The Truth About Charley
WARNING: This story has rather graphical and explicit content, so sensitive readers should not proceed beyond this notice.
It was exactly two days before Thanksgiving, 2002.
The last thing Tandie remembered before regaining consciousness, was Walter pouring her self and Charley a lot of champagne, celebrating the holiday and Charley's departure from what Walter called "his little circle"
Charley was only a year younger than Bess and had joined them only a few months before. Walter met Charlene Donald while she was working at The King Henry The Eighth bar as a stripper that past May and offered to help her get away from that life if she would allow him to train her to be one of his "girls" who did special favors for him. Charley didn't hesitate to quit the job and move into the apartment next to Bess's. After awhile, Charley got increasingly uncomfortable having to swindle money from old rich men for Walter and was exhausted by his constant sexual demands. Charley sometimes looked at Jasmine and saw the same look of desperation and wondered why Jasmine didn't just leave.
Tandie heard loud music emanating from Charleys bedroom (she thought it sounded like Heavy D. and the Boyz, but she wasn't that up to date on rap music, so it could have been Tupac for all she knew). Tandie just lay on the couch, debating getting up and going back to her own apartment, when she heard a scream from the bedroom. She jumped up and ran into the bedroom and stopped dead in her tracks. There was Walter, lying naked across a naked, prone Charley with his hand around her neck. "Tandie," she cried out, "help me…"
Walter looked up and saw Tandie in the doorway. "If you don't want a little of the same my dear," he snarled at Tandie, before turning his attention back to Charley, "I'd stay right where I am."
Tandie gulped and continued to stare, despite every thought to turn away or close her eyes. Tandie noticed a circle of blood around Charley's nipple as Walter continued to thrust himself in and out of the crying woman.
Tandie wasn't sure what it was exactly that Walter wanted her to see. Her eyes widened as she then saw Walter place both hands around Charley's neck and squeeze. Charley gripped his wrists, trying to pull him off of her as she gasped desperately for breath.
Tandie grabbed her own neck as though she were experiencing a "sympathy choking" as her head started to swim. She wanted to run. She wanted to grab a knife and stop Walter but fear had forced her to stay where she was. At that moment, Charley went limp and Walter groaned as he came. Walter than looked up at Tandie as tears began to fall from her cheeks. "No one leaves," Walter stated, panting, "no one leaves me unless I want them gone. Just in case you get any ideas Tandie.."
At that moment, Charley's eyes fluttered and opened. Walter stood up and stared at her as she started to cough. He looked over to Tandie, then to Charley again, then picked something up off the end table. As he leaned over to Charley again, Tandie could clearly see a paring knife in his hand and froze again.
Walter placed his hands over Charley's mouth and drew the knife sharply across her throat. Tandie watched as blood gushed everywhere. Walter then plunged the knife into Charley's breast, and non-chalantly walked into the bathroom to clean the blood off. Tandie ran over to the bed and brushed the hair away from Charley's face as she slowly choked to death on her own blood. She then stroked her cheek as she gurgled one last time. Tandie tearfully kissed the dead woman on the forehead as Walter strolled out of the bathroom. "Touching," he scowled, "do you see what I have wrapped around the handle of the knife?"
Tandie looked up at him in disbelief and nodded. "Good," he replied, "now, without removing it from her body, take it off the handle."
Tandie wasn't exactly sure why Walter taped a piece of newspaper around the handle, but she was too afraid and tramatized to question him, and did as she was told. "Now," Walter instructed, as she finished the task, "remove the knife."
Tandie looked over at Walter, who was calmly putting his clothes back on, then looked down at the knife protruding from Charley's breast. She took a deep breath, gripped the knife in her hand and pulled it out.
There was more blood. Tandie started to feel woozy. She placed the knife on the bed next to the body and stared at Walter. "I am going to get something to put the body in," Walter stated, tucking his shirt into his pants, "when I get back, I want to see this mess cleaned up. Clean up the body, wrap her up in the blanket. Anything else with blood on it, put it in a pile and we'll take it somewhere and burn it. Clean the blood off of everything else, wrap the knife up with the body. I'll be back in approximately forty-five minutes."
Tandie stood up and looked at the body again. Walter took one last look at the dead woman and walked out the front door, locking it as he left. Tandie sighed as she grabbed the body by the legs and began to pull it off the bed. She miscalculated the weight of the body, and cringed as it slide off the rest of the way on its own and entire body hit the floor. Tandie bent over and lifted the body up by the shoulders, and managed somehow to get it into the bathtub without a lot of struggle. She turned the shower on, letting the warm water cascade over the dead flesh. Tandie then hurried back into the room with wet washcloths and started wiping blood off the wall, the headboard of the bed, and then she did a once over of the end table and everything sitting on top of it, just in case any blood splattered on anything.
She didn't know how she managed to do everything he wanted her to do, but when Walter showed up again forty minutes later, she was done. The body was wrapped up neatly into the blanket, the sheets and pillows she placed in a neat pile on the floor, and everything was cleaned up beautifully. Walter looked around and smiled. "Great job there Tandie," he complimented her, "you watch a lot of those crime shows or something?"
"Sometimes," she mumbled, as he tossed a large shipping box on the floor.
"Put the bloody items in here," he ordered, "then take off your clothes and bring them to me."
"But, I…"
"Just go in the bathroom and take your clothes off, I have a change of clothes for you. When you hand me the soiled ones, I'll give you the clean ones, now go.."
Tandie hurried into the bathroom and stared at herself in the mirror as she removed her bloodied clothes. As she handed them over to Walter, he handed her a pair of her jeans and a tee-shirt. Tandie felt uncomfortable walking around without a bra and panties underneath her clothes, but considering what she just witnessed, she would be glad when the night was over. "See those trashbags I brought?" he asked when she emerged from the bathroom, She looked over towards the bed and nodded. "Take those and place all her belongings in those bags," he replied, as Jeff walked into the room and started to remove the box of bloodied linens from the apartment.
Tandie obeyed.
The rest of the evening was spent throwing Charleys belongings in numerous dumpsters, watching as Jeff made a bonfire out of the box of bloodied linens in an empty dumpster behind their apartments, and being dragged out to an empty lot behind the Southern California Regional Occupational Center in Torrance and forced to help Jeff dig Charleys grave. As Jeff rolled the body into the shallow grave and started to fill in the whole, Walter put his arm around Tandie.
"Your fingerprints are on the knife," he told her empathetically, "I also put your clothes with her blood on them in a safe place. If you ever try to leave me, even if you get away from me, the police will get a phone call and get all the evidence they need to convict you of Charley's murder.."
"But I…"
"Doesn't matter. Who will they believe, a nineteen year old misfit who ran away from home three years ago, or an upstanding member of society who felt bad for you?"
Tandie stared ahead and continued to watch Jeff until the grave was completely covered.
She would continue to have the same dream of Charley screaming at her for help from her grave over the following months. Bess and Jasmine became concerned about her unusual quiet at Thanksgiving Dinner. She didn't know how she would face another Thanksgiving, or even listen to a Heavy D. song again without having a complete meltdown.
Every night as she closed her eyes, she saw Charleys "Freaky" tattoo on her left shoulder. She wondered how long that image was going to stay with her. She wondered how long the whole scenario was going to stay with her.