Call Me Jack

©1995 -- K. A. Laity

N.B.: This story appeared in Wombat's World V1 N1

"Help."

She could barely breathe the word; why should anyone hear it? But the footsteps slowed, stopped, and after she counted many shallow breaths, came gingerly down the alley, cautiously as any city dweller would. As she should have --

"Oh my god!" He definitely saw her. She too saw him, though he was blurry in her vision masked by the red haze. He looked a little scary, but then he was young and that was the style after all. And he looked much less so as he turned hastily and vomited roughly on the garbage cans next to the dumpster. Hurry, she couldn't help thinking, hurry, I don't know how much longer I can keep this up.

"Oh god," he blinked at her, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand while his gaze moved helplessly over her body. "Oh my god!"

"Ambulance?" She formed the word but knew it didn't come out right. But it worked. He nodded quickly, several times, and made a couple of ineffectual grunts before reaching down to pat her foot. But his hand stopped just shy of contact and he smiled awkwardly toward her without meeting her gaze, turned and ran back down the alley.
Please call, she prayed to this unknown young man, please get me an ambulance. How long already had she lain here, watching the pool of her blood widen and feeling, oddly enough, too hot for the cool October night. Ten minutes? Thirty? Oh god, I'm dying, she thought and immediately choked back an involuntary laugh. Godspell, wasn't it? How could she be remembering lyrics from a musical she had seen twenty years ago. That night, all those years ago; how could she have known that now she'd be lying in a filthy alley, victim of the latest self-elected Jack the Ripper. How much could she have enjoyed the play then?

Ellen, Ellen, get a grip on yourself. Hang in there. But unbidden another lyric came to mind, this time from her daughter's favorite singer. Well, Tori, I have seen Barbados, but I do need to get out of this too, so maybe I will think of Venice. Venice, never been to Venice; the gondoliers, George Sand, romance, Waugh, what else? Somehow none of them would really become the vivid picture on which to fix her mind.

How could she have been so stupid! So vain! Because he was nice, because he was an academic in a tweed jacket, because she addressed him with a respectful "Professor" and he had smiled warmly, held her hand in both of his, and said "Call me Jack." A lifetime ago, was it? Or only three days--what did it matter, they were the same. Why, why why? Because I'm that certain age, she answered herself bitterly, where responses are few and far between; because I should have given up a long time ago, I'm too old; because I should have been more careful, I knew nothing about him. It was no doubt the long-lost eleventh commandment: Trust no one. Especially men who flatter women on the wrong side of middle age. Be fair, she sighed, feeling the wave of dizziness her anger had raised. The why is because he is a crazy bastard who enjoys killing women and I am winning because I am still alive, alive, alive. But how much longer?

There was blood everywhere. It ran under the dumpster and formed a pool in the darkness. It hardened on her outstretched arms. No doubt the same was happening on her legs too. As for her midsection, well, Ellen decided not to think about that. There were way too many openings there; she remembered seeing her skin flap out as she fell, thinking "this cannot be happening" and wondering how she could have been so wrong about Jack. Jack! Professor Harrison had seemed like such a wonderful gentleman--intelligent, witty--he had so many things to say about Eco's lecture which, she had to admit, had flown frequently above her night school training.

A smile rose to her lips. I bet he didn't even know what the man was talking about, I bet everything about him is a fraud. Professor, indeed! And I will make sure that everyone knows it too, I will make sure that everything he has ever done will come to light, all the way back to his childhood, where I'm sure he spent his time teasing dogs and pulling the wings off flies. Everyone will know what he has done to me -- he has no doubt done it to other women. But he made a mistake this time, thought Ellen, oh yes, a big mistake. Older women are like chickens, we just get tougher with age. She choked on her laugh and felt blood bubble out the side of her mouth. Not good, not good at all. But in the distance too she could hear the thin wail of a siren. It was far, not close, but coming this way, surely coming this way. I will survive, Ellen promised herself, I will. And surely too those were the footsteps of that young man returning? She would ask him to talk to her, to keep her holding on till they got here, to bundle her up and take her off to the shining hospital where they would put her back together again, stitch her up, and send her home.

Yes, the siren was closer now, the steps not far. I will survive, I will.


Originally composed for QPBC's "Eleventh Commandment" Short Story Contest in 1995.

Miserum Noli Irridere