The Dark Inside (A Human Element) Page 7

  "Yeah, I'm sure."

  "Okay, but now I don't have my sacrificial friend with me to offer the street trash that jacks me up on the way out of town."

  "That kung fu grip of yours will ward off the trash. Now get outta here. I'll catch you tomorrow."

  "Okay, later, brah. Stay clean." Andy gave him the Hawaiian hand salute and made his way out through a throng of Marines, locals, aged women, and hipsters. It all created a blended, steamy smell of sweat, stale beer, and perfume. Andy was Ben's only friend. He accepted his moodiness and didn't ask questions. Ben found out one night on a drinking binge Andy had been orphaned, too, when he was seven. He lived in an orphanage for two years until he was adopted. They didn't talk about their past, but Ben knew it connected them. From what he guessed Andy had a rough time of it, too. He gave a final wave to his friend as he left the bar.

  The Johnny Cash wanna-be left the stage in a spattering of applause and a new band set up for the boisterous, late night crowd. Ben finished his drink and ordered another vodka, a double this time. He'd make sure it went down slow. He looked up. A tall man stared at him from across the far end of the bar. It wasn't a passing a glance. He had on a black T-shirt that stretched across his muscular arms and chest. Even in the murky bar light his bright, green eyes glowed eerie in the dim light of the bar. He looked familiar to Ben. He knew he had seen him before but couldn't remember where. The man nodded at him and then disappeared into the crowd, his massive body pushing through the throng of partygoers. Ben shook his head in puzzlement and wished he hadn't. The room spun a bit. His drink was almost gone already. Too soon. He sipped the ice in his glass and debated whether to get another. It suddenly reminded him of his foster father's drinking, his empty beer cans around the house. He didn't want to think about him. He wasn't like him.

  After watching Frank go up in flames four years ago, Ben jumped a bus for Florida. He landed in Orlando, and took on cleaning jobs at resort hotels to live. The day he turned eighteen he walked into the U.S. Navy Recruiting office in Orlando and signed up as an enlisted sailor. He yearned for free education, free food, and a regular paycheck. He knew he had no other options to survive. Besides, he was sick of making minimum wage to sleep in a cockroach-infested room stinking from overflowing trash dumpsters outside his window.

  After boot camp, he set off for Navy photography school in Pensacola, which got even better. He enjoyed the white, sand beaches across from his barracks and learning the photography trade. After graduating school and arriving in Pearl Harbor, Ben spent his duty processing Top Secret aerial photos of non-allied military locations around the world. The job was okay. He enjoyed more getting out of the photo lab and taking photos of command events and experiencing the beautiful island. And not just the natural beauty. He wanted to experience all Oahu had to offer, and in the way of women. A few times a month he would take a bus or cab to Chinatown and spend his paycheck on good music, drink, and a girl. Sometimes a cheap blow, other times the full deal. Tonight he wanted something else though.

  If this brunette was a tourist, her time here was short. Maybe she was looking for a one-night stand with a sailor. He had sampled slews of these tourist girls. If she had a hotel room nearby in Waikiki, even better. They could get rid of her short friend for a bit to have a good time. Ben kept several condoms on him just in case. He had tasty ones too for a good blow job. He wanted to keep clean. God knows you could catch any kind of disease from a Hotel Street hooker or even an all-American girl.

  Ben downed the last of his vodka as the buzz around him grew louder. The band rocked with Pink Floyd and Santana songs. He had waited too long to make his move when he looked over to see two buff men talking to the brunette and her friend. He knew immediately they were from the island Marine base at Kaneohe Bay. The brunette frowned and shook her head as her short friend grabbed her arm to pull her away from the bar. The Marines were drunk and leering at them. They must have said something obnoxious to the girls. The hard-core looking Marine leaned on the wall with his arm over the pretty girl's head. He loomed over her, a mass of muscle with a razor-sharp buzz cut and a large tattoo of Daffy Duck on his right arm. The leaner Marine grabbed the arm of the short girl while his muscle friend put his massive hand on the brunette's shoulder. She tried to shrug it off but he gripped her tight.

  Ben jumped off his bar stool and leaned into the bar as a wave of dizziness hit him. He knew he was drunk and any move to intervene with these two Marines was stupid. He didn't care. He still had a slim chance of getting rid of the obnoxious grunts, rescuing the girl, and getting some. Or maybe he was looking for a fight. He pushed his way around to the other side of the bar and put a hand on the big Marine's tattoo.

  "Hey, jarhead, why don't you leave them alone?"

  The Marine tilted his head to frown down at Ben, but kept his hand on the brunette's shoulder. She looked at Ben in relief.

  "Yo, squidy, is it? Why don't you go back over there and keep on looking, 'cause you ain't getting any of this."

