Behind the Fence, page 12
“Hello, may I please speak with Barney?” I tried to sound as professional as possible. As the person called for Barney to come to the phone I hoped I could pull this off. Barney had never talked to me over the phone, so I was hoping he wouldn’t remember my voice.
“Yo. Who'z thiz?”
“Hello Barney, this is Alice. I have been getting your messages and I would very much like to talk to you more about yourself.”...the moment of truth, would he think it was Alice or know it was me? I was hoping that his ego would get in the way. Barney would expect Alice to call him.
“Ya know, I don't like how'z you been ignoring me. That ain't right.” Oh no, Barney sounded mad. I needed to calm him for my plan to work. My blood curdled talking to him.
“I'm so sorry Barney, you were calling me at work. I wasn't ignoring you. I was just trying to lay low until my boss moved on to other stuff. I didn't want US to get in trouble. You know how it is...lame bosses and all...” I hoped appealing to Barney's dislike of bosses and using the term “us” would smooth his ruffled feathers. Even if he was still upset, I had to get him to be willing to meet me. At least to come and “teach me a lesson.”
“Ya, they can be assholes. I got more for your story.”
“Do you, really? I would love to hear about it. I could make you a star.”
Gotcha
You could almost hear the ego and excitement in Barney's voice. “I can come to your work.”
I kept calm, because so far so good. “Nah, I never meet people at my work. I like to keep everything secret until I report on the story. That way nobody knows about it. How about we just meet in a hotel room for a few times, so I can get your story?”
Barney couldn't resist meeting Alice in a hotel room. And he couldn't resist the opportunity to brag about what he has done and become famous. His mind was probably planning some sexual rendezvous. I gave him the hotel and room number. I reminded him to keep it secret from everyone, because if it wasn't, then I couldn't use the story. He promised, and I knew he wouldn't say a word to anyone, at least for a few hours.
A few hours later a knock came at room 407. My heart was in my throat and I felt a moment of panic that I couldn't do this. I took a deep breath and remembered the calming cool air from the night before. “Come in” I called as I stood behind the door. Barney walked in and was bigger then I remembered. My heart was beating so loud that I hoped he wouldn't hear it and turn around too soon. There was a bright light shining right at him, and I made it look like someone was sitting on the bed. He began to walk towards the bed. As I stepped behind him, closing the door, he began to spin around. He wasn't a very quick guy, but his size made him formidable. I had to do this quickly, or I would become one of the horrible tortured victims of his. I fired the taser gun. It shocked him and dropped him to his knees. But then he began to get up. I knew that Barney was a big guy, and a determined guy, but I figured it would still knock him down. I stepped forward and used my back up stun gun. Even if it killed him, at least I kept myself safe. One second...Barney was getting up, trying to grab me....two seconds....three seconds....he went back down on to his knees....four seconds...he began to twitch.....five seconds...drool....six seconds...he fell forward.....seven seconds....Barney forward, incapacitated. I immediately withdrew the syringe out my pocket and gave him a shot. Eleven seconds and Barney was out. There was no going back now.
It took me awhile to get Barney strapped down to the special chair I had made for him. This was a chair that I had put together in the hotel room. I had dragged up a heavy chair from the lobby, unknown to the sleeping attendant. There were tow straps for his legs, waist, arms and neck. I had the chair tied to the old heating system, which was solidly attached to the wall. It seemed like it was a solid way to keep him restrained for awhile. Plus the straps were just the right size and the chair could be untied and look like the décor of the room. His gag was put on just right. He was a big guy, and I struggled with his dead weight. As he slowly came to, I was sitting across from him. I had the bright light glaring down on him and the windows were blocked out. He blinked, trying to make sense of where he was and what was going on. I didn't say a word and just sat there waiting for him to become more aware. He slowly focused on me and the recognition dawned on him. Barney began to struggle and I held my breath. The chair held. He was secure. Barney wasn't getting out of that chair, ever.
He stopped struggling after about an hour. I stepped forward to him and offered him a drink of vodka. “No yelling, or I won't give you a drink.” He nodded. I undid his gag and let him have the whole glass. His eyes were murderous.
“When I get out of here bitch, youz so dead. You'z 'ave no idea who you just pizzed off.”
I smiled, trying not to show my fear. “More vodka?”
“Fuck you.” I put the gag back on. He struggled, bruising his wrists and neck.
I leaned in “Now Barney, I want you to listen carefully. You killed my friend and were going to hurt my other friend. I couldn't let that happen. There are rules for our time together. Follow the rules and I will let you go, don't follow them and you will suffer. Rule number one- You are not getting out of that chair. So don't even ask. If you have to use the bathroom, you are just going to have to shit yourself. Rule number two- No shouting. I will give you as much vodka as you want, but if you shout I will put the gag on and not give you any vodka. Rule number three- You will answer any questions asked truthfully. I will try to trick you at times to see if you are telling the truth. Now follow the three rules and you will be fine. Now, do you understand these rules?'”
