“Actually,” interrupted the new woman, “I was referring to my girlfriends and I. We live on a farm a mile down the road. This is our driveway. And my hearing is quite good.”
“Well, the short story is my jeep blew a rod, exploded, and now we’re stuck out here. We were on our way to Clear Lake so we could . . .”
“Clear Lake?” the girl interrupted. “You are heading in the way-wrong direction girls. You’re on the wrong side of the state for that.”
Heather gave a dirty look to Laurie, Alice gave a dirty look to Heather, and Laurie looked at the dirt underneath her shoes.
“Look,” said Heather at last. “Could we borrow your phone or something? We need to get a hold of the people at the camp and let them know what happened and then I need to call my insurance. Too bad my policy doesn’t cover acts of BLATANT STUPIDITY!” she screamed at Laurie.
“Man, I sense some totally negative energy here. You should just chill. Sure, you can borrow the phone. Oh, where are my manners. My name is Fredericka, but you can call me Freddie. So anyone who doesn’t want to stand around like a silly-nilly in the middle of a dirt road all night, hop in the truck. I can take one other person up front with me and the other two can hop in the back. The three girls grabbed their singed and smoldering suitcases, and then Laurie instantly lunged into the passenger seat so she could be next to the one person who didn’t want to kill her. The other two climbed into the back, and Fredericka headed back down the road.
As the truck moved along, Alice started complaining again. “I think she’s one of those lesbians,” she said.
Heather rolled her eyes. “So am I you twit!”
“I thought you were a bicycle?”
“That’s ‘bisexual.’ Friggin’ moron.”
“There is no need to be crass. But it means you like guys sometimes too, right? So you could still be saved?” There was almost an air of desperation to the question.
“It’s not something you can be ‘saved’ from, you sanctimonious windbag. Now say one more word and I’ll throw you out of the back of the truck.” That threat would have been much more convincing if the truck weren’t in the process of stopping.
They had arrived in what appeared to be a ghost town. There were boarded up old buildings and a smattering of derelict houses. “You live here?” asked Laurie with some contempt. They were parked in front of what appeared to be an Old West saloon. It appeared to be an all-wooden structure that was in miscellaneous states of repair.
“No, we live down there. Last house on the left.” The house Fredericka was pointing at was a well maintained, two-story, gothic-style house. A white picket fence and a number of flower gardens surrounded it. “I parked down here because the sound of this thing’s engine gives Jane a headache. We don’t know why.” She escorted the trio of frightened young women to the very comfy looking house. Heather noticed the young woman always seemed to have a spring in her step and was prone to random acts of twirling.
When they got to the front of the house, there was a woman waiting on the porch. From the moment the three girl’s eyes locked on that that woman, they realized that her presence almost screamed elegance. She was older than their rescuer, appearing to be in her early to mid thirties. She had straight, silky and smooth brown hair, and deep amber eyes. She had high cheekbones and a neck that might well be described as delicate. She was easily six feet tall, and she appeared to have a lithe figure with delicate curves under her silk gown.
“Thank you for remembering to park down the street, young one.”
“No problem. I know how your headaches can get.” Fredericka bounded up the steps and gave the graceful woman an almost childlike hug. But the kiss they promptly exchanged was far more mature.
“Unfortunately, Michelle’s chores have made more than enough noise. But enough of that. Who are these lovely young ladies and how did they come our way?”
The three girls were almost in awe of the woman’s presence. Her voice was perfectly clear and her manner of speaking was noble and articulate.
“Their car exploded. I’ll let them explain the rest.”
“Very well. Please go get Michelle and let her know that dinner is almost ready.” The woman turned to the three newcomers. “Again, where are my manners? My name is Jane Voorhees, and this is my humble home,” she said with a graceful wave of an arm. “Might I inquire as to the nature of your plight?”
“No, we weren’t flying, we were driving,” said Laurie while smacking her gum.
“She said ‘plight,’ not ‘flight,'” interjected Heather tiredly. “The short story is, we were on our way to Clear Lake to work as counselors for a religious-based band camp. We got lost . . . apparently, really lost . . . on our way. I took this road hoping that it might lead us in the general direction of where we wanted to be. Then my jeep blew a rod, and then it exploded.”
