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Date: Mon, 3 Sep 2001 00:04:04 -0400

From: Solon Plorry <georgearly@ca.inter.net>

Subject: Stoned Sharon

My name is Solon Plorry. I have been published a few times. As a kid i

lived as as tv for awhile; today i wish i never stopped! I like stories

with gritty realism, believable in detail, and flowing from the minds eye

=========================

Stoned Sharon

The man shouted at the attacker! He had beaten me so bloody and laid one

last hard kick at my head before he went away to join his girlfriend, his

soft shoes making a welcome squishy noise as he faded out. I lay in the

fetal position, almost afraid to breathe. I had been beaten to within an

inch of my life, I think, and all I could do was moan. My chest felt

caved in, and pain flooded my senses. I wanted to die!

A calloused hand was on my shoulder, but I just lay there, ignoring

everything. Waves of pure pain went through me, causing weak groans that

elicited a pat from the unseen hand. It was late at night, and even if my

eyes hadn't been squeezed shut, to block out further evidence of the

horror, I probably would not have been able to see anything. I had been

kicked dozens of times, and my mouth was full of blood and smashed teeth.

I felt so stiff in places I doubted that I would ever stand up again,

much less walk, much less have sex, my basic instinct. I have been told

by numerous observers that I resemble Sharon Stone, though smaller and a

little darker haired. Sharon is my favorite actress, whose academy award

winning performance in 'Basic Instinct' is my all time favorite show.

Like Sharon, I work out, and am proud of my biceps. I can bench press a

hundred easily, without breaking wind. Now I was beaten to within an inch

of my life! I couldn't believe it!

I wanted nothing but to be left alone to die in peace, my body

decomposing until only a grinning skeleton was left in the alley! But

someone would not leave me alone. I felt hands lifting my legs, and

someone was saying "Broken?" or "token" I wasn't sure. I opened my eyes,

and reentered the world of the living. My body was a awful mess! I almost

certainly needed hospital attention, and the person who was near me was

mumbling something. I could barely hear, my head felt broken open and the

sound of wind rushing through my brains was too loud. I felt myself being

lifted. The stranger was rolling me on my back, and was trying to make

sure I was breathing okay. My nose was so smashed, I could only breathe

through my mouth, and that caused me to make a wheezy

noise....wheee...wheee....wheee in a gasping tone. When the stranger

turned me on my back, I found that I could breath through my nose! I got

a look at the man helping me, but all I saw was a blur.

Dimly I recall activity that seemed both focused on me and totally

oblivious to me at the same time. I heard murmurs, talking, and felt

myself being moved. I was in an ambulance, and I remember looking at a

determined looking man in a paramedics jacket who squatted beside me and

looked at something with his jaw clenched. The sight made me feel safe,

and I passed in and out of awareness. I remember being on a gurney,

rolling down a long hall, and fluorescent lights sliding by above me like

boxcars at a railroad crossing. I slept and awoke to a dead silence that

terrified me, then slept again. I had no idea of space or time; only that

the pain had gone away, and I was tired beyond tired! I remember a

gurgling sound that went on and on, at one point annoying me cause I had

no idea what it was. Gurgle gurgle gurgle! I slept some more.

The first real series of memories that were connected together began with

an awareness of being in a clean white crisp bed, one of those adjustable

kind that hospitals use. My head was heavily bandaged, and I still felt

stiff, but lots of my stiffness I believe was due to laying in the bed.

An orderly came along, and was going to wash my face, I think, when he

noticed I was awake. "Morning Sunshine" he said, pushing my head so my

face was looking up. His name was Gaston, which he leaned over and

mentioned to me. He was fussing around for awhile before he just seemed

to disappear, and an older woman, one of those angels of mercy type, was

there checking me. I felt tired of laying in bed, and suddenly I was wide

awake, as awake as I have ever been! There was a bustle of activity;

again strangely oblivious to me, but that every few seconds it clearly

involved me. My doctor was reviewing my case.

A couple nurses also were present. There was an involved conversation

between doc and the older nurse, and at one point Gaston was also there.

I now felt wide awake, but things were occurring so fast that I was

getting confused. Clipboards were being checked, a loud laugh shared by

everybody there, then suddenly doc was standing right over me, looking at

my face. He told me I was a very lucky young...person, with just a hint

of hesitation letting me know the doctor had seen what I was wearing

under my clothes. In the antiseptic helpful no nonsense atmosphere of the

hospital, I felt oddly shamed by having these clean, above the law people

knowing my....peculiarity. The doctor told me I was lucky that I was not

hurt much worse; the interference of the stranger may very well have

saved me from being crippled or even deceased! The doctor told me I had

suffered a slight concussion, and was battered as badly as a footballer,

but there were no broken bones. Some broken teeth had been removed, so I

would need dental work if I wanted my 'looks' restored. For all his easy

familiarity with the straight side, he seemed genuinely considerate of

someone who lived on the other! I hadn't been in hospital since

childhood, so I was truly impressed by how well I was taken care of.

