Raoul's First Murders

A "trigger warning" is in order, in case the title isn't clear: in this story people are intentionally killed without much euphemism. But again, it's not the worst thing that's ever appeared in print, and the murders are not during sex.

———————

Thursday, January 29, 1987.

Chinese New Year.

Especially since the death of their "American dad" (also their ony dad), for Raoul's family the first of January has been about celebrating the birthdays of Raoul and his twin sisters Sam (Samantha) and Reza (Theresa). Chinese New Year has been the real new year.

But this New Year's holiday is going to be a very special one for Raoul.

The preparations are like a logic puzzle. Lots of driving to get everything to the right place.

Very early in the morning he attaches his motorcycle to his Jeep and tows it to a campground he knows in the Sequoia National Forest near Kings Canyon. Then he rides his bike back to the Ihaul, and, towing the bike, goes to a Hiwes to buy a set of big closets, a hand truck, duct tape, nylon rope, and a package of those big Hunky garbage bags. He unwraps everything in the back of the Ihaul, cuts the nylon rope into convenient lengths, puts the small items back into the bag and stashes them under the driver seat.

Finally, he leaves the Ihaul at a parking lot a couple blocks from the Kappy house, and rides his bike home to watch and wait, almost hoping that Todd, Sean, and J. B. take their little stroll past his house. He'd like them to see him once more, to see what kind of a man they've crossed, before he murders them in their sleep.

That would be fun, but he has to be smart. He knows everything is easier for him if they don't know he's coming.

He's invited Jeremy over after school. There's a basketball game that night, but Raoul says he still doesn't feel well enough to attend. Doesn't want to spread the flu or anything, he says.

Still, he wants to see Jeremy before the game.

So in the afternoon they sit in lawn chairs in front of his house, beers in hand. A dozen women and girls wait on them until Raoul orders them all inside.

Reza, mortified, gives Raoul the most hateful look she can, which he of course ignores.

Then he gets straight to the point. This might be his last conversation as a free man, or even his last conversation. He doesn't have much time and it has to be good.

He's been thinking about it for a long time, anyway. It's not like he didn't know that his sisters would fall in love with someone someday.

"I've always liked you," he tells Jeremy, looking too directly at him.

Jeremy, of course, feels very uncomfortable. Raoul is looking at him strangely, saying strange things in a strange tone of voice.

"Me?"

"You're a good guy. I see how you treat people, and I like it. You could be a jerk. You're the golden boy. Scholar, athlete. Tall, handsome guy."

Jeremy chuckles.

"Maybe before you came here," he says, "but ever since you got here, I've been the silver boy at best."

"Silver boy," Raoul laughs, waiving away Jeremy's humility. "We have a lot in common, and I like to think that together we've changed the culture at Essex."

"The culture?"

"We're the top of the school. Quarterback, receiver, two of the best players on the basketball team. Top marks. Tall. Popular with the Ridgway girls...."

"Shoot, that's all you," Jeremy protests.

"No, not at all. You're just a better guy than I am, and that's another thing I like about you. But you and I together, we've made Essex safe for everyone."

"Safe?"

"Yes. We don't let people pick on each other, right? It's like Hobbes. We're the leviathan. It's the Pax Raoulicana and the Pax Jeremia. You follow me?"

"Sort of, I guess."

"I've always thought you were doing it on purpose. You take the little guy's side, every time."

"Yeah. I used to be a little guy."

"Me too."

"Really?"

"Oh, yeah. Horrible. Hated it."

"Me too."

"So we have a lot in common, like I said."

"I guess so," Jeremy acknowledges, more puzzled than ever. Raoul can almost see a thought bubble above his head: What the hell is this about?

"That's what I like about you. You're a big guy, one of the biggest, one of the most popular, most influential, and you use it to make the littlest people, the least popular ones — you use it to make them feel safe and included."

"Yeah," Jeremy agrees, not at all sure that he's been doing that. And Raoul knows that he himself has been the leader, but Jeremy has been there with him.

"That's character. That's

good

character. And I've always considered you an ally. Not only a friend, an ally. You, and the Kens" — because there are two boys in their circle named Ken — "and George. The five of us at the center. We've changed Essex. Made it much better for everyone."

"I guess so."

"And now," Raoul sighs after taking a big drink of beer, "Reza's got a crush on you."

