Frieda Lorraine Powell, nicknamed Becky, was the young niece of Ottis Toole, who was Lucas’ best friend. One day, whilst visiting his pal, Lucas happened to spot the girl-who at that stage had not yet hit puberty-and became besotted with her. A few years later, he came back for the girl and her brother, Frank, and took them with him on his rambles. Poor Frank went insane from seeing what Lucas did, and was later committed, but Becky stayed with him.
After a time, they ended up at a religious commune called the House of God, and settled there for a little while. One day, on the twenty-third of August in 1982, they decided to have a picnic. Becky, who was by now fifteen, was feeling quite homesick-and why wouldn’t she? She had been taken from the people and places she knew and was being dragged across America to put up with cultists, and all on the whim of her uncle’s middle-aged friend. She had every right to be fed up.
Lucas, however, didn’t see it that way. At some point during the argument, Becky slapped him. He picked up a knife and stabbed her to death. He hacked her body to pieces and scattered them around the field to rot.
Becky had no people to mourn her, other than her maniac Uncle Ottis and her wretched brother. She had been in foster homes for a good deal of her life. Did she see Lucas as a kind of escape route, her only hope for independance?
She was only fifteen years old.
Rest in piece, Becky Powell.