Taken (20 page)

The applause started up again. Dessi spoke over it. “I say thank you. Thank you very much.” He pointed to the sky. “And thank God.”

“Yes indeed. Now what might your mother say about all this?”

“My mother would be very happy. And my father.”

“Happy that their son was a real-life Ramiro Fortunato.”

Dessi tried to say something else about that last comment, but Mickie had already turned away and was addressing the camera. “Still, as you know, Dezi’s heroic actions could not prevent this tragedy. Charity Meyers was taken away by those kidnappers, a vicious band who also murdered her father in the process. Where is she now? We do not know. When we return, I’ll speak to some of Charity’s classmates to ask them how they are coping with this tragedy.”

Lena herded “my classmates” onto the stage. Dessi tried to step off, but Lena hissed at him to stay in place. Then I saw a young woman in the crowd with long, lustrous hair. She was standing to the right of the stage. Dessi bent down to ask her something, and she replied.

It was Victoria. Why on earth was
she
speaking to Dessi?

I puzzled about that as I watched the Dugan sisters clomp onto the back riser. They were followed by Sierra, Patience, Hopewell, and Sterling Johnston. Lena must have been distracted by all the water squirters, because she allowed Sterling Johnston to stand in the front. Apparently, he was still taking his medication.

As soon as they were all in place, Kurt the cameraman positioned himself in front of Mickie and she began: “A young child, just like these children standing behind me, is taken by ruthless kidnappers. What will happen to her? Let’s ask some of her classmates what they think. Sierra, do you believe you will see your classmate Charity again?”

At first, Sierra didn’t answer. But when the microphone remained in front of her, she muttered, “I don’t know.”

Mickie tried again: “Who does believe we will see Charity again, that we will get her back where she belongs?”

I watched with pride as Patience and Hopewell raised their hands.

“That’s right. So do I. And because I do, I want to address Charity directly.” I froze, but I quickly realized that Mickie was not looking at me. She was looking at Kurt. I met her gaze on the big vidscreen. “Charity, honey, I feel in my heart that you are still alive. I want you to know that we, meaning the crew and I and the people from GlobalKidSearch, the most successful victim-retrieval agency in the United States, are determined to find you. As soon as we leave here today, we are heading to South America. Could you have been taken there? To Brazil? To Argentina?”

Mickie backed up toward the Highlands kids in order to make her final remarks. “I intend to find out where you are, whatever it takes. I pray that we may have a glorious reunion show someday.” She paused and concluded, “But for the present, and for the near future, we will all be ‘living with the uncertainty’ of not knowing.” The red light blinked off, and Kurt lowered the camera.

As the people in front of the stage dispersed, my father slipped into the space next to me. “
Mi hija,
what did you think of all that?”

I answered with a whispered syllogism: “All Mickie Meyers specials are stupid. This was a Mickie Meyers special. Therefore, this was stupid.”

“Yeah. If she only knew how stupid, huh?”

His eyes twinkled merrily behind his old-guy disguise. I had to smile. But then I told him seriously, “You know why I’m really here, Papi. There’s someone I have to see.”

He nodded. “I know. You can go talk to her, but you must be very careful.”

“I will be.”

“We’ll have to be getting back soon, Cari. There’s much work to be done.”

“Sí, Papi.”
I stood for a few more minutes, watching as my classmates left the stage. I noticed that Whitney was not among them. I figured that her family wouldn’t let her leave The Highlands, not even in the security van. All the other Amsterdam Academy students were there, though, looking miserable, especially against the backdrop of the laughing, singing revelers.

Victoria’s words came into my head: “You need to live life, Miss. You need to have adventures.” Patience’s feisty spirit came into my head, too, and I decided to have an adventure. I walked right up to Sierra and the Dugans as they stood together, silently picking at threads in their plaid jumpers like uniformed orangutans. They did not seem to notice me. I stopped in front of Pauline Dugan and smiled. She didn’t even look up. I spoke to her anyway:
“Tu hermana es mierda.”

“Huh? Hey, Sierra, what’s she saying?”

Sierra sneered widely. “I don’t know.”

Maureen added, “Tell her to get lost, Sierra.”

“I told you! I don’t speak Spanish.”