I was dying for a cigarette. It was the seemingly endless hours spent

lying in the ward, waiting for my flesh to heal. Without any warning, a

man suddenly was beside me. He was about my age, maybe a bit taller,

dressed in a sportscoat with elbow patches that gave me the idea he was a

history professor. He seemed shy when he saw I was awake. He was carrying

something, in a plastic bag. He approached, and intro's himself. It turns

out he was the guy that stopped me from getting beat to death that night!

Naturally, I was thankful, and profusely I thanked him, wishing I had

some cash or something to reward him. He told me while he went to call an

ambulance at a nearby twenty four seven, someone stole my wallet! He

acted angry at himself for not taking my wallet, which contained all my

identification, to protect me! I have no credit cards. In fact, I am very

poor! My family is white trash, with little concern for one another! And

certainly none for me! I wished I could have a smoke!

The strangers name was Isaacs. He told me his name in a mumble, as if it

wasn't important. For a guy who had saved me from certain death, he came

on in a hesitant manner! I still felt bruised and hard done by from the

beating, so being deferred to was very encouraging. I realized that with

my money gone, and lacking even basic identification, I was in for some

rough nights once I was out of hospital. Isaacs stayed with me for the

entire visiting time. Since I couldn't get out to have a cigarette, he

gave me a lozenge that would dull the craving, he said. He was right! I

still wanted a smoke, but it was a desirous want, not a desperate want!

Before he left, he asked if he could visit again! I was totally alone in

the city, and even though it was hard at times to make conversation with

someone I didn't know, and who was overly considerate of me, he did help

me pass the time and he certainly encouraged me! I needed that! I told

him I'd be pleased....

Sure enough, next day, Isaacs was there, with a small gift. Cigarettes,

and a small bottle of brandy, to 'freshen my gullet' he said. He went and

got a wheelchair, and wheeled me outside on the patio for the cigarette.

That butt was delicious, as only a pack a day girl like Sharon Stone

could appreciate! Isaacs pulled out a small plastic water cup, the type

that are all over in hospitals, and extremely handy when sipping brandy.

The brandy was tart and very refreshing, with the cigarette. I couldn't

have been happier!

Isaacs was very strange. I wandered what on earth he saw in me, as part

of my face was still bandaged, and the rest was sore and swollen. I

wasn't nothing to look at, and I had nothing in the way of material

things to entice someone's interest in me. But he acted genuinely

concerned about my well being! Why? I couldn't understand why he put

himself out so much. I could understand it if he felt I was his because

of his good deed, but Isaacs constantly went further than necessary,

trying to help me and giving me ideas as to what I should do to help

myself. Eventually, half way through the second vist, I asked him why he

concerned himself with me. I realized later I should have put a lot more

thought into the question, as he resorted to stock replies- I was hurt

and need help, I was alone and needed a visitor, I was robbed and could

use assistance etcetera. It sounded very nice, and it was impossible to

refute it, but the fact was, it never answered my question!

A couple more days and the hospital told me I would be discharged. I had

no place to go, as I was between apartments when the incident happened,

so Isaac again was a godsend. He told me he would get a place for me, so

I could finish recouping my health, and apply for assistance. The

government no longer wanted to help people, but people who were assaulted

and put in hospital, then discharged, would get government help without

trouble, because it would look horrible for someone like me to end up

homeless, or living in a hostel! All this eased my mind, because I have

never been good at roughing it!

So a couple days later, the doctor told me I was discharged. Isaacs was

there to help me do the physical move. Gaston even referred to Isaacs

as my 'friend.' a couple times. I really knew nothing about him, and

figured that now that I was out and in a private place that he had access

to, the other shoe would drop. But that's not what happened. The place he

helped me move to was a bachelor apartment, as nice as anything I had

ever lived in on my own. Very clean, quiet and private. Not only that,

the rent was easily within range of my government assistance cheque.

Indeed, this upscale kind of place actually cost less then dumpy places

over by the docks I often got stuck in! Isaacs explained he knew the

owner of the building, and the rent was negotiable. It struck me that

Isaacs was a good person to have as a friend. I expected his helpfulness

to change into social visits, just chumming, but that never happened.

Once I was settled in, I very rarely saw him and then only when I called!

The injuries I suffered healed up nicely. There was one area Isaacs

insisted he be allowed to organize the fixing up of. That was the dental

work I needed, because of my shattered mouth. My government insurance

never covered dental work, false teeth and so on. Isaacs arranged for me

to see a dentist, who was part of a small group that did work for people

who lacked funds, especially crime victims. I also got several pieces of

identification restored to me, though Isaacs never told me he was

initiating action in that department. Better then that, I also received a

victim's indemnity cheque, for more money then I'd seen in years! Someone

had filled in the forms and sent them in, but it wasn't me, and Isaacs

seemed anxious to avoid talking about it! He was a real 'good

Samaritan,' in the classic sense! The better things got for me, the less

I saw him, and I realized he was trying to avoid seeing me! I was in

emotional turmoil.