He looks straight ahead, sparing Jeremy the humiliation of being seen blushing.

"A huge crush," Raoul goes on, "And I can tell you like her too."

Now he looks at Jeremy, making his words authentic. "And I'm glad."

Jeremy risks a glance at Raoul to confirm that he's serious.

"You're a good goddamned guy, like I said. And I trust you to treat her well."

"We're kind of getting ahead of ourselves here, we're not even dating...."

"I can see where things are headed. And I'm sure this is unnecessary, but I want to tell you just so you can tell people I told you:

"First, if I hear that you've ever made my sister feel unwanted, I will take her from you and you'll never see her again. Got that?"

"Okay."

"Second, if I hear that you've disrespected her, I will beat you. And if you've disrespected her badly enough, I will beat you so badly that you will regret it more than you've ever regretted anything. Got it?"

"Um...."

"Seriously, Jeremy?"

"Okay, I got it."

"Good. And third, if I ever hear that you've hurt her, I will

kill

you."

He lets that hang in the air a while.

"Did you hear me?"

"Yes."

"Good. And I mean every goddamn motherfucking word of it. But like I said, I know it's unnecessary. Because you're a good guy. You'll be a good man for her. You'll take care of her, treat her right, and make her happy because that's the kind of guy you are. I know I didn't have to threaten you, like I said, I just did it so that you can tell other people about it. Instead, I want to put it to you another way. Not in a bad way, like a threat, but in a good way, like a promise."

Raoul goes on with a monologue he's been preparing — something he needs to say, but maybe even more importantly something to take his mind off of "other things."

Make her feel safe, respected, and beautiful.

You're a man, and that's what a man does for a woman. The only thing your strength is for is to protect, to make her feel safe, and of course you won't ever use it to make her feel unsafe. The world itself is dangerous, and you have to be her safety. When something frightening happens, she should instinctively flinch

towards

you. She should feel in her bones that you are her protector, her refuge from the danger of the world.

That's what a man is.

You make her feel safe.

You got that, Jeremy? (He did.)

Good. Second, respected.

You know women. Sturm und drang. Drama all the time. Especially for a few special days each month. But the point of all our masculine emotional stability is to create a safe place for women emotionally, just like physically.

So do that for her. Support her when she suffers. Take her side when she feels criticized. Celebrate her victories with her. Validate all her feelings, listen to as much of her yapping as you can stand, and take her opinions seriously. She's a girl, but she's a smart girl, and a wise man will respect the things she says.

So, safe and respected.

Got it? Safe and respected. It takes time. You have to build it up over time. Prove to her that she's safe and respected.

And then, finally, desired.

Make her feel beautiful. Make her feel cherished. Make her feel

desired

.

I know my sisters are beautiful, and I know guys desire them. If they're good guys, who will make them feel safe and respected, it's not a bad thing.

It's a great thing, actually.

Once she feels safe and respected, which, again, takes time, you have to prove that to her, but once she feels that for sure, your desire is a

gift

to her. Something that will surprise and delight her. Something I wouldn't want her to be without.

Something you wouldn't want to be without, either. Because when you make her feel safe and respected and desired, she will do everything she can to please you. She will forgive all your flaws and weaknesses. She will let you tell her things that you could never tell anyone else. She will support you when you struggle, and stand by you when you fail, and she'll always be there to tend your wounds and appreciate what you do for her. She will do anything you want, and everything she can, to make your life pleasant and to delight your body.

And you will do everything you can for her. It's a beautiful thing when two good people love each other and take care of each other. That's the best thing. I couldn't want anything better for her.

Or for you.

You're a good guy, and she's a great girl, so if you make her feel safe and respected and desired, she'll do all that.

And she's very beautiful, so you'll like it.

"The three key words," Raoul concludes, "Safe, respected, desired. You do that, she'll give you everything she can and I'll be on your side forever. Safe. Respected. Desired."

He finishes his third beer of the afternoon.

"Promise me one more thing, if you don't mind."

"Okay," Jeremy quickly agrees.

"If I'm not around to give this speech when Sam and the others find decent men, you give it to them for me."

"I mean, okay."

"Good." He tosses the Corvette keys to Jeremy. "Take her out tonight after the game. Have a good time. Get her back by midnight, though, so things look proper.