Barney didn't do anything, he just gave me a murderous glare, which I expected. I knew he wouldn't agree, I just wanted him to hear my expectations.
“Okay, when you are thirsty and ready to agree, let me know.” I picked up the drop phone I had for this purpose and made a call. “It's done,” and hung up. That was my signal to Stacy to get the yacht ready, let everyone know it was a go and that I would be there in a few days. I then grabbed Barney's phone and began a text conversation between his phone and another burner I had. A conversation, that if anyone checked, would lead them to believe that Barney was looking for a good time and was asking around.
Eventually Barney began to mumble. He was ready for the gag to be taken off. So far, so good. He realized that he was going to need to figure something else out to get me and that arguing wasn't going to work. I gave him more vodka, and more, and more. At this point he didn't care that he had already pissed himself and was almost at the point to get the gag back on. The light glaring on him was making him sweat and was getting to him. He was at the point I needed him, angry, tired and drunk.
“Okay Barney, question and answer time. We are going to play a little individual therapy. If you are truthful, I will turn out the light and give you some water.”
“Sure...” He wasn’t quite slurring, but pretty close.
“Do you remember your social worker that you killed?”
“Yup”
“Do you remember the girl at the bar you tried to rape?”
“Nope”
“Do you remember the girl in the parking lot you raped?'
“Nope”
“Do you remember the staff you attacked and raped?”
“Nope”
“So you are saying you don't remember these people?”
Barney shrugged his shoulders, or at least as much as he could in the chair.
“I remember them, I ju'z didn't rape 'em. We fucked. They wanted it. They liked everyt'ing I 'ad to give 'em and 'ey wanted more.”
Typical answer. I should have known not to ask the way I did. Of course Barney didn't believe he had raped those women, he felt justified in his actions. If he had killed or raped Alice, then he would also feel justified for that. Least he was being honest, that's what I wanted.
“Okay, lets try this again. Do you remember being accused of hurting those women?”
“Yup”
“Good. Think of them.”
I got up and turned off the light.
“Get a good night's sleep. You're going to need it.” I put the gag back on and left the room.
The sun rose on the small kitchen table. The husband put a plate of eggs down in front of the woman. She sleepily rubbed her eyes and thanked him. It was evident she hadn't slept the night before. But, that wasn't unusual. She usually had a bad dream, or two, nothing that she remembered. Then she would get up, check the locks on the doors and realize she didn't want to go back to bed. Her tossing and turning would just wake up her husband, so she quietly closed the bedroom door and turned the TV on low. Putting the subtitles on, so she didn't have to have the volume up, she resigned herself to another long night of just sitting there. But it was better than the alternative of dreams and mind racing. It wasn't that she was thinking of the bad things that had happened to her, it was just that her anxiety always kept her in a state of high alert. So every sound, every thought, everything kept her awake. She had tried multiple different pills, multiple different oils, baths, and everything she could find to try to calm her mind. Nothing worked. Her anxiety became a familiar in her life. She lived with it, knew how to deal with it. Daytime was usually fine, she got lost in the routine of the day. But nighttime was her own personal living nightmare. And she lived it. Almost every night.
She didn't want those eggs, but took a bite just to please her husband. The phone rang. He answered, handed her the phone shrugging his shoulders. The conversation that then occurred brought her nightmare out into the day.
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I was so full of adrenaline all that day, that I fell asleep as soon as my head hit the nasty pillow. Throughout the night, I randomly would wake up and check the video camera I had in the room focused on Barney. He had fallen into a restless sleep. I'm pretty sure the vodka and shot I had given him earlier had something to do with that.
Six a.m. came pretty quickly. I went down to room 407 and let myself in. Barney was much more awake then yesterday, and he was super mad. I removed his gag.
“You fucking bitch, I've had it with dis. Let me go. I'm 'itting in my own piss and 'ave to shit. 'et me go.” He struggled and nearly got the chair loose from the heater.
I rolled up his sleeve, all the while he was trying to bite me and spit at me.
“Sorry Barney, you can't leave now. You have some visitors coming.” I injected a small dose of heroin in his arm, purposely bruising him. Slowly it crept over him and he stopped arguing. I put the gag back on and left the room. Now one would normally wonder how I knew how to get some heroin and use it. Years of listening to the guys behind the fence taught me some of the stuff I was using for this, plus buying it was super easy in a place like this. Leaving Barney to enjoy his high, I went next door to wait. Adjoining doors made it pretty easy to do.
Knock at room 409. I opened the door and standing there was a woman and a man. She was as white as a ghost, trembling and held onto the hand of the man very tightly. A tiny wisp of a thing, she wore her blue jeans and sweater as if she wanted to hide in them. She looked like she had not had a good night's sleep in a few days. The man seemed to be hovering over her very protectively, as I welcomed them in and asked them to sit in the cheap chairs.
“Is he really next door?” She was very pale
“Yes,” I responded
“And he can't move?
“Yes.”
