She picked up the receiver.
"Hallo? This is Valardi house."
"You fucking whore," a voice blared in her ear. It took her a minute to recognize her father's voice, distorted by rage and a drunken blur. "You fucking bitch, I don't have idea of what the hell these two sluts did to me, but I'm sure it's all your fucking idea."
There was loud music and voices talking a mile a minute in the background. Her father sighed. "Anyway, you fucking slut, whatever it is that you did, I think it's the best damn thing in my whole fucking life, so thank you."
There was some noise, then she heard her father laugh and curse like she never heard him, and Heidy was on the phone.
"Hi, honey," the brunette said.
"What the fuck are you doing, you whores?" Sharon laughed.
"Yes, that, exactly," Heidy giggled. "A lot."
Sharon grinned. "I guess the black stuff worked."
"Like clockwork. Hold on..."
Sharon heard her friend talk away from the receiver. "Lower your voice, for Christ's sake... the neighbour will complain to the direction again!"
Then she was back online. "The Deacon drank it raw, and then he was gone. Real gone, the hard way. We took him to a motel by the turnpike. I guess the manager assumed we were just two hookers with a stoned john."
The blonde laughed. "And how's it going?"
Heidy laughed. "The stuff got a hold of him, like, instantly. It was uncanny. Now he's like a fucking rabbit. And he's still turning."
A woman squealed in the background, her squeal turning into a long vulgar laugh.
"Is Cassidy having a good time?"
A chuckle. "Oh, she's spent most of the afternoon on her back. But I did not hear any complaint from her."
"Sounds good," Sharon said.
"Believe me, your daddy's a hell of a lay. And the black stuff is doing some really good improvements on him. How's it going at home?"
Sharon looked up at the ceiling.
"My mom’s giving Ben a blowjob.”
Heidy laughed evilly. “I’d love to see that!”
“Me,” Sharon went on, “I'm going for some supplies, and then I’ll bring my aunt her holy communion.”
Sharon Valardi walked down the road towards the church, relishing the stares lingering on her bouncing tits and her swaying ass. But it was more than that. She had her leather jacket on, and she was smoking, her eyes hidden behind dark round glasses, her platinum blond short hair blazing like unholy fire. She was like an alien in this sedated community, like something from another world.
She stopped on a corner, trying to get her bearings.
A bunch of girls in their late teens and early twenties was standing by, looking at her like she was some kind of weird animal. Long virgin hair, clean faces showing outrage and maybe a hint of excitement, their bodies hidden by ankle-length skirts and shapeless sweaters. She smirked, crushed the butt of her cigarette on the ground, and walked up to them.
“Hi, babes,” she said.
The girls huddled together like a bunch of frightened puppies. Sharon chuckled at the idea that less than three weeks ago she’d been just like them. “I’m looking for a liquor store,” she said, shaking a fresh cigarette from her packet. “You gotta light?”
The girls looked at each other. She remembered Esther, the blonde with the button nose and the blue eyes that was staring at her, and Francesca, black-haired and surly. They had been in classes together, she and Francesca, and as she lit up Sharon saw the light of recognition sparkle in the brunette’s eyes.
“You are—” Francesca started.
“Looking for a drink,” Sharon cut her short, blowing smoke in her face. “I’m pretty sure there’s a liquor store hereabouts, but I can’t remember where the fuck it is.”
The girls gasped. Francesca was staring at her. She lifted a hand and pointed.
“Two blocks, that way,” she said.
“Thanks, babe. You saved my life.”
Sharon walked away, laughing to herself. She felt Francesca’s eyes on her back, and she could hear the girls chattering together like a bunch of chipmunks.
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