  "Neither are you, jerk off," the brunette yelled, and shoved the Marine away.

  The Marine laughed and sneered down at Ben. "I just told her if a fresh, mainland twat came to NoHo she needs to get banged, and real good. And I'm the one to do it. What's wrong with that?"

  The brunette pleaded with her eyes for Ben to help them. The music and chatter roared around them. No one noticed them in the corner.

  "Yeah, what's wrong with that?" The lean Marine echoed his friend's sentiment with a grin. "Why don't you go back to swabbing the deck, skinny boy? I bet you bend over and give it to the officers good, don't ya?"

  A haze of rage hit Ben and he punched the smaller Marine in the mouth. He got another shot in across the grunt's nose when the big Marine lifted him up and carried him out the door, crushing him against the crowd. Ben forgot about the girls as he landed on hard asphalt and staggered up. The street reeled around him as blow upon blow hit him. He had found that fight.

  "Fucking squid, who the fuck do you think you are?" The big Marine roared at him, as his fists smashed into his stomach and face. Ben doubled over and fell to his knees. Blood dripped down. He wiped it away as the crowd that gathered to watch spun around him in a blur. The other Marine kicked him in the side and he fell sideways on the street, hugging his waist. From his view the brunette mouthed, "I'm sorry" as she ran off with her friend. The two Marines didn't notice. They were too busy beating the shit out of Ben. So much for being a hero. Or winning a fight.

  "That should teach you Navy fuckers to mess with Semper Fi."

  "Yeah, Semper Fi. Do or die!"

  They gave him one last kick as they laughed their way back into Hud's. No one helped him up. This was Chinatown after all. If you weren't dead, you were fine.

  Ben stood up slow. His side throbbed and his jaw ached, but the vodka flowing through him numbed much of the pain. Not so bad. He wiped the blood from his face and stumbled down Hotel Street. Out of the corner of his eye the green-eyed man watched him. He had his hands in his pockets and leaned against the window of a cheap gift shop. His black T-shirt and jeans blended into the shadows under the overhang. Ben stumbled on. A vague memory of that man from long ago hung in his head, but it was all jumbled up.

  Beat up and with no prospects, he needed to find a 'relaxation parlor' and some company. It didn't take long in Chinatown for him to be approached.

  "Howzit, sailor? You hurt? Need some wahine to take care of you?"

  Under a yellow sign blinking 'live nude shows,' a pretty Hawaiian girl smiled at him. On the wall behind her rose a giant mural painted rust red of a Vietnamese girl in traditional garb carrying a machine gun. In his fuzzy state, they looked both part of the mural. He wiped his hair back off his face and squinted at the real girl. She had long, brown hair and wore a white tank top over a mini skirt, reminding him of the girl in the bar. He knew he should just forget this night and grab a cab back to base to sleep off the booze. Instead, he walked over to her and smiled back. He could fi
t a quick blow in before heading home. She stood as tall as him in her low heels. He blinked to remove the double vision of her.

  "Maybe…you got a back room nearby?"

  "Yeah, yeah, sure thing, sailor buggah. Da cute! Pretty gray eyes, too." She mixed in the local Pidgin dialect with English. "I'll wash your handsome face for free."

  She laughed as he touched his face, remembering the blood. He must be a scary sight. She motioned him to follow her and took him down a side alley. Grabbing his hand she pulled him into a dark room, lit by a dangling bulb over a single bed. She pulled a sheet down over the door and pushed him down on the bed. He'd been in dozens of rooms just like this over the past few years. It was better than getting closer to some girl who might screw you over and leave you anyways. That's what all people do, hookers or not. Screw you and leave you. Life now was about taking what he wanted and not giving anything of himself away.

  "Kay den, pay up front, honey, if you want the real thing. $50 for ten minutes and a nice slow blow. Or $250 for thirty minutes and the full spread. You're pretty so I'll make it last. I'll go get something to wash your face."

  "Just a blow."

  Ben pulled the money out of his wallet, and a condom, and fell back on the bed with both in his hand after she left. The room spun. Hud's sure didn't rip you off on watered down drinks. A cool, wet rag moved across his face and he squinted in pain. It smelled like beer and perfume. He opened his eyes and she smiled at him. She had slanted eyes.

  "Are you Hawaiian?"

  "I'm a mix, honey. Homegrown Hawaiian with a bit of Chinese. It don't matter here, though, eh?"

  He shook his head and closed his eyes again, willing the throbbing throughout his body to go away. "Use a condom please," he whispered in a hoarse voice.

  The girl grabbed his money and condom and laughed. "Sure thing, sweetheart, since you ask so nice."

