Read Lucky Lucette Page 4


  It’s scary. Very scary.

  Justin:

  STAB, STAB, STAB!

  The ultra-sharp ice pick feels good in my hand. Finally getting to use it, I feel exhilarated!

  STAB, STAB, STAB!

  I’m getting my frustrations out. I take time out to guzzle another beer even though I’d gotten an adrenaline-charged rhythm to the stabbing, but I really need a drink. I’m on my seventh bottle!

  Woo hoo!

  My father can never drink as much as I can without totally losing it and peeing all over himself! I’m the champion!

  I empty the bottle in only a few seconds. Holy Moly! I feel invincible!

  Slab, stab, stab!

  My father, the big jerk, can’t hold a candle to me!

  STAB!

  I finish violently poking the fish I had bought at the grocery store. Unfortunately, I have to get on with what I’m about to do. Sneaking to the house as stealthily as I can, I leave the bloody fish in front of Ramadi’s front door.

  Hee, hee.

  Let’s see what he makes of so many hideously impaled fish on his doorstep. Stupid! Idiot! Jerk!

  I’ll teach Ramaldi to kick me to the curb as if I’m trash!

  Chapter 10

  Lucette/Araceli:

  I’ll be going to school soon, but the Sanchezes want me to acclimate to my new surroundings first. I’m relieved that I have a bit more time to keep changing my appearance. I had already gone back to my natural dark brown hair. During the time Alejo and I had been holed up in San Antonio because of the rain, I had dyed it myself. It had been a weird experience since I had had it professionally colored strawberry blond in salons for many years. No one except my parents knew my real hair color.

  Not even Justin.

  I would tell him I was going to the salon for highlights. He’d believe me not realizing I actually went through a whole process to get my hair the right color of blonde. It was the only thing my parents still paid for—salon visits and only because I had begged them. There was no way Justin and I could’ve afforded them.

  We barely made ends meet especially with all the money he spent on booze. Grrr! How could an underage boy get so much liquor? His stupid friends, of course! They didn’t care that they were helping turn him into an alcoholic!

  Thinking about that makes my blood boil, so I switch my thoughts over to the tasks on hand—making sure I totally obliterate my old image, so I won’t be recognized. Since the pregnancy, I had already started gaining some weight. Under those circumstances, the body changes no matter what. I quickly shut out the memories of the day of the miscarriage. Much, much too painful.

  Instead, I order myself to focus on my transformation. No more live Barbie doll image for me! That’s for sure!

  I had dieted for as long as I could remember, starving myself to be a size two. I had even resorted to eating cotton balls when I was hungry just to have something in my stomach to quench the growling but not make me fat. Gross, huh?

  That stuff is over! No more starving!

  Even when I got pregnant I’d watch what I ate. Awful, isn’t it? That’s how bad my obsession to stay skinny was, but my body got bigger anyway.

  Now, I would eat to my heart’s content. My life might depend on it. I have to change my outside. Good thing that the meals in this house are so finger licking awesome!

  I had already anticipated weight gain and had been buying an assortment of different sized clothes at yard sales. I’d hide them from Justin, so when I finally escaped from him, I had some clothes he had never seen along with the few pieces of stretchy clothing I had owned.

  All he had ever seen me with was designer apparel.

  Wouldn’t he be surprised to see me with used clothes?

  Justin:

  I’m getting real antsy. Painfully anxious. Overwhelmingly despairing. Time is passing and so far nothing. NOTHING!!! Ratchet tells me to be patient. Well, actually demands it. And you don’t argue with the guy if you know what I mean.

  I can’t afford another detective walking out on me!

  The only bright spot in my mood is the thing with Ramaldi. He strongly suspects that I was the one who left him the stabbed fish, but he has no proof. None at all. No neighbors saw anything. No fingerprints since I had worn gloves. Good thing Ratchet warned me. He said, “If you’re going to do something stupid, kid, then make sure to wear gloves for fingerprints.”

