Jailbait--A Tale Regaled from the Pages of the 'Last Days'

Jailbait--A Tale Regaled from the Pages of the 'Last Days'

A Story by Seah
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Irony...No. 1 2019 | Will We Ever Feel Safe and Secure?

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"Yes, among them we all at one time conducted ourselves in harmony with the desires of our flesh, carrying out the will of the flesh and of our thoughts, and we were naturally children of wrath just as the rest.“ Eph. 2:3.
*
Their cyber poetic name gave no hint to their real persona... Mystic--a puppeteer of the fearful, of the down-trodden. Manipulating emotions into treachery became an art form exquisitely delicious for them to hungrily imbibe. Especially with the young and ‘thought' loveless. They were easily managed, with parents non-existent or occupied. These 'little darlings' poured out their hearts into cyberspace using some of the most hideous of words. Immature writes of undeveloped imagery... Basically... 'just whining' or 'venting'... Then others...
*
"My poor, child, I must say, even I can be moved to tears," Mystic marvels, after rolling back from a recently blackened screen. Elbows propped onto a small desk cluttered with books, notepads, and maps, while fingers entwined support a weak, whiskered, chin.
"Ah! Our beauty, Lamisery, has been victimized by her family, boys at schools, teachers of both sexes,... no wonder she writes with such tragic beauty:
“I crave a darkened moonless sky, a river deep, a rope to tie. You'd find me after and wonder why... I would not stay... For your sins as offerings of serpents, I insanely drank. Knowingly poisoned, I am too weak for love. I cannot deny.”... "You've denied me, you little liar!" Mystic mutters, angrily pushing back from the monitor.
"Maybe you want a little revenge for a system of foster care that has failed you and your cute little 'brother'... I'll just run a little contest to see if she'll enter and show me how dark her thoughts can become in her lonesome misery," Mystic, thinks aloud.
*
The wicked fingers again pound the keyboard in speedy glee to see if our new poet Lamisery will enter the net of their treachery. While outside their thirteenth floor window, across a busy intersection, the beautiful mixed race teenager leaves a corner deli with a raisin bagel and coffee for herself and a doughnut and chocolate milk for her little brother. Her heart and eyes are full of love for her small ward. Her mild demeanor becoming a wild angry lioness, if he again becomes threatened. He is all she had left. He is her world.
*
The sheriff, passing through the intersection, notices the two, as he often does recently, since joining the precinct, believing that, "genetically the two belong together." Also thinking, "He must be her little brother," because of their speculated ages. "He, maybe six; she maybe sixteen." He also wonders about their parents.
*
Mystic's contest garners a wide variety of angry entrants, but, Lamisery is missing... "Okay... She can't be manipulated, yet.". .. Mystic shuts down her computer and picks up her cellphone. Time is running out. "It’s been awhile since the last event," she reminds herself.
She needs to again make a personal statement, even if she is the only one that knows what that upcoming incident will mean... "Harvey," not his real name, "I have a tempting little treat for you. So sweet... Meet me in the park in fifteen minutes... I'll tell you what I need."
*
A white passenger van lowers an elderly woman in an electric wheelchair, dressed as if winter had set upon a summer's day, onto the busy sidewalk. Passersbys stroll forth on either side of her, gazing at their phones or just rushing by. She attempts to catch anyone's eye with repeated, "Excuse me. Excuse me," in a contrived weakened voice.
After about 10 minutes of invisibility, she heatedly rolls herself onto the path leading into the park's interior. She immediately sees Harvey impatiently swinging his lean leg, encased in slim black stretch denim.
A dark handsome young man, she decides to slow down her roll to enjoy the view. She knows he only is maneuvered by her checking account. She doesn't care. She is just glad she still has a little to dangle. She decides she wants to see him walk towards her, so she drops one of her many bags onto the path. She feigns an inability to retrieve it.
Noticeably irritated, Harvey raises his slim frame and saunters over to pick up the bag. "Here," he says. "You got what you wanted, right?... Enjoyed the view?"
"I always do," she answers, though she notices him slowing his return back to his seat. Her gaze turns towards two young men checking out his more pronounced swinging retreat. This brings her back to her purpose for his presence. So she speedily catches up with him.
"Thank you, young man," she says loud enough for anyone listening to hear. "Since you were so kind, could you please do me the favor of mailing this for me?" pushing an envelope hurriedly into his hands... She whispers, "Inside is part of the money and your instructions. The rest payable upon completion... I want to hear about it tonight."
"But what about the sweet treat you promised?" Harvey asks, pout in his voice. "That's why I'm really here... I'm not in need of your money."