“Yeah. Right.”

I pointed at each of them in turn and told them,
“Tú, y tu amiga, y tu hermana son mierdas. ¿Comprende?”

All three turned their backs. But before they did, Maureen snarled, “Hey, go tell it to the lawn guy.”

I smiled pleasantly and walked on, to my true destination.

Victoria was still standing to the right of the stage, where I had last seen her. I walked up and just stood for a moment. Then I pulled a small orange from my pocket and held it out for her to see. I whispered, in my best Spanish,
“¿Quiere usted una naranja?”

Victoria looked at the orange, and then at my hand, and then at my face. Her own face turned white with shock. She gasped out loud,
“¡Madre de Dios!”
and made the sign of the cross.

I wanted to say something else, something comforting, but she pushed past me and hurried off, walking in a strange, tilting way, like she was about to fall on her face. I followed her away from the crowd. She finally stopped next to a thick oak tree, leaned against it, and started to pray,
“Ave María, gratia plena…”

I waited until she finished the prayer to say, “I am so sorry, Victoria. I know this is a great shock.”

She kept staring at the ground. “
Milagro. Es un milagro.
It is a miracle.”

“I’m sorry to scare you. But I had to see you.”

“I prayed for this moment. And it has come true.”

“Yes.”

“I prayed that you would appear again.”

I answered softly, “And I have.”

Victoria closed her eyes. “
Madre de Dios.
When I was in the field that horrible night, I prayed and prayed to God. I said, ‘Tell me if she is hurt.’ When I heard nothing back, it gave me hope.”

She finally looked at me, her eyes flowing with tears, and whispered, “Oh, Miss.” She hugged me tightly to her for a long time. I melted away in her arms and cried, too, until she finally said, “I have never prayed so hard for guidance from God. From the Virgin Mary. From all the saints. I was so worried.”

“I was worried about you, too. What happened to you that night?”

“To me? Nothing.”

“You were so brave.”

She shook her head. “Me? Oh no.” She explained, “Ms. Meyers said not to give them the ransom until I saw you. But those men would not let me see you. So I was stuck. The only way out was to run. That way they could take the bag themselves, but I had not given it to them. See?”

“Yes. I see. So what did Mickie say when you got back?”

“She asked me what happened, and I told her the truth: ‘They took the bag.’ She said, ‘Where’s Charity?’ I said, ‘I don’t know.’ And that was that. She never asked anything else.”

I cast a quick look around and saw my father waiting by the stage. I whispered urgently, “I had to see you again. I wanted you to know I was all right. But I’m sorry, I can’t stay long and I can’t answer any questions.”

Victoria tried to follow my gaze. She wiped the tears from her eyes with two quick swipes. “Do you mean questions like, Are you well? Are you sleeping? Are you living life?”

I laughed in spite of myself. “Yes. Like those.”

“I will try.”

“Okay. But would you answer some for me? Please? There are things I need to know.”

Victoria nodded. She leaned her back against the tree and took several deep breaths. When she spoke again, she was calm. She said, “Let me tell you this first: I tracked that boy down who tried to help you. That Dessi. It’s Dessi, right? With
s
?”

“Yes. How did you ever find him?”

“Through Patience Patterson. She told me about a boy who they met in Mangrove. He broke up a fight between Patience and Hopewell and some others. He sounded like the boy I saw in the door of the kidnappers’ truck that night.”

“You saw him?”

“Yes, very clearly.”

“I was right behind him!”

She shook her head sadly. “Oh, Miss, I am so sorry.”

“No. No, don’t be. Go on.”

Victoria pointed toward the town center. “The next day, I drove to Mangrove, to where that fight happened. I asked around. I figured that people who would never talk to Patience, or to Hopewell, or to you”—she smiled—“to the
old
you, would talk to me. And they did! A woman told me about a tall boy with dark skin who was working at a clinic. I found him that day, and I had a long talk with him.”

I snorted. “You mean, he had a long talk with you?”

“What?”

“Wasn’t he arrogant?”

“No. Not at all. He was very sad, and sorry, and frightened. He told me what happened that night. Everything that he could remember.” Victoria looked back toward the stage. “I told some of it to Ms. Meyers. And she made up the rest.”