  I just love the twisted guy! Thanks to him I had gotten away with the stabbed fish incident.

  Hee, hee.

  It’s so funny the way Ramaldi called me and blew up, but I played my cards right. I played all innocent like a champ.

  I deserve an academy award! Of course, the idiot didn’t believe me, but what do I care? He can’t press charges on me without any proof.

  Idiot! Jerk! Incompetent piece of crap!

  When I think about the huge mistake he had made with Lucette’s cousin! He really made me look bad with my in-laws! They haven’t called me since. Before that happened, they’d often call me to see if I’d heard from my wife. They even sympathized with me!

  “Why would Lucette leave you and cause all of us so much worry?” they’d say.

  Now I’m certain that even if they hear from her they won’t tell me. Ratchet feels the same, so he’s taken to checking up on the airlines to make sure Lucette isn’t joining her parents in Europe, and he’s also been staking out their home. He tells me he’s an expert at surveillance. I have to believe him since he’s proven his sharp eye by not confusing Lucette’s cousin with Lucette. Lynette is still housesitting at the Nuñez mansion. Not surprising! She’s always been a kiss up with Lucette’s parents. She’s always been horribly jealous of my wife.

  Lynette’s parents don’t have anywhere near the money that Lucette’s mom and dad have. Lynette’s mother is sister to Lucette’s mom and it’s the Nuñez side that has all the outrageous wealth.

  Lynette I’m sure is playing the concerned cousin but in reality is just trying to become a second daughter to the Nuñezes. That’s what she’s always tried to do!!!

  I dislike her as much as Lucette does, but I have to admire her sneakiness and persistence in getting what she wants. Lucette’s parents adore her and look out for her—totally unaware that they’re being played. Hee, hee. They buy Lynette expensive crap, and let her go to all the frou frou social events with them. Lynette’s mother has always encouraged her daughter to stick close to the Nuñezes, so that their uppity status might rub off.

  In fact, Lynette got her name because it sounded like it made a good match with Lucette. Even her name is counterfeit! I guess the girl was doomed to trail Lucette, who was born a few weeks before Lynette, from the very beginning.

  I kinda feel sorry for her—being just a copy of the original. Lynette is a mere and pale imitation of Lucette. She copies everything she can of Lucette: same hair color and style, same kind of designer clothes, same ultra-skinny body type, same everything she can get away with.

  “Take it as a compliment,” I’d tell my wife when she complained about Lynette’s obsessiveness towards all things Lucette. I’d chuckle about it. After all, there was only one Lucette.

  And she belonged to me.

  Chapter 11

  Lucette/Araceli:

  I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I’m thrilled about the weight I’ve gained! This is the largest size I’ve ever been.

  I don’t look anything like I used to.

  And I couldn’t be happier!

  I’ve even thrown away my green color contacts and am back to hazel eyes and glasses. Luckily, I had an extra pair that Justin never saw. Wearing glasses makes me feel like I’m looking at life through windows and that I’m not in the thick of things. I’m at a distance to whatever horrible event that can happen. Since I’m starting school soon, I’m very relieved that I can glide through the real world by watching it with remoteness.

  At least that’s what I keep telling myself. But late at night, when I??
?m snuggled into my twin bed, reality comes slapping me around. My mind is getting ready to rest and suddenly my past rears its monster head.

  I go over horrible images that I’d been pushing deep inside of me in order not to become overwhelmed and lose my nerve to stay hidden.

  The baby.

  Justin had gotten so furious that tragic day. He thought I had been flirting with a neighbor when all I had been doing was asking for a cup of sugar.

  A cup of sugar! Can you believe it!

  A cup of sugar cost me my three month pregnancy and almost my life.

  “Why were you talking to that guy?” he had roared.

  “I wasn’t,” I nervously stumbled. “I—”

  His face was getting that look I feared so much, the one that turned it beet red and his eyes into exploding firecrackers. “Don’t freakin’ lie to me!!!”

  “I’m not. I—”

  “Liar!”

  “I was asking for a cup of—”

  WOP!