  The girl put the rag away and got down to business. She was true to her word and made it last. In his vodka-blurred condition he wasn't getting off so quick anyhow. She used her fingers and tongue everywhere. So good. He sat up half-way and cradled her head in the final moment. He pulled on her hair. It came loose in his hands. Was she wearing a wig? He shuddered and moaned as burning fire flowed through him. Then he passed out.

  He woke up to someone shaking his arm.

  "Come on, sailor boy, get up. You can't pass out here. You've been out another twenty minutes. You owe me another $200 or my man will kill me. He's waiting outside for me. He follows me and knows how long I been in here. He'll think I gave you the full thing. Okay wit dat?"

  Ben sat up and blinked. Why did she wait around? Easy money to swindle, he guessed. The girl stood over him. She was so tall. A dull hangover started in the back of his head. She bent down and shook his arm again.

  "Come on, you done here. Now pay up and get out. I've got other tricks to find. I'm sorry you beat up, but not my problem." She tapped her foot and waved her hands at him.

  Ben stood up and the room tilted. He steadied himself and stared at the girl's hair, now longer on one side. Then he remembered. He pulled at it and her wig came off in his hands. She yelped and grabbed it back. Only she wasn't a she. She was a he. It was clear now. There bobbed his Adam's apple.

  "Show me your tits," Ben whispered, enraged.

  He had to know for sure. He ripped the prostitute's tank top down on both sides to find a silicone filled bra and a chest as flat as his. He shoved the man away into the wall, who shrieked, clutching at his fake tits and top. Ben shook. He knew he would be sick and lunged for the door.

  "My moke come after you! You don't pay me for the extra time!"

  Ben turned around and punched him in the face. The transvestite screeched and fell on the bed, holding his face. He was a pretty, young man. A man who had sucked his cock and slid his fingers in his ass. And he paid him to do it. He doubled over and threw up all over the floor, then grabbed the sheet on the door to wipe his mouth and stumbled out.

  "You knew! You knew I was mahu!" The young man followed him out in the street and yelled at someone. Ben hobbled then mustered the energy to run. He ran in a jerky path down Hotel Street, looking from side to side for a cab to take him back to base, when a kick from behind his knees took him down. He fell on the street and gasped for breath.

  A massive local stood over him. He looked Samoan.

  "You cheat me, stupid sailor boy? Is dat what you want to do?"

  "Yeah, that's him, Koko." The transvestite stood next to his moke. His wig now back on, but askew. He smiled at Ben and put his hands on his hips. He had blood on his face from where Ben hit him. How could he have ever thought this was a pretty woman? Ben stood up in a torpid daze and shook his head. Before he could speak the giant grabbed his shirt and glared at him.

  "You see my girl here? You ruin her pretty face so she can't make tricks and I'll kill you. She's my money-making mahu. You want a beef with me, boy?"

  Ben shook his head again. He couldn't look at the hooker. It made him want to throw up again.

  "You pay up now. Price just went up. $300. Or you not getting home any time soon, 'kay den?"

  This night was going from bad to worse. Ben tilted his head back and laughed. Dizziness spun through him. People in the street spun around him, too. "I'm not paying extra for some homo to suck my cock. That's false advertising."

  He laughed at his own words, even as the first punch came. And the next one and the next one. The Samoan pummeled him until he couldn't see anymore. Blackness consumed him as he curled up in the street. The hooker laughed at him. "You crazy white boy, gonna get it now, real good!"

  Then Ben passed out. He woke up curled up in the same fetal position with breezes blowing around him. He was in a car. Why couldn't he see? He struggled and found his arms and legs tied. He put his hands to his face. A rough bag covered it. He screamed and threw himself around the car.

  "Yo, haole, keep it down back there," a deep voice called from the front. Two hands shoved him back down on the seat.

  "Yeah, sailor buggah. You gonna get really buggered soon," another voice called. It was the Samoan, Koko. Ben kicked his arms and legs trying to get at his captors.

  Then a hard punch to his head sent him back to darkness.

  About the Author

  Donna Galanti writes adult suspense and middle grade fiction. She is an International Thriller Writers Debut Author of the paranormal suspense novel A HUMAN ELEMENT (Echelon Press). She's lived from England as a child, to Hawaii as a U.S. Navy photographer. Donna dreamed of being a writer when she fell in love with the worlds of Narnia and Roald Dahl attending school in a magical English castle where her imagination ran wild in an itchy uniform (bowling hat and tie included). She now lives in Pennsylvania with her family in an old farmhouse. It has lots of writing nooks, fireplaces and stink bugs, but she's still wishing for a castle again. Visit her at www.donnagalanti.com

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  Table of Contents

  Introduction

  The Dark Inside

  The Well

  The First Time

  The Job

  Frat Night

  The Tree of Sheltered Secrets

  The Beginning

  A Lucky Strike

  Excerpt

  About the Author

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