Buried Underwear

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Warning. This story contains explicit language. The language is necessary to illustrate the character

Buried Underwear

Thanks to Angel Swanson for this story idea

         The first time Vonna considered levying a curse on Franz was when he broke her jaw.

         She never went to the hospital. She never went to the police. She just didn’t open her mouth for several weeks and when she finally could open her mouth, it wouldn’t open all the way and it made a cracking sound. She could eat and talk, but yawning was right out. Her mouth would make it halfway to the yawn and then the excruciating pain would bring tears to her eyes.

         Her punishment from Franz was always for something stupid, and each time it came with a blinding quickness that prevented her from protecting herself.

         The broken jaw was payment for parking the car wrong. Somehow it wasn’t lined up just right at the curb and when she stepped out of the driver’s seat, Franz was there. His face was blotched with fury and because he was too much of a coward to strike her outside where the neighbors could see, he dragged her into the house. Once inside, he grabbed a fistful of her thick brown hair and pulled as hard as he could.

         “Franz, stop it!” she pleaded.

         Without a word, he backhanded her from right to left and she fell against the front door.

         Vonna was weak and she knew it. There was no question in her mind that violence begetting violence was all wrong. It just wasn’t in her to fight back.

         She went to her friend, Bettina. She could tell Bettina anything. Bettina was always on her case about leaving “that sorry excuse for a man.”

         “You can come here. Live with me,” Bettina begged.

         “He’ll find me, Bettina,” was all Vonna said.

         “It’s time we took alternate measures,“ Bettina said, as she thoughtfully curled one strand of her jet black hair around a finger.

         Bettina took Vonna to old Maggie. Old Maggie was in her 80’s and lived with a bunch of cats. The last cat count was nine, but Maggie’s place never had that cat stink about it.
         Maggie was rumored to dabble in the occult, but more importantly, for Bettina’s and Vonna’s purpose, Maggie was thought to be a Mistress of Hoodoo.
         Now, no one really believed this – it was just a lot of fun to laugh about -- but Bettina knew better. She was convinced that Hoodoo was worth looking into.

         “What have you got to lose?” she asked Vonna.

         Vonna shrugged.

         “If you don’t do something, next time, it might be your teeth,” warned Bettina.

         Maggie’s little cottage was bright and sunny. Cats were curled up everywhere. Vonna and Bettina had to lift one fat tabby from its place on the couch, so they could sit.

         Maggie sat in a rocking chair, a sleek, black kitten on her lap. She took one look at Vonna and said, “The dirty underwear is your best bet, my child.”

         “Isn’t she supposed to smoke a pipe and cackle at me?” Vonna nudged Bettina.

         “Shut up and listen.”

         “Yes, my little helpless one, the dirty underwear is the one.” She turned to Bettina. “You know the spell.”

         “Hell yes! I used it on Eddie! He couldn’t get into the house and he never came back!”

         “Okay, you show her what to do. I will say a prayer for you tonight, for you, little Vonna the Timid.”

         As they left Maggie’s little house, Vonna peppered Bettina with questions. “How did she know my name? Why would she pray for me? Isn’t this like the dark arts?”

         “Well, Hoodoo is questionable," said Bettina. “But Voodoo is a bona fide religion. All that crap in the movies is wrong about Voodoo.”

         Long before Franz came home from the tavern (bleary-eyed, weaving and angry), Vonna and Bettina dug a hole at the bottom of the front doorstep. In it, they threw a dirty pair of Franz’s underwear.

         “It has to be unwashed,” Bettina explained.

         “I’d like to light it on fire,” Vonna said, getting into the spirit of things.

         “No, you’ll screw up the curse.”

         “What will this do to Franz?” Vonna asked.

         “Girl, I really don’t know,” said Bettina, “but I hope it does something, because one of these days, he’s gonna smack you in the kidney and you’re gonna lose more than your ability to chew properly. “

         They refilled the hole with dirt and laid the green sod carefully back in its place.

         “If he notices these cuts in his lawn, he’ll be mad,” said Vonna fearfully.

         “If he comes home drunk, honey, he won’t notice diddly,” assured Bettina. “Now it’s time to say the spell and walk over the underwear.”

         The girls stood solemnly before the little patch of grass and recited.

         “As I step into the light
         Let my demon lose his might”

         “Now we sprinkle the powder she gave us,” Bettina said, withdrawing a small pouch made of gunnysack from her purse.

         “What’s in that stuff anyway?”

         “Hell, if I know. You got to trust, Vonna. It might be cinnamon, it might be rat poison. What do we care? You just have to have faith, Vonna.”

         Vonna stood rooted in the gathering dusk. Bettina could see she was losing her gumption.

         “Vonna, you have to be the one to sprinkle it. It won’t work if I do it. Then we have to walk over the grass. It’s like a little grave, you know?”

         Vonna took the bag and emptied the powder onto the patch of sod. Then she and Bettina took one step over the grass.

         “You better get out of here before Franz comes home. He doesn’t like me to have friends over.” Vonna looked worriedly down the street, fully expecting to see Franz’s restored GTO cruising toward them.

         “Call me,” Bettina said, waving goodbye.

* * *
         When Franz got home Vonna was cooking grilled-cheese sandwiches.
She heard him enter the house, throw his keys on the foyer table. She wondered how he was able to get inside the house, remembering Bettina’s curse on Eddie, but Bettina said all curses were individual. Vonna cringed outwardly, knowing what was to come, but inwardly, something in her was growing; a curiosity, a strength.

         “Grilled-cheese sandwiches, again?” he complained, the beer and stale garlic bread oozing out of his pores.