I

like you but the aunts and grandmas in there have their own ideas. Got it?"

"Really?"

Raoul stands up. "Shake my hand, Jeremy. Good."

Jeremy is almost as tall as Raoul. They stand there, two young men, not yet accustomed to the strength their bodies have recently grown into.

"What are the words?" Raoul demands, looking into Jeremy's eyes.

"Safe. Respected. Beautiful."

"Close enough, silver boy," Raoul winks. "I've got things to do."

He releases Jeremy's hand and walks over to his bike. "You kids behave yourselves, you hear?" He points at Jeremy with playfully exaggerated menace. "And don't you dare do anything I would do!"

———————

He rides to Kappy — going past the Ihaul just to be sure everything is still fine, and of course it is — parking right in front of their house and under a streetlight where his bike can be clearly seen all night.

This, he hopes, will be an alibi — in case he needs one.

As usual, the Kappy girls run down the lawn to greet him.

"Raoul!"

"Ladies!" he teases, giving them a collective hug. Though some of them shyly avoid eye contact — they all know what he's promised to do for them tonight — they squeal happily, pressing their breasts into his hips, waist, and stomach. The hairspray makes his eyes water.

He's early for the party, but the feast starts as soon as he arrives. All kinds of Asian food, prepared with love and pride. Feeling as if he hasn't eaten in a week, he listens to them as he chews.

The big gossip is that Joy, who's become a serious Christian over the past few weeks, has quit the sorority in disgust after their game of Raoul Roulette, and she's been spreading terrible rumors all over campus. They've been retaliating with rumors of their own. Ferocious denunciations, rebuttals, pleas for Raoul's sympathy, which he doles out with generous nods and shakings of the head.

Maricel makes sure he knows that Joy's departure means she has a single. Just in case he has any use for that information.

But the more fun news is that one of the girls — no one knows who, or will admit it if she does — has brought a

Pentgirl

magazine into the Kappy house. Rob Hiwe is on the cover, but no one apparently knows who is on the inside.

"You should look at the guys they have in there," they suggest. "Very handsome, but nothing like you."

"Some of them... are... maybe... even longer than you," Amy Wu giggles, "but none of them are as big around!"

"I thought you'd just read it for the articles," he winks, lifting a dumpling to his lips. "I know that when I get a

Pentboy

, I only read the articles."

The girls express objection and dismay that he would dare to look at a

Pentboy

, but he just smiles and chews.

"The articles really aren't bad," Jenny admits, giggling. "It's kind of feminist, actually."

After dinner, they go back downstairs to the TV room, where they played "Raoul Roulette" last time he visited. There's plenty of punch again, and he divides them into four teams for drinking contests. When the girls have begun to get really drunk, they object that he isn't drinking, but he declines, citing his recent struggles with the flu.

"Yvonne says you don't really have the flu. You've just been acting funny," Maricel accuses.

"No, I've had a bad fever until last night. Felt weird all over my body. Sore and stiff."

"She says you've been visiting the girls out in Little Saigon a lot," Trang complains.

He's been wondering when they'd bring that up.

"Yup. With any luck, I'll be buying those ladies cradles soon."

They debate the reasonableness of the situation, gingerly concluding that he'll be a good dad if he can be around, that maybe he should consider staying in town and going to USCLA instead of going all the way to Hedera.

"They'll be fine," he assures them. "They just need my money, and with any luck it looks like I'll have enough of it for everyone. And speaking of having enough for everyone," he winks mischievously, "I've put some thought into how to do this."

Suddenly the girls are very quiet, and the room seems lit by blushing faces — even those not already bright pink from the alcohol.

Their behavior in the next few minutes may seem ridiculous to you, especially since they're in college and Raoul is still only a senior in high school.

But young Raoul is not a normal "senior in high school." To speak common American for a moment, he is six feet seven inches, 250 pounds of drop-dead gorgeous. He's unfalteringly confident, effortlessly dominant, disarmingly cheeky, and heart-breakingly cute. His voice is deeper than God's, and in English he speaks with a charming accent he acquired at Thorney College in Hampshire.