She had noticed a sudden decline in his responses to her calls. And his new attire of tight black tee and leather loafers with matching manbag was not due to any purchases she made in his behalf... She knew she needed to act quickly if she were to be able to solidify his cooperation in the near future. She needed his handsomeness to gain a greater number of converts.
"Harvey, just wait here a half hour. You will see a beautiful young girl with an equally beautiful little boy walk by.. . I'll get him for you this week... Promise."
She wishes the gorgeous smile lighting up his face were for her, but those days of inspiring poems and whistles and adulteries were long past. No one would ever believe that she was ever able to run a business engineering monetary schemes to aid her political candidates into office. That she was once sought after as a conquest... "No one even seeks me out to even greet me anymore... My children don't even call or visit... But I’ll show them that I can still make my presence known," she thought.
*
Lamisery's little brother dances and skips around her in his after school uniform of shorts and sneakers, so happy to have made a little friend. So often he is bullied because of his small frame. So she hovers, like a hen, about him on the playgrounds, missing out on furthering personal friendships with other adults she has met, to ensure his safety.
She refuses to continue to allow, supposedly well-meaning adults, to monitor his life. She knows firsthand the looks of greedy desire making lips moist and Adams' apples slowly bob, while tongues seem to salivate for an anticipated taste of innocence soured.
"Hey, hold up ‘little man’!... I can't understand what you're saying unless you keep still," she cries. When suddenly, before her eyes, leaning back on the park bench, watching her arrive, ‘a manly’, mirage?... For a second she wishes she'd had given more attention to her appearance; worried about what age she visibly portrayed. Knowing that many considered her younger than her years. But the way he sheepishly grins at her, she knows that he must have figured ‘little man’ could be hers. That she is not actually a juvenile.
"Hi," he says, in a voice of pure deep chocolate melody.
"Hi," back, she replies, slowing down her pace before him.
"Is that your son?" he asks of ‘little man’.
Just as she thought... "Oh, no... He's my little brother; though he can almost be mine," she twists the truth a bit. "Why do you ask?"
"I had just wondered if I were too late and if you already had a family... with another man... If not... I'm not sorry."
His, "If not," left her weakening in variant spots, but especially in her once thought stronger knees, nearly unable to hold her up... Unfortunately, she’d been introduced to carnal desires while holding her own bottle and before being even aware of what a desire was. Therefore, she’d been unconsciously schooled on the affect her face and developed body had on both sexes. Thus, she is usually on high alert about her sensuality. More on guard against promoting it by means of her actions and dress.
But this vision before her is not her daily fare of stalkers or admirers. She wonders: "Who is he and what does he do for a living?... Undoubtedly, a model."... she supposes.
*
Mystic had arrived back to her shabby flat to spy on Harvey from her vantage point on the thirteenth floor. After grabbing a vanilla Ensure, a few Oreo cookies and her binoculars, she rolls herself to the window to watch as he will probably gawk after Lamisery's little 'brother'. After swallowing down the last cookie with the rest of her shake, she almost spews it back through slipping dentures onto the window pane when she sees Lamisery practically swooning over Harvey... "I thought she'd learned to be stronger than that!"... "What crap!"
She picks up her cellphone and immediately pushes Harvey's number, while still holding tightly with her snarled fingers and torn yellowed nails onto the glasses... "Pick up, you moron!"
She sees Harvey look at his cell, then say to Lamisery, "Oh, I don't need to answer that."
"Oh, you don't, eh!"...  Mystic leaves a pointed message... "If you as much as walk away with that child, you will eternally regret it," she says between clenched, wrinkled, shriveled lips... She pushes redial. Then pushes redial again.
"Hello, Harvey here," he answers smoothly.
"Walk away from them, Harvey, or you'll regret it."
"Excuse me, Ms. I think you have the wrong number."
"Don't you dare hang up... Oh, I've got your little number, buster!... If you think you can mess me over, that I can't handle the likes of you, you'd better think again," she croaks.
"Oh, hey!... It's you... I'm sorry. " Harvey turns towards Lamisery, still speaking into the receiver for Mystic to hear... "Excuse me, beautiful lady, I didn't even get your name... "
"Stacy..."
"Ah!... Lovely, Stacy, I need to walk away to take this call. But please don't leave... It will only take a second, ok?"
Stacy knows she needs to leave. It is getting late and she has to feed ‘little man' before starting her customer service job, accomplished from her small rented studio... "If he hurries," she hopes.
"Ok... But I only have a second..."
