Wishful Thinking (27 page)

It took some doing, but I finally fell asleep. By eleven my eyes were heavy and I couldn’t wait any longer for the sounds of my dad’s Mercedes pulling into the garage. I’m not sure how long I’d been asleep, but a loud bang pulled me from dreamland. My phone was lit up, theme song from Batman playing.
 

I picked it up, swallowed away sleepiness and said, "Hello."

“Junior?”

“Hey, dad," I said. Light and casual.
 

“I talked to, Dr. Patterson."

“Yeah,” was all I said.
 

“I want to explain.” There was definite sorrow in my dad’s voice.
 

‘Why didn’t you tell me?"

Dad took a deep breath, "Look, it’s complicated but when I get home …" creaking sound maybe metal, deep inhale, "… I’ll tell you everything, explain … I promise."

I wanted to be angry with him, give him a load of crap for not telling me about this but hearing his voice changed my mind. “Yeah, okay,” I said instead.
 

There was another squeak on my dad’s side then he said, "I love you, Junior."

“Yeah, all right …” I said, waited a moment and finally added, “love you too.”

My dad exhaled, “Okay, keep your phone with you I’ll be home soon.”

I’d barely clicked off the phone when a loud crash downstairs had me bolting up in bed. I snatched up my phone, and pulled on a pair of pants and t-shirt. If someone were in the house I wouldn’t be caught in my underwear. I held my breath and listened, but didn’t hear any follow-up sounds.
 

Maybe I’d imagined it?

 
Crunch. Someone walking on broken glass.
 

I froze.

Crunch, crunch. Get to the closet. Call 911. My hand trembled, phone clutched against my chest. Two steps toward my closet and the number nine dialed.

Click.

Something hard and cold pressed to the back of my head. Chills ran down my spine.

“Don’t make a sound or I’ll kill you, understand?" came a gruff voice in my right ear.

I nodded.
 

“Good. Put your hands behind your back."

There was a loud zipping sound as something cold drew snug around my wrists and more zipping noises as those ties were tightened giving me zero wiggle room. With my hands secured behind my back the cold metal lowered from my head and a cloth bag dropped over my face effectively blinding me from who, what and where. Yep, no doubt I was in hell or a variation of it.
 

A sharp jab took me in the ribs crumpling me to my knees. I managed a loud wail right before a punch to my abdomen. The sucker punch knocked the wind out of me.
 
I hunched over falling face down on the ground trying to catch a breath that wouldn’t come.
 

“I said shut-up," came gruff voice again. He followed his warning with a kick to my ribs effectively silencing me. Two hands slid up under my arms and gripped my chest. "Get his legs," said the voice. Two-seconds and another set of hands grabbed my ankles and I was lifted off the floor.
 

 
Okay, don’t panic, I told myself for all the good it did. I struggled until the guy gripping my shoulders said, “Do you want me to make this worse?”
 

I stopped. The anger in his deep voice made me.
 

I was going to die.
 

Within a few minutes we were outside. Cold air sent goosebumps up and down my arms and legs. There were sounds of car doors opening and a beep. Then I felt the air shift around me and the hands holding me lightened and then I was falling. My head banged against cold metal and something soft but unbending dug into my back.
 

Where were they taking me? Smell of cigarettes, Old Spice and sweat were ripe in the air.
 
I tried to formulate a plan, but without the use of my hands, nothing came to me.

"Just in case," the deep ugly voice said and then another slam of something hard against the side of my face.
 

Lights out.
 

My head sagged against my chest as a door slammed shut.
 

When my eyes opened again I was laying in mud staring up at the inside of a car.
 

“You need to get out of here and hurry," came a small squeaky voice to my left. I sat up on my elbows and turned to see the brown-haired, pigtailed girl on her knees in the mud which was at least five inches thick. She crawled through the passenger side window into the car, and sat down on roof over the passenger, her yellow dress getting covered by mud.
 

“If you don’t get out of here you’ll die and then you won’t be able to save her."

I agreed with her, but I didn’t exactly know where here was and I didn’t have a clue who I had to save or why?
 

I laid back down, “Maybe I want to die, maybe it’d be easier and there wouldn’t be all this pressure."

“You and I both know you don’t mean that."

“You’re not real, nothing more than a figment of my imagination."

“Who says?" she asked twirling a pigtail around her finger.

“Whatever,” I muttered. If I didn’t think she was real I shouldn’t engage in conversation with her, instead, I should figure out what in the world I was doing lying on the interior ceiling of a car flipped over in an embankment, while rain poured down. She placed her tiny hand on my forearm and a jolt of electricity shot through my arm. She tilted her head and her doe eyes blinked at me.

Her pigtails slapped her cheeks as she shook her head, “No you don’t. You have to get moving."

“Why? What’s the point, you’re like five, you don’t know anything."

“At least I’m not delusional,” she said and removed her hand from my arm.
 

Without another word tears sprung to my eyes and spilled over my cheeks. I tried to wipe at them but more came.
 

“It’s okay to cry sometimes,” she whispered, “it doesn’t mean you’re weak."

“I’m not weak," I said still trying to catch my tears, “but boys shouldn’t cry and men never do.”

“Everyone is allowed to be weak sometimes, and everyone is allowed to let their pain out sometimes too. No man is an island."

“Oh god, please don’t spring poetry on me."

She smiled, “Would Faulkner be better?"

“No,” I said flatly, “anyways you’re to young for Faulkner?"
 

