Chapter 9

Pregnancy

It was a long walk back to the orphanage. She didn’t quite know where she was but after making it back into town, Dorothy was able to figure out the rest. The tomboy did well in her geographic studies so simply finding her way home was pretty much a walk in the park. Though in this case, the “park” took about an hour. Luckily for her, the rain had stopped, and being lost in thought had kept her from getting bored. Compared to Cap, Dorothy got bored pretty easily so when they went into Mrs. Beatrice’s home, and saw all of those wall decorations, she had to admit that was pretty exciting.

“Dorothy, I thought I told you to take an umbrella?” Sister Mary scolded the girl when she caught her walking through the hallway soaking wet.

“I did, the boy has it.”

“The boy?” Sister Mary asked with a slightly raised brow. The look of suspicion still firmly in her gaze. “He does have a name.” Dorothy simply stood there glaring up into the woman’s eyes, tired, and a tad hungry. Not getting a reply, Sister Mary said, “Since you’re needlessly adding to the mess today, go help Mabel with the laundry after changing.”

Dorothy turned and slowly marched away, leaving more water on the floor. Sister Mary watched her intently before her attention slowly turned towards a little one who slipped on the wet floor. Now in fresh new clothes, and having had her fill of snack, and drink, she stood in the laundry room folding clothes in silence with Mable who looked much better than before. Though she had bags under her eyes that made it clear she wasn’t getting much sleep.

“How are you doing, Mable?” Dorothy asked not taking her gaze from the task at hand.

“… That’s something I should be asking you,” Mable said. The teenager’s voice was perhaps the softest in the orphanage. She seemed so fragile, sometimes Dorothy wondered what would happen if she gave her an uppercut to the jaw. Was it possible to truly knock someone’s block off, Dorothy asked herself.

“You lost your boyfriend,” Dorothy said, causing Mable to stop folding for but a moment.

“Technically… yes. But he’s not really gone.” Mable mused. Dorthy frowned a little, hoping the next words out of her mouth weren’t about him being a ghost. “I don’t think you truly lose anyone. Yes… I might not be able to make new memories with him but… at least I still have memories of him. In my free time, I’ve been studying the human body. Do you know how many bones the human body has?”

Taking a deep breath, Dorothy answered.

“It varies from person to person for various reasons, but generally it’s around two hundred.” She said in a cold calculating tone.

“Correct, and did you know guys tend to have an extra bone in their bodies?”

Dorothy frowned as she quickly found this to be false, she opened her mouth to call Mable stupid but she cut her off.

“It’s their penis bone.” Mable broke out into a gentle laughing fit into the back of her hand. Dorothy stared up at her with a look of disbelief. Noticing that she was the only one laughing, Mable blushed and went back to folding. “Sorry… I thought it would cheer you up. You haven’t been doing well lately. I know because neither have I.”

“And what the hell does that suppose to mean?” Dorothy snapped, turning to face her.

Mable kept her eyes on her folding, not challenging the small girl’s death stare.

“… Because we’re grieving. With you being kidnapped, and… molested by those horrible men.”

“I wasn’t… molested,” Dorothy said while turning back to folding.

“Denial is the first stage of grief with anger being the second,” Mable explained. “I saw your clothes, they were ripped.”

Dorothy shook her head.

“That’s just because I was trying to find… find someone. My clothes must have snagged on some branches and thorns or something.”

Mable paused as she placed a knuckle to her chin, focusing on the memory of Dorothy’s torn dress.

“Oh, I did recall your dress having grass stains, and leaves on it. If nothing worse happened… then that’s a relief.” She said, with a palm over her chest. Taking another breath, she went back to folding. “Cap seems to be doing well, maybe. He changed into a nurse’s dress and simply refused to take it off when I instructed him to. He said he was doing it to help you get better. When I tried to stop him, he gave me the most uncomfortably innocent smile I’ve ever seen, it’s a tad hard to explain. He’s most certainly not the same boy from a few days ago. But his heart seemed to have stayed the same, his love for you I mean.”

Her words sank deep into her chest, threatening to slice her open like a fish. Dorothy strengthened her resolve, refusing to turn back on her decisions.

“You don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about.”

Dorothy picked up the basket of freshly washed and folded clothes before making her way straight for the exit. She stopped when two officers and Sister Mary stepped out in front of her.

