Up Close And Gone

by Jennie Spallone

  “He was a hotty, as we used to call cute guys. Tall, well-built, dark hair, green eyes.”

  “What was his name?”

  This time she shielded her face in her hands. “I don’t know.”

  He forcefully lifted her chin. “No more games!”

  “I was drunk,” she pleaded. “We danced to Saturday Night Fever! Sweaty. Music pounding. Strobe lights on the dance floor making my head hurt. I left my drink at the bar and stumbled to the bathroom. When I came back, he’d gotten refills for us both. Next thing I know, I was sprawled on a bed. Alone. Naked. Sun streaming into the room.”

  “Shame on you, copping a Me Too experience!”

  “Political figures and celebrities aren’t the only rapists, Daniel.”

  “Did you report it? That’s what you advise date rape victims to do.”

  Her eyes widened.

  He snickered. “I’ve read quite a few of your newspaper stories, Mommy.”

  Shana stared into her son’s eyes. “I didn’t report your father, Daniel. In those days, women who were sexually assaulted were made to feel like criminals.”

  “Nothing’s changed there,” he scoffed.

  She stared at him. “You seem to know a lot about the subject.”

  He wasn’t biting. “You package bogus advice in neon gift bags.”

  Despite her emotional pain at revealing the sordid events leading to her pregnancy, Shana couldn’t help but admire Daniel’s visual imagery. Her thoughts began to drift; perhaps her son could be a writer, or a poet. She could see him now, standing before hundreds of people eager to hear every uttering of this talented wordsmith.

  Snip. Snip.

  Shana whirled around to find a handful of purple and blonde hair lying on the floor by her feet. Her hand went to the back of her head. “What did you do?” she shrieked.

  “Helping you refocus.”

  “I want out of here, you son of a bitch!”

  “So you finally admit you’re a bitch!”

  “If you don’t release me, I’ll shit all over the floor again,” she threatened.

  Daniel shrugged. “That’s your choice. FYI, we’re out of paper towels, and the ammonia bottle is empty, so….”

  Shana began picking at the skin on her arms. “What do you want?”

  “Finish your story, and I’ll let you go.”

  She willed her breathing to slow. “The advice I offered rape victims was not the advice I received when it happened to me. I felt like a used condom, but my parents were too stoned to offer me anything more than a peace necklace.”

  Daniel broke out into a guffaw. “You paint great pictures with your words!”

  Shana raised her eyebrows.

  Daniel turned solemn. “Were you a virgin when you had sex with my father?”

  The fact that she had been a virgin at the time of the rape. “My prior sex life has nothing to do with the fact that your father drugged and raped me. I did not give my consent to have intercourse with him. He took what he wanted and left.”

  “Like Robin Hood.”

  “Nothing like Robin Hood.”

  “Did you tell your friends, your teachers, anybody besides grandma and grandpa?”

  Hearing her son refer to her parents as his grandma and grandpa was absurd. When she’d gone into labor, they’d been so zoned out, her best friend drove her to the hospital.

  Now he was in her face. “What’s so damn funny?”

  As a reporter, Shana had demonstrated the cunning of a jaguar; planning, foreseeing her opponent’s every move. But her captor’s continuous mood changes had reduced her to a hamster running on a wheel.

  Confusion burst through her consciousness; the confusion she’d seen in veterans with PTSD. She had to try one more time to get through to him. “Do you take medication, Daniel?”

  He looked away. “Not your business.”

  Shana attempted to calm her breath, breathing in and out slowly. “My dad was bi-polar. He smoked marijuana and took LSD to self-medicate. He hung himself when he was forty-nine years old. I don’t want that for you.”

  Her captor jumped to his feet and pulled his knife on her. “Enough!”

  Shana’s eyes widened as the singing blade threatened to sting her carotid artery.

  Chapter 21

  David

  With the hullabaloo over Detective Hernandez’s non-evidence summary, David hadn’t gotten a chance to talk privately to his girls about what concerned him most. Rachel had mentioned the nurses and doctor were in and out of her room all morning, so he planned an afternoon visit.