Several weeks went by. My life got back on track. Indeed, things were

near perfect, and I finally had plenty of money! My good looks were

restored, and I wore my hair to my shoulders, in Sharon's latest style.

With my Chiappelle loafers, and wearing a fitted Grenville dress, under a

lovely capelet for my shoulders, I dropped into a small restaurant near

my apartment one evening. Isaacs was there, with a young friend! If he

hadn't seen me, I would have slipped away, but he saw me before I had a

chance! He smiled and waved me over, asking if he could buy the pretty

lady (me) a brandy! I was happy my cd'ing never threw him, in fact I was

very happy! He seemed slimmer then earlier, darker, like he'd been away.

I found out he was a merchant seaman, which accounted for his tan. He

said he just finished a contract in the south china sea, and was pleased

to see me. The young man he was with was just a friend, it was said, and

shortly after my arrival, the youth claimed an appointment and was

suddenly gone. I was very happy, as I thought a lot about Isaacs, and how

much I missed being around him!

For the first time since we'd met, our relationship was unencumbered by

externals, debts real or imagined. Isaacs was a dashing man, slender and

very tough, with fluid motions and the aura of someone whose way people

got out of! I was genuinely interested in him, and he seemed taken by me.

He even mentioned my looking alot like Sharon, which popped a couple

stitches (in my hosiery!) and told me indeed Stone could take a few

pointers from me! It was a nice thing to say, and I felt wonderful!

After drinks, Isaacs asked me to walk with him. We left the restaurant

and ambled towards the marina, enjoying each others company. While

smiling at one of Isaacs jokes, I saw two people whom I thought I

recognized. The guy who assaulted me, and that woman! I was dumbstruck,

staring at the duo, who were across the street and unaware of being

watched. I told Isaacs, and he went very quiet. The two moved off,

towards the park, and Isaacs grabbed my hand, pulling me as he followed

them. Before they got to the park, they turned off, into a sidestreet ,

and Isaacs let go, sprinting across the road and after them. I raced to

catch up, not sure what was happening, but not wanting Isaacs to get

involved in any violence; there were two of them after all! Somewhere

ahead of me, I heard shouts.

I turned the corner and saw the thugs. They were standing by a car, and

the smaller one had something in her hand. I remembered that me and some

guy I met had been doing exactly the same thing, breaking into cars the

night I was beaten and almost died! Before I could do anything, Isaacs

was all over them. The bigger guy, who beat me to pulp, fled shrieking

"Okay! Okay! Okay' down the street, but the other one, only got about

twenty feet before Isaacs got her, kicking her feet clean into the air!

Isaacs was like a cheeta, disappearing and suddenly appearing right

behind the guy I'm certain was the one responsible for my injuries! The

guy had stopped and tried to hide when Isaacs suddenly was on him. He

jumped up and tried to run, but Isaacs dropped him, kicking him so hard I

could hear the thudding flesh! I ran towards the fight, but Isaacs had

already left, chasing the frantic girl! I couldn't believe Isaacs, taking

revenge on my enemies. How pammy! I suddenly came upon the man I

believed tried to kill me! He looked a lot like the one, I was ready to

hit him myself, but I looked closer. No, no; he wasn't the guy, yes, no,

yea ...no I didn't think he was, being far too old, and obviously dirt

poor! I was shocked, and backed away as the poor guy hobbled off,

something inside him appeared badly broken! I turned and ran to get

Isaacs! My god I was thinking; it's not the right people!

I heard the beating before I saw it. Isaacs was standing over the girl,

who was curled up begging him to stop while he kicked her, shutting her

up! I gasped, uncertain what to do, then yelled 'Isaacs stop' when

someone bellowed 'hey!' very loudly. Isaacs kicked her one last time

before coming towards me. The sound of a man running towards us caused

Isaacs to sprint to me the last few feet, grabbing my hand and laughing

"C'mon hon!" I had no choice but to run away with him!

epilogue

The girl lying on the ground behind them was a bloody mess. Finstead

approached her, compassion filling his heart. He knelt beside the hurt

creature, who was trembling violently in pain and fear. A screwdriver lay

by her hand, and as she pleaded 'please don't!' he pocketed the burglar

tool...the poor dear didn't need any unnecessary complications at

present! As Finstead checked her, to see how gravely hurt she was, he

realized she was a transgender: but that was okay. He pocketed her

billfold, which had fallen out of her clothes. As she moaned

pathetically, his heart went out to her, smashed up and all. He was so

alone. He would care for her, until she was okay...and god help the

bastards who did this if he ever gets his hands on them!