* * * * *

Dorothy sat in a stone windowless room, not that she would have been able to see anything due to the lack of light outside. There was one large mirror on the wall that brought some interest to the empty room. She’d read enough to know that mirrors in rooms like these had people on the other side, watching, and studying any unlucky sap that got arrested. Aside from the metal chairs, and table, in the room with her was the ever-watchful Sister Mary who held the same cold stare as always. Not that she cared what the woman thought of her, but she did kind of wish she’d show some kind of facial expression. The door in front of Dorothy opened as a man in a suit walked in. Somewhat like Smiley but brown instead of all-black. He gave a nod to the one woman in the room, almost surprised that she was there.

“Hello, Sister Mary, I’m detective Martin,”

“You’re accusing an eleven-year-old girl of a crime right after she was kidnapped just yesterday, pathetic.” She snapped, causing Dorothy’s eyes to widen. Sister Mary stayed calm as always but her tone made it clear she didn’t fear his badge. A tone Dorothy had never heard before.

“I’m sorry, Sister, but what makes you think she’s being accused?” The man asked defensively.

“If you simply wished to question this young girl, you would have done so at the orphanage. Not in a building full of child murderers who hide behind their badges.”

“I only wish to investigate a missing man, and his son, ma’am.” He pleaded, firmly. Sister Mary said nothing else as she kept her belittling gaze locked on the officer. Taking a small breath, Detective Martin sat down across the table from Dorothy.

“Dorothy, I’m gonna ask you a few questions so I need you to answer me truthfully.”

He spoke in a soft tone that seemed to burn Dorothy. While she didn’t know the man, she for some reason considered him retarded. An unprovoked thought perhaps, but she couldn’t help but wonder about the man’s IQ. Maybe she got an ego boost, she thought. When Mrs. Beatrice had told her that Sister Mary’s orphanage was well-educated, she might have unknowingly gotten a superiority complex or even a god complex for killing a mouthy teen, and a wise guy looking for his piece of shit son. Not that she cared about thinking she was better than others but that level of thinking was something she didn’t want getting the better of her. She frowned when she realized the detective had asked her a question. She took a moment to recall his question.

“I never said I went to a gun range.”

“Your friend said you did.”

“He said, he… went to the gun range, and he’s not my friend.” She said, unblinking.

“I see… It’s normal for friends to part ways. Sometimes friends become… unhealthy. It does take a lot of strength to notice it, and step away.” He paused and waited for a response that never came. “The sisters at the orphanage tell me both of you hang out together even though he was the troublemaker, and you’re the proper young lady.” He noticed her gaze squint ever so slightly when he called her a young lady. “Tell me about your friend, Dorothy. What is he like or… what was he like?”

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“… He was tough, and teenagers were intimidated by him. But he both loves and respects Sister Mary.”

Glancing over at Sister Mary, Dorothy noticed the woman’s gaze became something she had never seen before. She still wore her cold belittling gaze but this time she appeared to be puzzled by this bit of information. As expected, Detective Martin noticed it as well.

“Is this true, Sister Mary?”

“Cap is a creatively troublesome child, who has the best grades of all my children.” Sister Mary said without hesitation. The look on her face went back to normal as she snapped her gaze toward the man. “He does as he’s told, but always manages to get into trouble. The child will keep his promises but would never promise to stay out of inconvenient situations.”

“You’re very attentive, Sister Mary,” He complimented. “He sounds like me when I was his age.”

“Cap has a higher IQ than most adults.” Sister Mary said, almost instinctively. An insult to make it clear she was not his friend. However, the detective took it in stride and chuckled.

“You’re right about that, Sister. Somedays I feel like I’m working with a bunch of knuckleheads.”

“Yes… With that being said I can’t currently read minds so I’m unaware of Cap’s feelings towards me.”

“You should give yourself more credit. Not many can do what you do.” She ignored his attempt at flattery. With a small smile, the man adjusted himself, sitting up a bit more straight as he directed his attention toward the girl. “So Dorothy, your friend… was your friend, and he was intimidating. I’m to assume he turned over a new leaf after you two broke up? Were you the troublemaker this whole time?” He asked in an almost teasing tone.

