SPIKED

By Historian

    Except for their shirts, the two sisters would have been mirror images of each other. Kelly and Kristy Flannigan both had sparkling blue eyes and auburn hair that seemed more like red in the sun as they walked along Chicago's North Avenue Beach. Kelly's hair was parted on the left and Kristy's right. Both wore shorts and White Sox jerseys. Kelly's bore 23, not because of Jermaine Dye, but because she hadn't gotten over her schoolgirl crush on Robin Ventura. Kritsie wore 13 because Ozzie Guillen had been her all-time favorite player on the Sox and the fact he was now their manager made it all for the better. They approached the grandstand that had been erected in the area cordoned off for the beach volleyball tournament.

   On the court, a practice session was underway. Even though it was not a competition, a sizable crowd had gathered to watch. A large proportion was male, no doubt enjoying the chance to mix their love of sports with, well, lust.  Most of the female spectators were young and many had t-shirts proclaiming their memberships of local high school or college teams. TV camera crews were also out in full force. Comcast Sports Net and the local Fox affiliate were watching the action out on the court, while WGN and the major network affiliates had their cameras focused on a small knot of protesters, perhaps no more than six, near the court.
   "What's with that?" Kelly asked.
   "I have no idea," Kristy said.
   A girl clad in one of the high school t-shirts came from the opposite direction. "They're complaining about the fact the women don't wear much," she said.
   The twins veered toward the court and soon found themselves near the court. When the session was over and it was time for autographs, one of the players made right for the twins. "Forgive me, but these are two friends of mine," she said.
   Sue Donnely was one of the stars on the tour and an old friend of the twins. She began signing for the fans and was enjoying herself when a camera crew approached. "Were you aware of the protesters?" the reporter asked.
   "I've seen them in other cities," Sue said.
   "What do you think of them?"
   "There are bigger problems in this world than what I wear on the beach. "There are some places where every woman on this beach would be arrested, your self included."
   The reporter stopped short. At least that would be edited out before broadcast. "Has this been a good thing for you?" she asked.
   "There are more volleyball players coming out of colleges than there are high school coaching positions available," Sue said. "Besides, where else can somebody have fun and get paid to do it?"
   The reporter went elsewhere, and Sue went back to the autographs. Sue patiently signed every ball, book, magazine and sun vision offered to her, then went back to her "dressing room", an air conditioned motor home. Kelly and Kristy walked with Sue remembering the old times and catching up on what had happened since their last meeting.
   "So, do you think the Sox will pull it off this year?" Sue asked.
   "It looks like they have everything: pitching, defense, power and speed," Kelly said, but it seemed like Sue was only making conversation. Her eyes were scanning the beach.
   "They'll take the Central division, no problem," Kelly said.
   "Getting to the Series will be the tricky part," Kristy said. "The Angles always play them tough, especially in Anaheim. Oakland's making a move and they've been a real pain the last few years." After a brief pause: "Looking for somebody?"
  "Oh," Sue said. "It's just we get stalkers sometimes."
  "You're just being cautious?" Kelly said.
  "Yeah. For the most part they're harmless, but they can be annoying."
  "Do you have plans for tonight?"
   "No."
   "How about dinner tonight?"
   "Sure. Any place in mind?"
   "We were thinking the Chop House."
   "Unless all these Californians on the tour have turned you into a vegetarian," Kristy said.
   Sue laughed. "They haven't."   
   The twins and Sue went their separate ways. The sisters were halfway to their car when Kristy said; "Is it me or did we not get a time to meet Sue at the Chop House."
   "You're right," Kelly said. "I'll go back and check."
   Kelly half walked, half jogged back toward the RV. On arrival, she knocked on the vehicle's door. The lack of a response bothered her. Even if Sue was trying to rest, she shouldn't have fallen asleep this quickly. Kelly carefully opened the door, only to have a thick, hairy arm grab hers and yank her toward the vehicle. Kelly jumped on board, for not reason other to avoid hurting herself, though she barked a shin on the step.
   The inside of the motor home gave her no room to effectively struggle. The assailant clamped a hand over her mouth and pinned her to a wall. A glance showed Sue lying face down on the bed. She still wore her volleyball bikini. Her wrists and ankles were bound and a knotted cloth was visible at the base of her skull. "I can improvise," the man said. He pulled some sort of cloth from his pocket and stuffed it into Kelly's mouth. Next, he wrestled her to the floor and put her arms together.
   "I guess you'll have to make do with what rope you have now, Suzie Superstar," he said.
   Sue grunted furiously. She hated to be called "Suzie."
   Once her wrists were bound, Sue finally got a look at the assailant. Starting from the feet, she noted Birkenstock sandals, exposed legs, with scar tissue on the right knee, blue shorts that came almost to the knees, with ragged edges, faded black t-shirt, sunglasses, and a battered Chicago Cubs cap.  Nothing seemed to have been disturbed. Kelly remembered Sue's comment about stalkers and she began to think of him as such.
   The stalker went to a coat stand and removed the belt from Sue's bathrobe. Soon, the belt was around Kelly's wrists.
   "Now what do I do with you?" the stalker wondered aloud. "Suzie Superstar has become too good for a regular guy like me," he said. "I have her now and need to teach her a lesson. You, however present a bit of a problem."
   Okay, Kristy, Kelly thought, How long will it take you to figure out we're not in some idle conversation?    
                                              ---------------------
   It took roughly ten minutes for Kristy to start wondering how long it would take to walk to the RV, arrange the meeting time, and come back.
Surely not more than say twenty minutes. Not doubt Kelly and Sue were babbling about something or other. Kristy believed Kelly would never leave a place on her own accord simply because she would talk for a while and keep the conversation going on too long. After half an hour, Kristy headed for the RV.
   As she approached, Kristy began to sense there might be something wrong. Kelly and Sue weren't standing by the motor home and all the blinds were drawn. A figure emerged from the RV, but it clearly was not a woman. He was coming toward her, so Kristy ducked behind a tree. It didn't offer full concealment, but Kristy could sit down and make it appear as if she were resting under the shade of the tree.
    The stranger passed and Kristy went to her feet to confront him. "Excuse me," she said.
   The man turned and surprise over came caution. "You're tied up in the RV!" he exclaimed.
   Kristy lifted her right foot and swung around on her left, catching him in the gut. She put her hands together and brought them down on the back of his head. "That's my twin sister, bone brain!" She exclaimed then rushed for the RV.
    Panting and sweating on her arrival, she was able to free her sister before the stalker arrived. Between them, the twins were able to subdue him and use on him the same bindings he'd used on Kelly. When that was done, the sisters released Sue. Kristy undid the gag, while Kelly went to work on the ropes.
   "Who is this chump?" Kristy wondered.
   "Some stalker, I suppose," Kelly said.
   "Yeah," Sue confirmed. "His name is Peter Kravic. He says he was a pretty good football player in high school, but got his knee hurt in college."
   "He does have a scar," Kelly said.
    "He tried to date me, but he's not really my style. I guess when I rejected him, he couldn't handle it."
   "There's something else he won't be able to handle," Kristy said.
   "What's that?
   "Prison."
    "We'd better get going."
   "Right. Is eight a good time for you Sue?"
    "Sure," Sue replied. "The Chop House at eight. See you there."
THE END
  

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