“My,” said Jane, her eyes wide as saucers. “You might consider yourselves fortunate to have escaped unharmed.”
“I guess so,” Heather muttered. “Anyway, could we borrow your phone? We need to call the camp, call my insurance people . . .”
“Yes, yes. Of course you can make use of our facilities. We will do whatever we can to assist you. And I insist on you joining us for dinner. I always make extra anyway. We’re having the most delightful chicken parmesan, fresh garlic bread and assorted greens. I hope that will be to your liking.”
The three girls were practically drooling, as none of them had eaten since early that morning.
“There you go,” boomed a voice from behind them. “You’re feedin’ strays again. Ya know that once they’ve tasted yer cookin’, they just don’t seem to leave!” The woman from whom the voice emanated emerged from the shadows behind them. The woman, who they assumed was Michelle, was huge. Not as in fat, but as in strong enough to throw a beer keg over a ten-foot wall as if she were playing volleyball. Heather was convinced the woman had been a bodybuilder at some point in her past. She was thicker in the midsection than most women she knew. Her arms were obviously powerful, her neck and shoulders were well-muscled and her face was a bit broader than the other two. But she was still a handsome woman, and she had the look of someone who, while powerful, had retired from active competition. She was wearing a leather smock that was stained in many places with a dark substance. The smock was straining against the woman’s more-than-ample chest. Heather had known some heavy lifters who got breast augmentation, so the woman’s bust-size didn’t surprise her. Michelle had spiky and short red hair, and she was just a few inches shorter than Jane. Fredericka came bounding up beside the intimidating woman, and Michelle blatantly grabbed her ass as she went by. The younger woman just smiled and continued up the steps and into the house.
Jane spoke to her as she went in, “Please set an additional three places for dinner. We have company.”
The ‘company’ was taken aback by it all. This was like some crazy dream. They just hoped it didn’t turn into a nightmare.
Jane spoke to them directly. “It might be a few minutes before dinner is ready. If you’d like, you could start making your telephone inquiries while we wait.” She escorted the three girls into the house. Even Laurie, a fashion snob, was impressed.
The interior of the house was immaculately clean and tastefully decorated. There were vases full of flowers and paintings decorated the walls. The whole thing just seemed . . . well, homey.
Alice was terrified. She kept looking at the muscular woman’s smock. “Does that look like blood to you?” she asked of Heather as her eyes traveled up and down Michelle’s front. Heather rolled her eyes.
“Excuse me . . . Michelle? This person next to me was wondering if that’s blood on your apron from some murder victim or another?”
Jane and Freddie stopped in their tracks with looks of utter bemusement. Alice looked absolutely embarrassed. Michelle seemed to be pondering the question seriously.
“Murder victim? Is it Friday already?” Then she smiled a big, Texas-sized grin. “Nah. A lot of it is from when I was using the chainsaw earlier, but what I was cuttin’ up was already dead.”
Alice gasped and looked ready to panic.
“Calm down! Damn this one is fun to play with! I was cuttin’ down standin’ deadwood sweetie. Leave it up and it turns into a fire hazard, and we’ve had a dry summer already. Wound up with a leak in the chain lubricant reservoir, and I got the shit all over me.”
Alice blushed, but whether from making a fool of herself or being called ‘sweetie’ by the powerful woman was a bit of a mystery to her.
Heather got on the phone and utilized a calling card to get a hold of someone at the camp. She told them of the situation and asked if someone might be able to come pick them up. Unfortunately, the camp wasn’t able to use the few vans it actually owned for non-camp activities, and none of the other counselors seemed willing to make the drive. Heather hung up the phone, bitterly cursing the whole lot of those hypocritical bastards under her breath. She then talked to her insurance company. The representative couldn’t help laughing when he heard about what had happened to the vehicle, which his client found less than amusing. He then informed her that, just as she had suspected, her policy didn’t cover that particular situation, but he did advise her to pursue the matter in civil court. At least that was a helpful suggestion, and she hung up the phone.