The "Rape" of Hannah Skylo

This little lady got a free taxi to town .... the hard way!

.... by D. Grant DeMan

Rising from the table at the Brass Rail, Constable Greg Vinci drained his zombie and took one last listen to Merv Griffin at the Steinway crooning, "All, or nothing at all...." thrilling the babes into maybe looking Vinci's way. Not tonight though, he thought. Two shopworn Neon Nellies held up the bar, and besides, he was due on first watch at twelve. "See ya around Francis," Vinci waved to the young bartender. "There's a buck under the glass." Frankie smiled back a better luck next time farewell.

That afternoon Hannah Skylo's gynecologist, Dr. Fleming Scranton, had made things clear: "Hannah, I've put in a couple of stitches that'll hold for now. Use the syringe, and no conjugal relations for a week. No good prescribing you a no drinking, no carousing program. Frankly, for a fifty-year-old woman, you're a mess."

"Forty nine, and that's my business. Party time is my time. My time and Joel's if you gits my drift, you old morguey sonovabitch. Flem, I can recall the times you were not adverse to a few jumps on the operating table with me, and a couple of others I could mention if I weren't a lady of class." She laughed and so did Dr. Scranton; then she went home and drank six glasses of gin.

The call came in at two in the morning. "Vinci, you take this one," Mitch was laughing and so was Mould. "Lady name of Skylo called in from The Barn Honkeytonk on Route Four, claims she been assaulted and wants a pickup there. Wow Boy! Your first vice case." Greg continued to hear their guffaws as he jumped into his Cruiser. They know something he didn't, or what? A cold warning crawled up his shoulders.

The lady was disheveled - a slut Mitch would call her - but Vinci was to play this by the book, for he prized his respect for women. "Treat 'em like ladies, until proven different," he could hear his dad say.

"The sonuvagun got me unawares in the back seat on a lonesome road, officer. This truck driver was good enough to bring me here. You gonna take me home?" Vinci was forced to step back to avoid the spittle.

"Okay, Mrs. Skylo. We'll take you to the hospital, then you show me where it happened."

"You certain we gotta do this? Oh shoot. We need all that trouble?"

Dr. Joyce Plum, the St. Joe's attendant, was aghast at Vinci's request: "Oh my God Officer, she's filthy. Raped? You betcha! You're not seriously making us go through with this, are you?"

"Imperative to investigate all such cases, Ma'am. Best get on with the examination."

Thus the procedure was duly recorded, and soon Vinci and Skylo were back heading for the north Township roads. "Shoot, take me home, son. Where we goin' now?"

"We're about to check the scene. Please point out which spot, so's I'm able to examine it." Following a long search Hannah Skylo settled on a stretch of Seventh Concession Road five miles east of The Barn. Though all the roads they traveled had been free of traffic, Vinci noted, the complainant chose the very gravel shoulder upon which sat a steamy-windowed Rocket 98 Oldsmobile. "That's not the car, is it Hannah?"

"Nah! Are you kidding? In his dreams Joel will ever own a car like that. He's a jalopy man, if there ever was one."

Vinci was beginning to get the picture. She actually knew the perpetrator? Well, he'd better go explain to the couple in the Olds his reasons for being there.

He knocked on the window. "Greg Buddy, whatcha want? Do I gotta move just so's you can park with that delectable morsel you got there in your police car?" Oh God! It was Frankie from the Rail; celebrating Vinci's embarrassment.

"I'm investigating a rape case; the lady says this is where it happened, and..." It was no use. Frankie was having his jollies, as was the luscious naked woman sitting next him. They'll be hearing this tale all over the Township. He'll never ever live it down. There's certainly a penalty attached for doing the right thing, he concluded.

That afternoon Constable Vinci interviewed Joel May, who lived next door to Hannah Skylo. "I tells ya like it was, officer. We get's to lovin' in the back seat and she suddenly remembers what that doctor told her. Mind, I didn't know what's comin' off when she gives out a hoot: 'Git offa me, git offa me, I ain't allowed to do this!' and I was shaken when she ran into the cornfield. I called, but she don't answer, so's I came home and went to sleep. Tha's allit happened, and it's the truth so help me officer."

Hanna Skylo confirmed May's story, adding that, as she had no fare, a free ride home is all she wanted. "S'pect Sarg Mitch knew that alla time. We took a lengthy detour, didn't we sonny?" she added, with a cluck while Vinci boiled. He ought to lay a charge of mischief, he thought. Sure, and give the judge a good yuk too?

At the Arva store, Township folks still hoot at the story of Hannah Skylo's "rape" -- Rookie Constable Gregory Vinci's first Vice Investigation -- on that deserted Seventh Concession Road. And the biggest guffaw is sure to come from an old coot named Frankie who tended bar at the Brass Rail before the Conway Twitty years, though an ancient lady in the corner: Hannah Skylo, sipping her Nabob tea, cackles loudest, Dr. Scranton having bought the farm at least forty years ago.

Sometimes they even wonder whatever became of poor Constable Vinci.

---

If you haven't used the 'Vox Populi', get started! Send in your comments and critique on
Donald Grant Deman's work. Inditer.com is a community of like minded writers.
Each wants and deserves the help of the other. Do it! It won't cost a dime! You'll be glad you helped!

---

The Donald Grant DeMan Main Page - - - Email Donald Grant DeMan - - - Possibility Arts - Don & Diane's Website

Inditer dot Com Index - - - Inditer dot Com Main Page