“You make it sound like we were dating,” Dorothy said with a small blush.

The detective glanced at Sister Mary noticing that she didn’t even twitch when he popped the question of the two dating. Something he found odd for a woman in her status. Any other nun would have been a tad bit more animated by this situation let alone by a question of a girl losing her purity before marriage. Instead, she sat there cold, and calculating, like a monk who had full control of his or her emotions. He figured after a few questions into the integration, Sister Mary would have to be removed. Perhaps he would try doubling down.

“Weren’t you two dating? Nothing to be ashamed of. Many people go on to marry their childhood sweethearts. I sure did, and now we have a family together.”

Dorothy felt as if she was losing her footing in this conversation, struggling to keep her composure as she lowered her gaze. The man clearly wanted information out of her but was going a roundabout way of getting it.

“It’s complicated.” She whispered.

“You were either dating or you weren’t.” The detective said, noticing Sister Mary directing her gaze toward the girl. Seeing it was working, he figured he needed one more push. “I just hope the troublemaker didn’t get you pregnant.”

The detective watched as Sister Mary opened her mouth to surely chew him out, but the woman was cut off by Dorothy.

“I am pregnant.”

This took the detective by surprise, barely even noticing Sister Mary closing her mouth to listen.

“Did he force himself on you?” He asked, seriousness draping over him like a blanket.

“No… It feels more like… I’m the one who forced it.”

“You don’t have to defend him. Boys like him are,”

“That’s not true,” She cut him off. “No one is like him. Most boys and men are retarted compared to him. I suppose I’m the one who’s trying to force him to be someone he’s not, someone he’s not anymore.”

“Sex and pregnancy at such a young age can ruin your life, Dorothy, and the fact that he manipulated you into it is in itself a crime, and can lead to prison.”

Dorothy finally looked up with wide eyes, scanning the detective as if what she was experiencing was a hallucination. In the blink of an eye, her face twisted up, and let out a snort. She leaned over the table and exploded into a laughing fit. The detective glanced at Sister Mary who was now directing her cold gaze on him. The girl calmed down, but just enough for her words to make sense.

“No, you fucken retard! Metaphorically speaking I’m pregnant, as in mentally, not acutely!”

“That’s not funny, Dorothy.” He said, growing noticeably irritated.

“It’s not funny!” Her laughing fit became nothing more than a chuckle. “Pregnancy sucks because it turns women into bitches, and men into pussies.” The detective was stunned by the sweet little girl’s foul language. “I bet you cried when you held your baby for the first time, huh?” She asked with a twisted, ugly smirk.

“Most men do but I don’t see how that,”

“And your wife had mood swings that made her a pain in the ass, right?” She asked, switching her smirk to the other side of her face.

“The pregnancy was difficult for the both of us, as it would be for any couple.” He explained.

Dorothy was taken aback by that statement as she realized something.

“You’re right, pregnancy can be difficult for everyone, and I’m just now realizing how selfish I’ve been.” Regret washed over her as she stared down at the table for a moment. She wasn’t sure how to fix things between her, and Cap but she knew the first step was communication. She popped up from her chair with a burst of energy. “So we’re done here, right? I’ve got somewhere I’ve gotta be.”

“I’m sorry, Dorothy but there’s still a lot we need to go over.”

“Oh, I can fix that no problem. I’ll just sit here, and not answer any more of your questions until you realize this investigation is pointless, and a waste of time. Wait,” She held up a hand, stopping the detective’s rebuttal. Glowing with her newly found conviction, she corrected herself. “This isn’t a waste of time… for me. While you’re questioning me, trying to get in my head, I’ve learned something about myself. A realization I’m not sure I would have discovered on my own. So I sincerely thank you, Detective Martin, and wish you the best of luck with finding the traveling father and son.”

“… Traveling?”

“Traveling,” She repeated with a playful smirk. “I’m assuming either of them got into some trouble and fled to start a new life somewhere else. It’s the most logical explanation. If they’re not here, then they must be somewhere else.” She explained, pointing her index finger from side to side across the table.

“Our witnesses say the boy took his father’s gun to the river to get back his father’s cigarettes that Cap stole. One admitted to the fighting by the bridge. He was a tad hesitant to admit that he was beaten up by a girl.” He said with a furrowed brow.