“Yeah. I know. I heard the broadcast.”

“Dessi said you were still alive, but he didn’t know too much more. He said everything was on a need-to-know basis, and he only knew what that Albert creep told him, or something like that.”

Victoria looked around, as if contemplating spitting on the ground again. “I wanted to have Albert arrested, you know.” She leaned toward me and whispered, “But Ms. Meyers did not. I am not sure why, but Albert always said that she was stealing currency from your father.” She straightened up again and spoke aloud. “Anyway, when I finished hearing what Dessi said about you, and how he had tried to help you, you know who I thought of.”

“Ramiro Fortunato.”

“Yes! I told Ms. Meyers that part. And I told her about Dessi wanting to be a doctor. And that’s why he got the scholarship. It’s like the end of a Ramiro story.”

A band of revelers danced past us and aimed some water our way. They wet our legs and shoes, but Victoria just smiled at them. I reached into my other pocket. “Before I go, will you do me a favor?
Por favor?
”

“Sí.”

I pulled out two
tornada
dolls—one carved with a
P;
one carved with an
H.
“These are for friends I will see again someday—Patience and Hopewell. The dolls will speak for themselves. Patience will know what they mean. Hopewell will, too, I’m sure.”

I held them waist high for her to see. “And, if you feel like having some fun, you could tell Patience that the
H
one is really for her. It stands for ‘hor.’” Victoria frowned. “It’s a joke. A private joke,” I assured her.

“It’s not so private, Miss. I know how you two joke around. Bad girls.”

“Sorry. Forget that part.”

Victoria took the dolls from me and slipped them into her coat pocket. “I’ll let
las tornadas
speak for themselves.”

I looked over at the stage. Patience, Hopewell, and the others were standing in a tight pack, surrounded by guards. Mickie and Dessi were talking to the mayor. Lena was behind them with an umbrella, trying to deflect the streams of water still being aimed at Mickie. I asked Victoria, “What did Mickie do when she got the instructions from the kidnappers? Did she consider calling the police?”

“No. She followed the instructions to the letter. Right from the beginning. Even after your father got killed, even after you disappeared, she still followed the instructions. After we switched to Plan B, she called the police and read a statement to them, word for word, just like it was written by the kidnappers. Then she shredded all of the instructions.”

“So…does she think I’m dead?”

“No. I told her that I think you’re alive. She believes that. She thinks your father is dead, of course.” Victoria paused to study my reaction. “And, of course, he is, officially. Right?”

I answered carefully, “Yes. He is officially dead,” and I changed the subject. “Is Mickie really going to look for me?”

Victoria kept staring at me for ten seconds. Then she answered, “Yes. In her way. She’s flying to Rio and Buenos Aires to shoot some video. She’s saying that you may have been sold to a wealthy family down there.”

“Yeah? As what? As their maid?”

Victoria smiled. “Yes, I suppose.” We both glanced over at Mickie. She was standing alone now on the center of the stage, with a blank expression on her face. Victoria told me kindly, “She doesn’t think too hard about things, Charity. Not like you and I do. This kidnapping was way too much for her.”

I liked hearing her say my name without the Miss, even if it was my old name, my past name. I answered, “Right. So what will you tell her about today?”

“That’s up to you. Do you want her to know that you’re okay?”

“No. Don’t ruin her show. I’ll be the missing child in South America. It doesn’t really matter to me. Not anymore.”

Victoria nodded solemnly. “I have to ask you one thing, though: Are you having any bad dreams?”

“No. Not one. Not since I left The Highlands.”

“Really?”

“Not even when I was a prisoner.”

She seemed to look within herself. “That’s very interesting. I’m glad to hear it.”

I told her, “So now you can get some sleep.”

“Yeah. I’ll need it. Now that I’ve given my notice.”

“What?”

“I’ve quit RDS.”

“Really?”

“Sure. Why would I stay? The house is sold. There’s no one to take care of.”

“You mean, there’s no one to follow to school because she forgot her lunch?”

“Right. And what about that, Charity? What about school? Where will you go?”

“I’m set to go to a Catholic school. I can’t tell you where, though. Okay?”

“Yes. I understand.”

“I’ll go to high school there, too, and then I’ll go to college. Like you.”