"Thank you," he mouths, spinning away before she can read his lips... "Ok, you old bat! Don't threaten me. Don't think I can't handle the likes of you! You think you don't have much too lose?... I happen to know for a fact that you are a ‘wanted' old lady. I've had my ears to the ground too... They send ‘old folks' to the can too!... Just try me," he snaps back. Then returns to Stacy.
"Thank you!... I would've had to camp out here until you returned, if you'd have left me standing here, stranded with only an increasingly deep desire to see you again. Your obvious love for your brother, plus your youthful natural beauty is a combination not seen too often anymore. So unselfish..."
His words, uncharacteristically, hits a core so deep inside Stacy that she begins to silently weep. She can't let him see this, so she hurriedly stoops to adjust ‘little man's’ slightly dirty white t-shirt.
However, ‘little man' misunderstands her tears, so he spins around and kicks Harvey in the shins.
"Oh!... I'm so sorry," Stacy says, standing, her tears immediately disappearing... "I don't know what..."
"You hurt my, my... Stacy," he yells before taking off down the path out of the park, desiring to lure Harvey away from her.
"No, ‘Nicky’ wait!" Stacy shouts. Forgetting and using his given name. "Wait! Please!"
*
Mystic uses this opportunity to call Harvey back, since she saw a police car parked near the entrance of the park... "Harvey, dear fellow. I've taken the liberty of informing the police of a few fires started on a couple of neighborhood churches and who is responsible... I've told them to look in the park for a handsome young man carrying a manila envelope..."
*
Harvey immediately starts to sprint towards the park’s entrance right behind Stacy chasing Nicky.
*
Max, the Sheriff, was waiting for his deputy, buying Gatorade and turkey wraps in the corner café before they returned to home base. Parked out front, he is lazily watching people stroll, or stand, mesmerized by phone screens as they waited for a break in traffic, when he sees the little boy jetting out with the young girl screaming for him to "Stop! Nicky. Please!" Running close behind, followed by a man, also running after them, carrying a manila envelope.
Max jumps out the car to keep the little boy from running into a heavy late afternoon rush. But the sharp screech of breaks and the young girl’s scream tells him, tragically,... "Too late."
*
Harvey thinks, "What luck!"... He is just about to turn and drop his gait to a quick stride when the deputy grabs hold of his arm. Max calls to him, "Thanks, Rob! I owe you," as he returns his attention to the hysterical girl trying to scoop up the little boy. It takes all in his power not to grab her solidly into his arms and cradle her. "To comfort her, of course," he quickly tells himself, appalled by his feeling of, "What luck!" as sadly, the child lays deathly still, while they await the paramedics.
"Rob, would you hold him in the car for questioning?" Max asks the deputy in displaced anger.
"Sure, Sheriff."... Rob jerks Harvey around by the arm and pushes him into the back seat. Then Harvey turns to glare up at the thirteenth floor window of Mystic’s apartment building... He knows most definitely what he is about to say and do.
*
Mystic suddenly goes into action. She gathers all files and her laptop and rolls over to the closet, attempting to stuff everything into the already cluttered bottom. If she had any clue that she would one day be caught, she'd had prepared an area to lock away everything until a warrant was produced. Now, she just needs to go into her ‘sweet old lady mode’... She begins to rehearse.
*
Stacy is beside herself in guilt. She doesn't know if the Sheriff has been sent to find her, but she is comforted by his kind presence. He holds back passersbys, all the while, keeps an eager eye on her and Nicky, while watching for the ambulance.
She hadn't been the praying sort, but today she prays inwardly fervently: "Please God, if you exist, hear me for Nicky. He’s such a good little boy. I am the one who needs to be lying there... Please, God, don't let him die... I'll search for you... I won't be angry at you, anymore... I'll believe in you, if you let me see he'll be okay."
*
Max knew that a young woman and little boy had been reported ‘wanted' for questioning, in the death of  a man pushed down some basement stairs, seventy miles from here. And he had seen these two often, but couldn't credit that they could 'be' them. She looked all-of-sixteen. And she said he was her little brother, which looks as if it could be true.
*
Suddenly, 'little man' opens his eyes. Frantic, he tries to sit up. "Mommy! Mommy!" He calls out, before falling backwards into Stacy's arms.
So happy she is to hear his voice. But, she quickly glances into Max's face, wondering: "If he is putting two-plus-two together about us?"
*
Max was just happy to hear the little boy call her, 'Mommy'... He thought gloriously, "She's not 'Jailbait'."
*
“For the time that has passed by is sufficient for you to have done the will of the nations, when you carried on in acts of brazen conduct, unbridled passions, overdrinking, wild parties, drinking bouts, and lawless idolatries.” 1 Pet. 4:3.

© 2020 Seah


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Added on October 14, 2020
Last Updated on October 14, 2020

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Seah
Seah

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