He's been in movies (playing Boss Badoss, the leader of an evil kung fu motorcycle gang, in Jean-Claude Segal's

Fist Punch Two

and

Three

), television shows (including

Shorewatch

), and advertisements — he's Surf the Shark in the Jack 'n Out commercials (in which his face cannot be seen but most of his body certainly can), and as the body of Barry Schwartz's cologne Obsessed for Men, he might even be the highest-paid male model in the world.

To be sure, being the highest-paid male model in the world would be the equivalent of winning the NIT and the financial equivalent of a pretty good job, but the point of all this is: women swoon. Morals disintegrate at the sight of him, worries about their reputation vanish. Some ladies literally forget (albeit temporarily) that they have a boyfriend or a husband. When Raoul has sex with a woman, she has an orgasm. Every. Single. Time. He's that goddamn hot. And women begin building to it the first moment their poor eyes fall on him.

In fact, less than three weeks ago he spent an evening naked with Trang and she had four life-changing orgasms. She has tried to express to a few of her sorority sisters what the experience was like, and they have whispered her reports to each other. While the Kappy girls are generally somewhat prettier than average, and we outside observers can foresee that they'll all find husbands who will (at least initially) feel lucky to have them, none of them would ordinarily have a chance with a guy like Raoul, and they know that if they get a chance, they have to take it.

So, lubricated with stronger-than-usual Kappy punch, their jealousy and longing for him is at a fever pitch.

"First of all, your 'no-boys-upstairs' rule is out for the night. Tonight I'm going anywhere I want. Agreed?"

They agree, nodding and looking around to be sure everyone else is nodding too. (That rule hasn't actually been strictly enforced in quite a few years anyway.)

"Second, Yvonne has made a map of the sorority for me." He pulls a paper out of his back pocket and unfolds it. "Is this right? Is this really where you all live?"

It takes only a few seconds to discover that Yvonne's map is flawed, but making a better one takes the next twenty minutes.

Dear god, Raoul thinks. I sure hope that murdering three men in their home is easier than getting a dozen drunk sorority girls to make an accurate map. Meanwhile, he makes them drink more to punish them for inaccuracies.

Eventually, though, he is in possession of an approximately accurate map of the sorority, and the girls can barely walk.

"Now you all need to go to your rooms and I'm going to visit you in a random order."

"A random order? Why in a random order?" Trang asks, clearly disappointed. Apparently she thought, or at least hoped, that since she's already had sex with Raoul, she would be at the front of the line.

"In order not to hurt anyone's feelings. If I come to your room last, it's not because I like you the least, it's because that's just how the cards fall."

"How are you going to choose?"

He takes a dozen notecards out of his back pocket. "I'll write your names on these cards, and I'll shuffle them and then pull one out at random."

"That's not fair. I think you should have to choose," Trang looks at him mischievously, clearly trying to position herself among the first.

"No," Maricel says. "I think he's right."

She probably believes he wouldn't be visiting her otherwise.

"Whether I'm right or not, that's how I'm doing it because I don't want to hurt anyone's feelings. I'd love to visit all of you tonight, but I won't have time, so it needs to be this way."

"If you visit us, I mean, like, what does that mean?"

"I'll ask your roommate to go to the living room, or she can go to someone else's room or whatever, and when she's gone we'll do whatever we want to do."

"Whatever we want to do?"

"You don't have to decide that until I visit you."

"You're like our gigolo tonight," Maricel giggles.

"And you don't even have to pay me," he winks. "But if you just want to talk, or if you want to cuddle up, or anything else you want, that's up to you when we're together. No one will know."

"Are you going to tell anyone what we do when we're alone?"

"I never do. I'm not even going to tell anyone which of you I visit tonight. You can tell anyone you want, but I never do, and I never confirm or deny anything either."

"What if we don't even want to be alone with you?" Trang asks, a little bitter.

"Well," he chuckles, "I won't tell anyone that either."

———————

As the girls go to bed, he gives each of them a goodnight kiss. Then he walks the empty halls of the Kappy house like a beast patrolling its territory. In some rooms, he hears the music of KISS 100 playing, the Jangles telling him to walk like an Assyrian, John Bovi chiding a woman for giving love a bad reputation.

He calls his house to confirm that besides all the girls in his family, there's a party with a few dozen extra people, including Jeremy and his friends, enough to discourage the three brothers from trying anything, just in case they'd planned to make tonight their night. Relieved that it seems to be so, the next thing on his to-do list is to create some scandals here at Kappy.