She began to cry. It all came pouring out of her in a liquid confession “I tried to forget. I really did. Right after it happened I went back to my life like nothing happened. Then the terror began to creep back in. I found I couldn't use the bathroom in the bar anymore, then I just couldn't go to any bars. I stopped going out. I began to get scared that he would come back. That he would find me and finish the rape. The nightmares and fear. He stole from me the feeling of being safe. For a very long time, I thought it was my fault. That I had led him on somehow, that if I hadn't done this or that then he wouldn't have gone after me. I felt super cheap and began to have a lot of sex with a lot of strangers. I guess I was just supporting how low and cheap I felt. It took me meeting my husband to slowly start to be okay” She dabbed her eyes and managed a weak smile. “I'm okay now, this has just brought it all up again. Sorry. I got to the point where I just never thought I would see him again.”
Her husband put his arms around her and held her.
”My love, you don't have to do this.”
I agreed
“He is right. You definitely don't have to do this. You can walk away and never look back.”
She sat quietly for a moment, then shook her head.
“No, I need to do this.”
Her husband turned to me, “How do we know that nobody will know about this?”
I told him, with as much confidence as I could muster, “I promise you that no one will find out. I have taken many measures that this is a moment in time that will be your secret forever. I'm on the line here too.”
I stood up and handed her the key.
“Remember. Don't get close. I have him slightly drugged up. And when you leave here, leave all your pain here with him. Just lock the door and slide the key underneath when you are done. I will take care of the rest.”
She stood up and took the key. She and her husband walked out the door. I watched her square her shoulders and take a deep breath. It was a moment that she had dreaded but also had complete control over. I couldn't imagine what she was going through at that moment.
I heard the door close next door. I turned off the camera watching Barney. An hour later the key was shoved under my door. I waited for another hour, did some phone calling between Barney's phone and the burner, and then went into room 407. I took off Barney's gag, I gave him some vodka and didn’t let him talk. It looked like he had a black eye starting. I wonder who had hit him, the girl or her husband? I gave him another small injection of heroin, bruising him again. Now he sat in silence, not saying anything.
I waited for my next guest in 409, but she never showed. I figured that would be the outcome. When I had contacted her, she showed no interest in coming and was angry that I had called her. I knew that she wouldn't say anything. The others I contacted were initially shocked, and all took time to think about it, but they all had realized the opportunity I was offering and eventually went for it.
The living room was simple, modern. A white couch, metal coffee table, and an abstract on the wall. Light filtered into the room, making it look bright, almost cold. In the white chair sat a woman. She was staring off into space, deep in thought. She had put water on for tea, but, uncharacteristically, poured herself a bit of vodka instead that she kept in the cupboard for guests. Not that she really had people over ever, but she liked to have something to offer if the chance arose. She wasn't always like this. Once upon a time, she was warm, caring. Had a career. Had a life. But now she found she had to be strong. She pushed people away. She still thought she was warm, but little things began to change. She got rid of the comfy rug for a white one. The clean of white appealed to her. She had cut her hair short. She began to eat things that she only considered clean. She wanted people over, but then when that would happen it would cause her anxiety. Her space was invaded, she ended up cleaning till her hands blistered from the chemicals. So she was caught between wanting to want human interaction and dreading the repercussions from it. She looked around. It had been a gradual process. Removing her furniture for a different style, changing her look, changing her habits. She didn't even realize how far she had come in her change. A single tear rolled down her cheek when she looked at the wall that used to hold pictures of her friends and coworkers. One night she had removed them all and hung a non-descriptive picture on the wall. She angrily wiped the tear away. She wouldn't be a victim. She insisted that she was a survivor, but looking around she wasn't quite sure anymore. Her life had been changed. And now she was starting to realize she wasn't okay with the change. She began to process that maybe she could be a victim AND a survivor. Her hand had a little shake as she sipped her vodka. That call had opened up some wounds that she had convinced herself weren't there anymore. Slowly, in the silence of her apartment, she stood up. She knew she had some thinking to do. Shrugging her thin shoulders into her jacket, she decided to brave the dirty world out there and take a walk to process the phone call and what she would do. Would she take control? Would she take the steps she thought she needed to be both a victim and a survivor?
My next guest came a few hours later. We both didn’t say a word when I opened the door and acknowledged the presence of each other. She walked in all alone, her presence filling the room. A very tall and proud woman sat before me.
“And nobody knows about this. You can guarantee it?”
“Nobody. This is between you and me. You have my word. This is the opportunity I'm giving you to heal or to do whatever you need. Nobody will ever know.”
“But how do I know he won't tell, or won't come after me?”
“Don't worry about that. I have something that will make him forget each experience. Almost like a local anesthesia for the brain. He is aware, just won't remember. I guarantee that he won't remember anything.”
She seemed a bit better. “I know what stuff you're talking about. How'd you ever get that?”
“Don't worry about it. I am taking the responsibility for all of this. Do what you need to and I'll handle all the rest. The only thing you need to do, is when you leave, just leave your pain with him.”
She took a deep breath, as if she was drawing strength from the air. There was a moment's hesitation, “I'm really fine. He didn't do anything to truly hurt me.”