  He punched me right on the stomach. I was next to the stairs in our apartment—a small townhouse with two stories. It had happened so fast that by the time I tumbled to the bottom of the stairs I lost consciousness.

  When I woke up, I was in the hospital. My parents were by my side with red eyes and splotchy faces. According to the doctors I almost died. Justin played the part well of a doting husband, telling everyone how I had accidentally fallen on the stairs but that thank goodness he had been there. He tearfully said he blamed himself for not being right next to me on the stairs to grab onto me when I had tripped. My parents, who had never liked him very much, put their hands on his shoulder in compassion. Sobs burst out of him when he talked about how close he came to losing me. A few moments later, when I miscarried, he even cried and pounded his chest and wailed.

  I just stared at him.

  Horror overpowering me.

  Fear imprisoning me.

  In private, when Justin was at work, I hinted to my parents about going to their house instead of my apartment after the doctor had discharged me.

  “You can’t leave poor Justin alone in this,” roared my father. “He’s suffering as much as you are.”

  My mom nodded. “You have to comfort one another through this terrible time.”

  It was in that instant that I knew without a single doubt that I was alone in my predicament.

  Justin:

  I still love my wife.

  I know that’s hard to believe. How can I still love her with all she’s done to me?—lose our baby and run away. I have to think those two incidents are related.

  Why else would she run away from someone who loves her so much?

  It doesn’t make sense. But what does make sense is that my love is unconditional. So, I can honestly say that my love for her hasn’t reduced itself even one small iota.

  No!

  In fact, it’s increased if anything. Now being without her I realize how much I need her. I miss her so much I want to burst!

  I’m one hundred percent convinced that the miscarriage has made her crazy. She must feel all kinds of guilt at having provoked me that day with the neighbor.

  Grrrrrr!

  Just thinking about that day makes my blood boil to nuclear heat! She didn’t see me behind a tree witnessing what was happening between her and Scott. Sometimes I did that— use my lunch hour to make sure she was okay. I’d eat a sandwich outside our apartment behind a tree and keep my eyes open for any funny business.

  Taking care of my wife was on the top of my list!

  There are so many crazy people in this world! I had to make sure my lovely Lucette was fine. When Scott moved in I knew I had to double my efforts to care for her.

  He’s a slick one that one with his nice suits, expensive haircut, and fancy job at the electric company. A young professional! He thought he could slick up my wife! He thought I’d stand idly by as he tried to take her from me!

  No way!

  I told Lucette to keep away from him, but she didn’t listen! I was only looking after her!—she’s so naïve that she doesn’t see the bad intentions in people. Besides, I think she liked getting this dude’s attention like she did in high school when all the guys would stop what they were doing to stare at her.

  Her disobeying me infuriated me! All she had to do was stay away from Scott! That’s not a lot to ask of your wife—that she stay away from a slick, fancy jerk! Before I knew it I was in her face. She made me so furious trying to excuse herself that I walloped her, and then she lost her balance and fell on the stairs.

  Why did she make me do it?

  I’ve asked myself that question millions of times. Why does she piss me off when she knows how passionate I am?

  Why does she make me hurt her?

  I just hope I can control my temper when I see her again.

  Chapter 12

  Lucette/Araceli:

  My life is so strange now. Yeah, strange as in odd and not weird. Odd because it’s so different from what I’ve ever experienced before. Of course, the Sanchez home isn’t the least bit weird. Even though it lacks high-end decor, it’s no less warm and welcoming. In fact, it’s probably because of its unpretentiousness that it takes me in with wide open arms like my parents’ mansion never did. Frankly, the manor had always felt more like the museum than a home to me. Ever since I was a child I was prohibited from touching or being near certain expensive art. I’m free to roam the Sanchez home as much as I want. Yesterday, I accidentally tipped over a flower vase and it shattered. I was horrified, but Mrs. Sanchez laughed it off.

  “It’s time for a new base,” she declared matter-of-factly.