  When David meandered into the room around noon, cane in hand, Rachel was in the bathroom and Becca was already chowing down, if you considered kale and endive salad with pecans and mandarin oranges to be an actual meal.

  “Hey, Daddy,” said Becca. “Want some of my salad? I’m trying to eat healthy.”

  Leaning on his cane, David bent down to kiss her on the cheek and got a smidge of honey mustard dressing on his lips.

  “Thanks, but no thanks. These days, my stomach and raw greens are at a stand-off.”

  His younger daughter grinned. “I’m no great salad fan, either, but I promised Rachel I’d give it a try.”

  “They bring that salad to the room?”

  She nodded. “Rachel ordered it for me,” she said in-between forking orange slices into her mouth. “Want something to eat, daddy? I can grab you something from downstairs after I’m done eating.”

  David waved off Becca’s concern—a gesture that drove his wife crazy. You never let me do anything nice for you, and then you call me selfish, she’d say. He yearned to hear her words of concern for him right here, right now. “I’ll run down to the cafeteria later.”

  His daughter chuckled. “You’re so funny.”

  David attempted a high, squeaky voice. “What did I do now?”

  “You said ‘run.’ You can barely walk.”

  He hung his head in mock chagrin. “Next time I’ll be more exact with my verbiage.”

  She giggled. “See that you do!”

  David placed his cane against the wall and took a seat opposite his daughter. “So, how’s your big sister feeling today?”

  Rachel shuffled out of the bathroom. “I’m right here, Dad. I can answer for myself.”

  David’s face lit up at sight of his older daughter. “How’s my princess doing today?”

  She carefully hugged him and maneuvered herself back into her bed. “Much better, thanks. They unhooked the IV magnesium drip before you got here, so no more IV pole, thank goodness! But having to wear these support hose so I don’t get a blood clot is annoying.”

  Becca grimaced. “Better than the alternative. Want me to prop your bed so you can eat?”

  Rachel pressed the button. “Got it. Thanks, though.”

  David grimaced. His younger daughter was solicitous, just like Shana. But Rachel was fiercely independent, just like him; they both abhorred being fussed over. No indication Becca felt slighted by her sister’s response, though. Unlike his wife, she didn’t take it personally. She was more self-confident, while Shana required constant confirmation of her self-worth, especially in the months since she’d retired from the Newspaper.

  “Bec,” said Rachel, “can you please pump some hand sanitizer on a paper towel for me?”

  Becca put aside her food tray and sprang from her chair.

  “I could have gotten it,” said David. “Your sister is still eating.”

  Both girls locked eyes from across the room. His eyes burned as he read the unspoken message between them. It would take him at least five minutes to accomplish even that simple mobility task. First he’d have to push himself out of the chair—three tries was the charm. He’d grab for his cane, and then shuffle over to the sink, one step at a time. By the time
he completed the task, Rachel would be finished eating.

  As Rachel wiped down her bedside table with the moist paper towel, David switched topics. “What did the doctor say about the baby?”

  “Her heartbeat’s strong, thank God. They’re giving me an ultrasound today to make sure her lungs and organs are developing as they should. Any new updates on mom yet?”

  “The detective has contacted all the park vendors to see if anyone noticed a person with an oversized black umbrella and alligator shoes before it began to storm.”

  “Yesterday, she said everybody left the park when the weather got bad,” said Becca.

  Rachel used her finger to scrape up the last bit of lettuce on her plate, then pushed her bedside table aside. “A lot of people probably brought their umbrellas to the park Sunday.”

  “The weatherman said sunny and hot all day,” said Becca. “If the skies are clear, you’re not going to cart a big umbrella along.”

  Rachel put her feet on the floor, and then stepped into her slippers. “Some cultures use umbrellas to guard against the sun.”

  Becca placed her hands on her hips. “Okay, Miss Know-it-all!”

