eventually left the truck with his son.

McDonald’s, she thought diffusely. Home Depot…

Something tiny seemed to crackle in her brain.

Best Buy…

She stood up—at least as much as she could given the handcuff—though she didn’t know why. She tried to peer out the windshield, but crooked over like that she could only see an edge of the semi-full parking lot. Daylight raged. Straining her neck…she detected movement…

A figure in a blue shirt—a familiar blue shirt—walked briskly through the rows of parked cars. It never occurred to her, though, that this person’s blue shirt was identical to her own. The figure was a slender man with spiked-up hair; more familiarity seemed to whisper around in her head. He was sticking sheets of paper beneath the windshield wipers of each car, and in an action so coincidental as to be completely unbelievable, a gust of wind picked up, detached one of the sheets from a windshield and blew it directly against the windshield of the black truck!

Veronica read the sheet, obviously a sale-flyer: OPEN ‘TIL MIDNIGHT XMAS EVE! BLOWOUT HOLIDAY SALE ONLY AT BEST BUY!

Then the sheet fluttered, and blew away.

Best Buy, Veronica thought. She watched the spike-haired man weaving between parked cars, and for some reason unbeknownst to her, she thought, Archie…

Veronica sat back down, somehow contentedly confused, if such a state of mind could even exist. Had she remained standing for less than a minute more, the man in the blue shirt—Archie—would’ve been able to see her when he placed a flyer beneath the truck’s wiper.

She looked dully up when Micky-Mack returned. He set down an armful of white bags that smelled of fast food.

“Well, hey there, Veronnerka! Feelin’ better?”

Veronica stared at him.

“Got’cha some viddles, yes sir! Probably more what yer used to—citified food, I guess this is. Smells good, huh?”

Veronica nodded.

Micky-Mack sat in the fold-down chair, but before he did so, Veronica’s retinas registered scarlet streaks along the chair’s back. It did not occur to her that this was dried blood.

Micky-Mack rubbed his crotch for no apparent reason. “Don’t’cha worry none, Veronnerka. You’se’ll get ta go home soon, just like Unc Helton promised.” He cast her a discerning glance. “Say, Veronnerka? Them tits’a yers are, like, dandy tits. You wouldn’t mind showin’ to me again, would’ja?”

Veronica shook her head and raised her top.

Micky-Mack’s cheeks billowed. “Dang, girl! They’se get better ever time! Them there’s what we call Jiminee Christmas tits!” He rubbed his crotch more concertedly. “Say, you ain’t seemed ta mind none tweakin’ our peckers. How’s about tweakin’ mine right now?”

Veronica nodded.

“Dang, you are such a nice gal!” and Micky-Mack stood up in a flash, extracted his malodorous penis, and slipped it unhesitantly into Veronica’s mouth.

“Yeah, back’n forth, just like that, just like we up’n taught ya…”

Rhythmic sucking sounds clicked. The penis hardened immediately, and not once did she wince when each stroke slid well past her tonsils.

Micky-Mack’s breath raced. “Dang-dang-dang! That’s just, I say that’s just shorely the best dick suckin’ I’se ever had…” His groin was tensing. “You know, it’s damn refreshin’ ta have my dick tended to natural-like. All these headers we’se havin’? Shit, they’se feel great, but still… Just somethin’ unnatural ’bout fuckin’ heads,” but then his words stalled. “Aw, shit! I weren’t supposed ta say that! Unc Helton, he’d whup my ass good if’n he knowed I just said that so’s… Veronnerka? How’s ’bout that’ll be our secret, okay? Don’t tell Unc Helton I’se mentioned nuthin ’bout headers. Okay?”

Mouth stuffed, Veronica nodded.