         “And fuck, do you have to put those flower planters where I’ll trip over them? Can’t even get up my own goddamn front steps.”

         Now Vonna knew the planters weren’t even conceivably in Franz’s way, but it was like him to make up problems to snipe about even when there weren’t any. Still, she wondered if the buried underwear had anything to do with his stumble on the stairs.
         She flipped over the evenly-browned sandwich just as the blow came swiftly from her right. But he missed. She felt the air swish by her and she turned to see him catch his balance.

         “Goddamn!” he slurred, one hand steadying himself on a kitchen chair. “You think you can keep from burning a stupid sandwich?” And he swung again. He should have hit her, square in the cheekbone, but he missed again.

         “Where do you think yer goin?” he yelled at her.

         “I’m standing right here, Franz,” she said calmly, “cooking your stupid dinner.”

         “You don’t talk to me like that, bitch—“ and he swung again. This time his round-house missed her by a couple of feet and he landed on the floor.

         Vonna couldn’t understand why he was missing her, unless . . .

         “Why can’t I see you, dumb bitch. I know yer there.” Franz rubbed his elbow where it had taken the impact of his fall. “Christ, I can’t see much of anything,” he mumbled.

         Courage sprouted in Vonna, like a geyser. “Maybe if you didn’t get so soused, you could see straight,” she said, removing the last of the sandwiches from the pan.

         “Don’t you dare use that tone of voice with me!” he yelled. “Uppity bitch. If there’s one thing I can’t stand is uppity women. Snooty little shitpants is what you are!”

         Franz slowly got to his feet. Vonna quickly moved out of his way and Franz staggered toward the stove, reaching a hand out to feel his way. He placed his hand on the still-hot burner and screamed in agony.

         “Holy Mother! Vonna, where the fuck are you? Get me to the sink! I need cold water. I need ice.”

         “Sink’s where it’s always been, sweetie," Vonna replied, turning on the water at the sink.

         He could follow her voice and went to the sink. Vonna got ice out of the fridge.

         “I can’t see the faucet,” he whined. “Vonna, everything is going grey. What’s happening?”

         “I don’t know, Franz. Really, maybe you ought to cut back on your drinking.”

         “I don’t need some smart-ass bitch to tell me how to live my life,” he griped.

         She kindly grasped his burnt hand and plunged it into the ice-cold water in the sink. Quickly she moved away, just as his good hand shot out to punch her.

         “Where the fuck are you? You witch!" But his voice had lost its bitterness. Now, she could hear his insults laced with fear and bewilderment.

         “Vonna, everything is going black. I can’t see,” he whined.

         “You want me to call an ambulance?”

         “Yes.”

         “Good. I’ll call them right away. Maybe they’d like to examine the bruises on my back, too.”

         “No, don’t call them!” he said, panicked.

         “But, Franz, you say you can’t see.”

         He collapsed on the kitchen floor, holding his hands over his useless eyes.

         “You did this to me didn’t you?”

         “What have I ever done to you Franz?" She turned to him, feeling certain strength coursing through her veins. “All I’ve ever done is cook your meals, keep our house clean. Oops I mean YOUR house clean, done your laundry, weeded your gardens, buy your mother birthday presents, because you can’t figure out how to do that on your own, and taken your beatings like a man. Something you aren’t, by the way.”

         His sightless eyes stared at her, but the rage in his face was unmistakable. “I’ll hunt you down and skewer you like the pig you are!” he spat.

         “You and what seeing-eye dog?” Vonna smirked.

* * *
         Vonna called an ambulance anyway. When the paramedics arrived, she described as best she could what was happening, but she really didn’t know herself. And yet she did.

         ”Could be onset of diabetes,” one of the paramedics said, “but we won’t know for sure until we get him in for tests. Is that alcohol I smell on his breath?”

         “Yes,” Vonna answered. “He does drink a lot.”

         “Well, that shouldn’t have anything to do with his eyesight, but you never know,” said the paramedic.

         “You never know,” Vonna said.

         Vonna rode with the ambulance merely as a matter of pretense. She called Bettina from the hospital.

         “Franz can’t see, Bettina,” Vonna told her friend.

         “Are you shittin’ me?” Bettina said.

         “No, I’m not,” she answered. “He tried to hit me a bunch of times, but he kept missing. He seriously cannot see.”

         “That old Maggie is really something,” Bettina said.

         “You think that’s what it is?”

         “Yep, I do. I don’t think Franz is going to be beating up anyone for quite awhile.”

         And he didn’t. Franz could never see well enough to aim his blows at anyone. He couldn’t even kick a stray dog. With the knowledge that he could never come after her, Vonna left him. Filed for divorce and left him.

* * *
         One day she went to visit old Maggie. She’d brought a twenty-pound bag of cat food as a gift. The house was the same; cheery and cat-filled. Maggie sat in the same rocking chair this time stroking a rusty-coated cat.

         “I’ve come to thank you, Maggie,” Vonna said, ”for all you’ve done for me.”

         “Old Maggie is always here to help the helpless, child,” said Maggie.

         “I’d like to repay the favor, if there’s any way I can,” stated Vonna.

         “There’s really only one thing you can do, Vonna the Brave,” said Maggie.

         “You called me Vonna the Timid, before.”

         “I surely did, but you’re not timid anymore and there is one thing you can do.”

         “What is it?” Vonna leaned forward.

         “You ever come across a girl like you; afraid, faithless, all the courage yanked out of her by a nasty person – you ever come across any of these helpless souls, you send them to Old Maggie. That’s all I ask.”

And Vonna did as she was asked.

* * *