  “Okay, Miss Sold-it-all,” teased Rachel.

  “Okay, Miss Sang-it-all,” retorted Becca.

  “Okay, Miss Olang Sang Ruby Institute all,” countered Rachel.

  David laughed along with his daughters. Overnight camp had been a joyful time for his daughters, as well as a welcome respite for him and Shana. It had been a month of eating at whatever time they chose, making food choices the kids hated, exploring wine vineyards and going dancing at midnight without having to worry about where the kids were. It was great to reconnect with each other after months of operating on autopilot with everybody’s crazy schedules. Engaging in sex without fear the kids would burst into their bedroom at any minute, complaining of upset stomachs or nightmares.

  In later years, when the girls were engaged as camp counselors for the whole summer, he and Shana would use their accumulated vacation and personal days to splurge on annual couple cruises they’d arranged a year prior.

  Those vacations had made both of them giddy. But try as they might, once they got home, the intensity of their renewed love would fade within a week or two. Soon, they’d begin bickering about who was doing what chore and who was driving what child to basketball or drama. When his health went to shit, that had added money to his wife’s list of complaints.

  “Where do you think you’re going, Rach? The doctor said you’re not allowed to get out of bed except to go to the bathroom.”

  “Hawaii!” joked Rachel.

  “But you and Zan have already been there.”

  Rachel snapped her fingers. “Exactly!”

  “Exactligh.”

  “Exactlow.”

  “Exactpee!”

  “Stop!” Rachel giggled. “You’re making the baby kick!”

  “Silly mommy and auntie,” said David.

  “Come on, Daddy,” said Becca. “I’ll walk you down to the cafeteria.”

  “For a minute, I thought you were asking me to walk you down the aisle!” he joked.

  “You already did that with Rachel,” she teased.

  David attempted to rise from his chair, but his body was unwilling. It took him a couple of tries, but he was finally able to extract his credit card from his wallet without first standing. “Go yourself. Get me a cheese sandwich and chocolate ice cream. I’ll stay with your sis.”

  “Thought you have high cholesterol?” Becca asked.

  “Don’t tell Mom,” he kidded.

  Both girls’ faces dropped.

  “Sorry,” he whispered.

  Rachel inched toward the bathroom. “Walking is good for you, Dad.”

  “Leave Daddy alone, Rach. He doesn’t want to go, and that’s that.”

  “I’m just a stubborn old bastard, that’s what Mom always...”

  Shit. Shana’s disappearance was turning him inside out and upside down.

  Becca grabbed his credit card and headed into the hallway.

  Chapter 22

  Shana

  “You can open your eyes now.”

  Shana forced herself to do so, unsure if she was still alive.

  Daniel replaced the pocketknife in its sheath, then smiled down at her.

  “It’s been a long morning. Don’t know about you, but I’m ready for a nap.”

  She was dumbstruck. One second her son’s knife was at her throat, the next he’s talking nap time.

  Daniel pulled two neon pacifiers from his pocket; he tossed the turquois one to her. Too shocked to reach for it, she let it drop.

  “Suit yourself. This thing helped me quit smoking, saved my life. Relieves anxiety without ….”

  “You promised to let me go once I told you about your birth father,” Shana whimpered. “What more do you want from me?”

  Daniel retrieved the fallen pacifier and gently placed it in her lap. “You’re overwrought. A nap will help you think more clearly.”

  “Your father raped me, that’s all there is to tell,” she screeched.

  Shana’s captor leaned down to clap her cheeks. “And I’m your avenging angel.”

  Her hand flew to her face and she gasped. Was this just one more mind game, or did Daniel actually plan to kill his birth father?

  Now he presented her with a blown-up air mattress. “Sorry, but I can’t provide you with any sheets, in case you choose to adopt my grandma’s exit plan. Rest well. FYI, I’m not going to re-shackle your arms this time.”

  Shana felt the familiar adrenaline rush. “You’re certain I won’t figure out a way to cut the rope around my calves and escape?”

