Double Dippin' Read Free Page A

her spirits were lifted. How he’d acquired the portable house so quickly was anyone’s guess.
    As if beckoned, Marguerite removed her sons’ sucking lips from her breasts, pulled her top down, and rose from the bench and glided toward the box. She didn’t need an invitation to join the stranger and her children didn’t need to be told to stay put.
    Wiping their mouths, Shane and Tariq watched their mother slowly disappear as she crawled inside the box with the scary man. Cuddled together, and comforted by the sight of their mother’s black sneakers sticking out of the box, the boys drifted off to sleep.
    The twins were fast asleep by the time Marguerite’s sneakers began to writhe beneath the madman’s cloth-covered feet. There were the sounds of rustling and muted moaning as the two tormented souls engaged in a macabre horizontal dance inside the cardboard box.

    With the rising sun, the city came to life. One early riser, a woman out walking her dog at dawn, spotted the sleeping children. Assuming they’d beenabandoned, she called the authorities. The boys were roused by the crisp voice of a social worker. “Wake up, boys,” she said, her tone infused with cheer.
    Startled, Shane and Tariq rubbed their eyes. “My name is Mrs. Fluellen and this is Officer Falcone,” she said, smiling as she pointed to a police officer. “Oh, look at you two little angels; you’re such
pretty
boys,” she said, awed by the physical attractiveness of the twins. “Can you tell me your names? Don’t worry; we’re taking you to a very nice place,” the social worker assured the frightened children before they could respond.
    The twins looked at the woman suspiciously, and then jerked their heads in the direction of the cardboard box. “Mommeee,” Shane and Tariq wailed in unison.
    Marguerite scrambled out of the box. With her teeth bared and screaming like a banshee, she rushed toward her children. Her companion instantly popped out of the box behind her. Armed with a broken bottle, he advanced toward the child-snatchers. He made a hissing sound as he waved the bottle around like a swashbuckler wielding a sword.
    Officer Falcone drew his weapon and without the slightest hesitation, opened fire on the homeless man. The force of the gunfire lifted the man’s body. A split second later, the man came crashing to the ground. The glass bottle shattered against the concrete.
    The social worker gasped and clamped a shaky hand over her mouth to stifle a scream. She then collected herself and turned toward her two charges. She used her body to block their view—to protect them. But she was too late; they’d seen it all. Terrified, both boys cried out, “Mommee! Mommee!”
    Ms. Fluellen tried to pull Shane and Tariq out of the park to the waiting police car, but the boys resisted. They screamed hysterically as they battled for freedom, kicking, clawing, and biting her. Unable to handle the twins, the social worker yelled for Officer Falcone to assist her.
    Momentarily stunned, Marguerite gave her fallen comrade a quick, curious glance and then dropped to her knees and fell forward. Lying on her belly, she gave an anguished cry as she beat the bloody ground beside the man. Then her body became rigid as she stretched out her arms, fingers splayed. Nonsensically, her hands opened and closed as she gripped and released dirt and pebbles.
    Cautiously, his gun still drawn, Falcone crept forward.
    Marguerite sprang up; somehow, she’d gotten hold of a rock, a dangerous-looking rock with several jagged edges. She curled her lips angrily and took off, whizzing past Falcone with unusual speed. Frantic to retrieve her stolen babies, Marguerite drew back her arm and hurled the rock at the social worker. The rock missed the woman and struck a tree instead.
    A series of bullets fired from Officer Falcone’s weapon.
    The sudden blast of gunfire stilled the thrashing twins—silenced them as they witnessed their mother, back arched oddly, but