I’d snapped, obviously. At the moment I didn’t know if I was awake, asleep, or somewhere else completely. I hoped it was somewhere else completely.
 

“Who are you? Why are you tormenting me?" I turned over on to my stomach so I could look into her tiny face.
 

Brown eyes stared back at me, “If you don’t get out of here you’ll never find out."

"You don’t know do you," I said a statement rather than a question. Yep, I had snapped. I squeezed my eyes shut, “This is the worst moment to go completely nuts."

“We can argue about this later, right now you have to get out of here. Come on," she said shimmying backwards
 
out the car door window.
 

She was right I should get out of here. Making my way through the mud and out the car door window took a bit of finesse on my part. After a bit of struggling I was free. Every part of my body ached, but was intact and unbroken.
 

Small miracle.
 

Couldn’t say the same for the car. Black sedan upside-down, dented with two flat tires. Couldn’t tell you make or model and I wasn’t sticking around long enough to find out.
 

Pigtails waited for me on the embankment, she used her hand to shield her eyes from rain as she looked up towards the street, “Nobody will find us down here."

“Don’t you mean me, they won’t find me," I turned to face her but she was gone. Great, even my delusions weren’t sticking around. There was no time for this. I could argue with myself later. I climbed up the embankment slipping and sliding in the slick mud. I had to dig my fingers into the muck in order to get enough of a grip to climb up and get back to the road.
 

Rain pelted me from every direction narrowing my field of vision, and drowning out everything but the sounds of my breathing. My fingers were cramped by the time I felt asphalt beneath them and I collapsed. The sounds of my breathing louder than even the rain which continued to pour down blowing in every direction and feeling like shards of ice as it hit me.
 

As I got to my feet I looked up in time to see headlights coming towards me at a fast rate of speed. We collided jarring me forward.

I fell back screaming. The wind knocked from my lungs. I tried to grab at my head but my hands were tied to a chair I was stuck in and couldn’t move. Struggling didn’t help because my feet were tied too. I couldn’t see anything it was pitch black and my head was throbbing.
 

Someone grunted, “Dammit.”
 

Then as suddenly as I had fallen I was being lifted, and then I was sitting up. The bag removed from my head. My eyes took a few seconds to adjust to the light. I was in a large room, brick walls, cement floor, smell of oil and gasoline. A garage maybe? To my left brick wall no windows or door. On an opposing wall directly in front of me was an aluminum desk and swivel chair but no window or door and nothing to give away my location.
 

To my right, was Claudia tied up in a chair.
 

Her hands and legs were secured with zip ties and duct tape covered her mouth too. A trickle of blood ran from her left eyebrow down her cheek.
 

Shit.
 

Her eyes were closed was she dead?
 

Shit.
 

“Claudia,” I said.
 

She blinked at me then quickly looked back down.

“You just won’t shut up will you?” a voice said before delivering a slap to the back of my head. Dammit that hurt, I’d taken more hits to the head in the last two weeks than I had in three years of playing rugby.
 

I struggled to look behind me, but I wasn’t an owl.
 

 
A man stepped in front of me and slapped a large piece of tape over my mouth. “You won’t shut-up. This’ll make you."
 

He laughed. I looked back at Claudia. Why in the world was Claudia here? Where was here for that matter? Shit.

The man who’d slap the duct tape over my mouth moved up towards the desk, a slight gimp with each left step.
 

“Hey boss you need anything else?”

He leaned against the desk and that’s when I noticed the other guy, sitting in the swivel chair staring at Claudia and me.
 

The overhead lighting dulled his features into a dubious image. Two days stubble covered his chin and neck, dark eyes, creepy stare; dark hair, perfect military cut; olive toned skin. Possible scar over his right eye. Imposing size. Tight black sweater beneath dark gray suit jacket. Black slacks, slick-shined shoes and gold watch.
 

“Tell Lenny to make the call. We’re ready."

Gimpy nodded and exited, leaving the three of us.
 

"Please don’t get up," suit said laughing as he stretched his arms over his head. He yawned then reached his hand inside his jacket.
 

“It’s not personal, I hope you know that, but someone has to pay and I’ve found children offer the most bang for your buck."

My mouth opened to retort, but duct tape stopped me.
 

"Mind?" he asked.

He was pulling something out.
 

Oh shit, oh shit, he was going to kill me, right here right now and for what? I didn’t know, but tensed up and closed my eyes afraid of what was coming.
 

"Shit," I said muffled by the tape.
 

He laughed.
 

A match struck.
 

I peeked out a squinted eye to see him lighting a cigar. He smiled at me before shaking out the match. “That comes later,” he said.
 

What the hell did he want from me and Claudia?

Shit, shit, shit.

“From all I’ve heard you two are pretty smart kids, then again my sis was no slouch herself. No. She could have gone far I imagine if not for low self-esteem.” He whispered, “She had a thing for the bad boys, you know.”

Shit.
 

My go to word and the only one I was capable of saying or thinking at the moment. I pushed back against the chair. Zip ties dug further into my skin forming welts beneath.
 

 
Suit took a few puffs of his cigar and blew out smoke rings before settling back in his swivel chair. It was a scene out of Godfather and I waited for him to ask for his favor. (Side-note smoke rings can be terrifying.)

Suit swiveled his chair to face Claudia and I. Smoke streamed from his mouth as he asked, “Do you recognize me?”

Claudia looked wide-eyed at me, she didn’t know who this freak was either.