  I adore her for trying so hard to make me feel comfortable in her home, but I have too many overwhelming emotions dancing inside of me, not knowing what to do or what they’re supposed to be. In just a few months my life has turned upside down several times!

  First, I’m lucky Lucette, then I meet Justin, then I get pregnant, then I get married, then Justin starts beating me, then I have a miscarriage, and then I finally I escape!

  And here I am having to depend on the kindness of strangers. It’s bizarre to realize that less than half a year ago I would’ve looked down my snob nose on the Sanchezes because of their lack of wealth. What a silly girl! After having lived my own personal hell in the apartment with Justin, I’m in some kind of heaven now. And it doesn’t matter at all that my surroundings are not up to my parents uppity standards.

  Why should something like that matter when after what I’ve been through? Now I know what to value, and it’s not expensive stuff. I value freedom, free will, warmth, caring, and authentic love.

  Yet, I can’t seem to shake off the feeling that with Justin out there, I’ll never be able to fully plunge into what I now value. I’ll never be free! I’ll always be scared! Justin has tainted me forever.

  One day, Mrs. Sanchez asks to speak to me. Her face is solemn and concerned. I’ve tried to be as sociable as possible, but I still find myself spending most of my time in my room under the bed, hoping that if Justin is looking for me he won’t be able to find me.

  “Araceli,” Mrs. Sanchez says with her friendly eyes intently on me, “I hope you know how happy Mauricio and I are to have you with us.”

  “Thank you,” I murmur.

  “I want you to know that you can talk to me about anything.”

  “Thank you,” I repeat.

  “Mauricio and I know your situation.”

  “You do?!” I blurt with surprise. Alejo never told me how much the Sanchezes knew. I assumed they knew some of my situation but not all of it. I just supposed I should keep my mouth shut.

  “I know that your real name is Lucette, but it’s important to just call you Araceli because we can’t afford to make a disastrous mistake.”

  I nod. It seems they know more than I thought they did. “A mistake like that could be deadly.”

  She gasps. “God forbid.”

  “I can’t thank you and Mr
. Sanchez enough for risking your lives by taking me in,” I proclaim, tears rolling down my eyes.

  Mrs. Sanchez hugs me. “You’re such a brave girl. You’ve had such suffering happen to you. How can we say no to such a remarkable girl?”

  “I’m not remarkable,” I burst. “I’m not brave either.”

  Mrs. Sanchez pulls me away from her to make me face her puzzled eyes. “Why do you say that? You were remarkable enough to realize you needed out of a very bad situation, and you were brave enough to escape it. Yes, you most certainly are remarkable and brave!”

  “I’m just some clueless girl who brought all the bad stuff on to herself,” I blurt.

  Mrs. Sanchez vehemently shakes her head. “No one deserves to live like a slave under another human being.”

  “I’m the one who chose badly.”

  Mrs. Sanchez’s eyes me as she places her hand on my shoulder. “Human beings make mistakes. It’s all part of life. What’s important is that you realized it and here you are with people who will nurture you.”

  I really adore this woman—this mother figure. For her sake and my own I try harder to leave my room and go to places with the Sanchezes like to the movies and the grocery store. I try to look happy, but deep inside I’m still hurting and trying to get used to my new life.

  The saintly Sanchezes decide to throw me a going-back-to-school fiesta, so I can feel more comfortable with their extended family. I would be attending high school with some of their family members, and the Sanchezes want to make certain I don’t feel so alone in a new school. They had not overwhelmed me with their clan yet and had given me much needed space.

  Since first coming here I have learned a lot about my guardian angels which is what I’ve taken to calling the Sanchezes in my head. You’d also think of them as angels if you knew what I know. When the Sanchezes had found out they couldn’t have children, they decided to dedicate themselves to helping kids from rough homes. They became foster parents! Several kids had been cared for by them and had already had to move on because of age or because they were back with their biological parents. As the Sanchezes were looking for another child to foster, they were told about me. They didn’t hesitate to take me on even when they knew the terrible risks involved.