“Cap has been acting like a big pussy lately but he’s no girl. I know, I checked.”

The detective directed his attention toward Sister Mary, with eyes that asked, “Is this how all your children speak?”

“They go everywhere together.” Sister Mary began. “It’s been a constant struggle just to keep the two from bathing at the same time. I believe it’s some form of phobia that prevents one from wanting to be alone.” Sister Mary said coldly.

“Nope, I just love him like… extremely narcissistic conjoined twins.” She said with a big toothy smile.

Detective Martin grimaced at the statement while Sister Mary gazed over Dorothy, slightly puzzled.

“Perhaps the kidnapping has traumatized her more than I thought, and this interrogation seems to be worsening her already horrible condition.” She explained patiently. Sister Mary’s gaze slowly slid from Dorothy to the detective. Like a tired mother who had been fighting her little one all day, and the last thing she wanted was to be dealing with another problem. By the look in her eyes, the detective felt like he was the problem even if he was simply doing his job.

“I… I suppose we’re done here.”

“Great!”

Dorothy marched past Sister Mary as she stood. The girl wore a big smile on her face, seeming to ignore the woman’s studying gaze.

“Dorothy, I’d like to ask you to stay away from that bridge… to prevent another possible abduction. You got extremely lucky this time, trust me.”

All things considered, the detective sounded deeply sincere. He didn’t have to say anymore, given his line of work. Dorothy could guess the man had seen things he wished he hadn’t. Her smile turned into a curious smirk.

“I heard what happened to the guys that caught me with my bloomers down.” She pondered that for just a moment. Dorothy didn’t seem to care about the act of being kidnapped, for two reasons, perhaps three if she was being generous. One, it was a clear sign that she needed Smiley to teach her how to fight. Two, because she had too much faith in Cap to find her, for better or for worse, she thought, and three, maybe she was just too stupid to realize the severity of it all. At the end of the day, she said, “fuck it” to the latter. Admittedly she needed improvement in fighting, but she’d be damned if she considered herself dumb. Wrong maybe, but never dumb. “Shouldn’t you be trying to figure out who did that? Some kind of serial killer maybe?”

The detective gave her a puzzled gaze. Sure girls matured pretty fast but the fact this one knew about people who took manslaughter as a perfection made him concerned, and Sister Mary seemed to be the root of it. Was it possible she was just too good at teaching the youth, he asked himself. He gave a defeated sigh. Given how he stared right through her, the detective seemed shaken up by it all.

“I told myself I’d do my best to solve every case that comes across my table. But what I saw isn’t typical of… bad guys. At least not the bad guys that took out the bad guys.” He held up his hand to stop her question. “A kidnapping doesn’t warrant death, and the desecration of the body, at least not in these great states.” The detective leaned in close. “You either got lucky, and your kidnappers were the targets of some… crazy vigilantes or some cult is hunting you for some kind of indoctrination. Either way, you need to stay away from that bridge. If you can’t do that, Sister Mary will receive a heavy fine, and you may even be moved to a new orphanage, is that clear?”

Dorothy stared at the man, her smile wavering for just a moment. She wondered if the detective had the power to do such a thing. Researching that would require her to head back to the library, and to be honest, she was getting bored of studying. The girl figured she’d run it by Cap, that is if he forgave her. Now that she thought about it, he never said he forgave her in the past. She had dug herself a hole, and now she needed to climb out. Giving the man a pondering gaze, she thought about asking him how best to apologize to a boy. The man frowned, seeing that something was bothering the girl.

“What’s wrong?” He asked, genuinely interested. Aside from the foul language, Dorothy reminded him of his daughter when she had a question but didn’t know how or if she should ask it.

“What… do you do if a boy hates you?”

The detective surely thought she was gonna say something rude.

“Is this about Cap?” He asked softly but received no reply. If it was Cap, he couldn’t help but be perplexed by the question. The question seemed to imply that she had wronged him. Perhaps Dorothy truly was the wild child. “Anyone can say I’m sorry, Dorothy. But actions speak louder than words… as long as those actions don’t get you into trouble.”

She listened to him intently, hanging on his every word before her sad eyes snapped to a playful smirk.

“Don’t get into trouble? What are you a cop, some kind of detective?” She asked as she made for the exit.