  Daniel looked at her with compassion. “You’re welcome to try, but BTW, your success is unlikely. While working in cyber security, I developed a childproofing app that parents can operate without being in close physical proximity to their child.”

  So he was in cyber security, after all, Shana mused. But the black medical bag and his haste in ministering to her medical needs made zero sense when his compassion was followed by torture.

  “You employed your app before coming back into the kitchen,” Shana said, disheartened.

  Her son chuckled as he knelt to tighten the Nylon knot around her ankles. “No denying I inherited my brains from you! Just to clarify, all kitchen cabinets, drawers, doors beneath the sink, as well as food pantry, stove, and refrigerator, have been secured.”

  Then he rose to his feet. “Rest well. I’ll be asking for a full report on how the pacifier worked for you. Don’t let me down.”

  Shana flung the turquoise pacifier across the kitchen.

  Then she rolled onto the air mattress and shut her eyes.

  Chapter 23

  Becca

  Rachel had shed her hospital gown between hot flashes and was now shivering beneath three blankets. She said her chest felt heavy again, but the nurse assured her that all these symptoms were normal side-effects of the magnesium drip. At least Rachel was not experiencing any contractions. The nurse gave her another shot of steroids in each booty cheek, which artificially speeds up the baby’s lung development, just in case the baby was as stubborn as her mother and broke free from the womb.

  Dr. Nayman came in to check on Rachel, and said she and the baby were doing fine. She reminded Rachel to stay off her feet, except to go to the bathroom. Then she exited the hospital room.

  Becca pulled a chair up to her sister’s bedside. Rachel pressed the elevate button for the bed, and then swung her cleared breakfast table over her sheets. “What do you got?”

  Today, she’d brought a couple of their favorite board games. Their dad used to play Chutes & Ladders with them, but to this day, Mom preferred Trouble, Parcheesi, and Chinese Checkers, which they played at their weekly get-togethers
. Mom laughed her head off when she won; a rare occurrence since Rachel was the board game wizard in the family.

  “Are you okay with playing an acting game first?” Becca asked. In the acting class she taught, Becca had her students adopt the poses of various animate objects. She personally found rocks to be the most challenging; although composed of a solid mixture of several minerals, they remain in constant flux. Water wore them down, bit by bit, year after year, smoothing their sharp edges. If Mom were here, Becca would tease her about smoothing her edges! She’d retort, “If I was a rock, I couldn’t nuzzle your neck!” Becca swiped at my teary eyes. It’s all about Mom.

  Rach snickered. “What acting game can I possibly play from bed?”

  “Let’s pretend we’re sea urchins.”

  “Can I pretend I’m the Little Mermaid instead?”

  “Little pregnant Mermaid.”

  “Arielle wasn’t so young when she fell in love with the prince!”

  “True.”

  “It’s not like he was a pedophile,” she joked.

  “So not funny.”

  “And why are we playing sea urchins and Little Mermaid?”

  “Because laughter relieves pain.”

  Rach grasped her throat. “So dry.”

  Drama queen! Becca refilled her Styrofoam glass; the clear stream of water bounced off melting ice cubes.

  Her sister sipped the water. “Thanks. Mind if we just play board games, instead?”

  “Whatever.” Becca sighed as she removed Trouble from its box.

  “It’s just that mom and I used to play Little Mermaid when I was little.”

  Becca giggled. “Mom is a Little Mermaid.”

  Rach swiped a tear from her eye. “Mom took me to see the original movie when I was four years old. It was my favorite. We used to sing those songs together all the time. She and Dad even bought me an Arielle dress.”

  Becca grimaced. “Because you were the favorite child.”

  “Because you weren’t born yet! I remember how Mom and I took tap dancing classes together when she was eight months pregnant with you. I miss her sooo much.”

  Becca reached in for a hug when her cell rang. “Hey, Dad. Great! See you soon!” She clicked off the phone.