by Doug Draper
As Ben backed up to avoid being grabbed, Derek stepped out of the station and placed his large hands on Ben’s shoulders.
“What’s going on?” Derek asked. “I thought your family would be at the hospital.”
Ben looked down and noticed the 666 tattoo inches away from his face and involuntarily shuddered.
“My, oh my, this little boy is shaking like a leaf,” Derek said with a chuckle. “Benny, I hope I’m not making you so scared that you mess your pants.”
Ben tried to pull away from Derek, but he tightened his grip and Denny wrapped his right hand firmly around Ben’s left arm. He used it to guide Ben, with Derek’s help, toward the station’s back entrance, but not before Ben glanced at the truck bed. He noticed that it held his father’s air compressor, welding equipment, and tool boxes. He had interrupted Derek and Denny robbing the station.
After pushing Ben inside, Derek backed him up against the office desk. Susan Meadows, a high school student, sat behind the desk. Ben knew Susan because she was beautiful and worked at the Burger Barn. With her long blonde hair and skimpy shorts, Susan always caught Ben’s eye when he ate there with his family. She smiled smugly at Ben while she leaned back in the office chair with her bare feet on the desk, showing off her brightly painted toenails.
“Before you get the wrong idea, I need to explain what we’re doing,” Derek said. “We’re packing up a bunch of tools and then driving to the racetrack to fix your poor daddy’s car. I want to surprise him with a ready-to-go car when he gets out of the hospital.”
Ben knew that his father would be pleased if that happened, but he also recognized that Derek’s story stood as far from the truth as the sun is from the moon. Derek wasn’t a mechanic and even an excellent mechanic wouldn’t be able to fix No. 8.
When Ben didn’t respond to Derek’s explanation, Derek glared at him. “If you don’t want us to do this helpful thing for your dad, just say ‘No thanks’ and we’ll put all the tools back. But it’ll be your fault that your dad missed out on our neighborly kindness.”
Derek paused before asking, “So, what do you say? Should we go fix that car?”
“No thanks,” Ben whispered.
“Wrong answer!” Derek slapped Ben in the face with enough force that he bit his tongue and could taste blood in his mouth.
Before Ben could recover, Derek slapped him again and then punched him in the middle of his chest. Ben had been hit by his father and boys at school many times, but he had never experienced the pain delivered by this heavy blow. It dropped him to his hands and knees.
Derek pulled Ben back to his feet and smiled while watching him struggle to not fall again. “I’ll ask you nicely one more time. Will you please help us load the truck, so we can go fix your dad’s car?”
Ben took a deep breath and uttered “OK.” Then, he helped Derek and Denny finish carrying nearly all the tools and other valuables out of the station to his father’s truck. Due to this work, he added grease stains to his already well-marked shirt.
Derek then surprised Ben by telling him to ride in the truck with Denny. Until that moment, he thought Derek would tie him up or club him over the head with a tire iron and leave him in the station.
Before departing, Derek locked the station’s rear entrance. He noticed Ben watching and said with a laugh, “Don’t worry, Benny. I’m locking it up. We wouldn’t want anything to get stolen.”
Derek laughed, spinning the keys around his right index finger while walking to his motorcycle. Ben recognized the keys as his father’s set. Of course, Derek had ended up with them after the race. It suddenly struck Ben that Derek also had the $500 in prize money, which his mother counted on to pay the hospital bills.
Riding his loud motorcycle, Derek led the truck south on Main Street, brazenly leaving Alma with a teenage girl and a truckload of stolen tools behind him. When Derek turned south on Highway 91 and Denny followed him, Ben knew for certain there was no plan to fix the car. To reach the racetrack, they should have gone north. Ben considered pointing out the error, but he kept his mouth shut and focused on the scenery as they continued driving south, passing Payson and Santaquin and soon entering Juab County. He wondered where Derek planned to take him.
The answer came a few minutes later. Derek made a left turn from the highway and took a dirt road marked by a sign for the Bald Mountain Trailhead. After about two miles, the dirt road ended in an empty parking area that bordered the base of the mountain. Sagebrush, scrub oak, and juniper trees were scattered across the mountainside and valley.
Denny parked the truck next to the motorcycle, took the keys, and jumped out to chat with Derek. While Susan stretched next to the motorcycle, Derek and Denny slowly walked up the trail, never looking back at the parking area. After they had gone about one hundred yards and entered a wide canyon, Ben decided to escape.
He quietly slipped out of the truck and then dashed straight south, away from the two men and toward the mouth of a nearby canyon. Ben hoped it would include a trail too steep for Derek’s motorcycle to climb. If not, he would go off-trail and straight up the mountainside. Derek and Denny could follow him on foot, but the difficulty of the climb might discourage them from chasing him.
After running as fast as he could for two minutes over the sandy, rolling terrain, Ben heard Derek’s mocking laugh in the distance. He dropped to his hands and knees behind a lone juniper tree halfway between the parking area and the canyon he wanted to reach. Looking back, he could see Derek pointing in his direction and laughing.
“Hey Benny, I hope you enjoy your hike,” Derek shouted. “We’re taking off now to go fix your dad’s car. We’ll look for you on our way back.”
For a moment Ben almost believed Derek’s story, but he knew that they wouldn’t leave him in this deserted area if they truly planned to go the racetrack. So he ignored what Derek said and focused on what he did. He watched Derek and Susan get on the motorcycle and Denny return to the truck. They drove away from the parking area at a fast pace, leaving a cloud of white dust behind.
Ben realized that Derek wanted him to escape and felt stupid for making it happen so easily. He climbed to a higher point, which gave him a clear view of the entire dirt road. While sitting on a limestone ledge, he watched the motorcycle and truck finish the dusty trek back to the highway where they turned south, going away from the racetrack. Within a few minutes, Ben lost track of both vehicles.
“Now, what?” Ben asked himself while picking June grass seeds out of his socks. The seeds came from running off-trail during his dash to freedom. Being stranded more than twenty-five miles from home, he struggled to come up with an easy answer to his question. Sitting on a rock in the middle of nowhere clearly wouldn’t solve his problem.
“Time to get moving,” Ben muttered, standing up and wiping dust off his pants. Unless he hitched a ride, it would take hours to get back to Alma. The thought of making the long walk overwhelmed Ben, but he knew he could do it. He had already taken a ferocious punch from “the Beast” and survived.
CHAPTER 15
Walking back to the highway and catching a northbound ride took Ben nearly an hour. He fretted about every minute of the trek because it delayed his plan to get the sheriff to chase Derek and Denny and retrieve the stolen truck, tools, and money. While still in Juab County, the driver of a bright red station wagon pulled over next to him.
“Climb aboard,” the driver said, waving Ben toward the car. The oldest of the driver’s three kids opened the door to the backseat, stepped out, and told Ben to sit in the middle. Ben slid in next to a girl about his age with a younger boy sitting behind him in the cargo area. A woman was in the front seat with the driver.
“What’s a youngster like you doing out here all by yourself?” the driver asked.
“I caught three people robbing my dad’s service station and then they brought me out here to get rid of me while they ran off with all the stolen stuff.”
“What? That’s the most unbelievable story I�
��ve ever heard,” the man said, pulling back onto the highway. “Where do you live?”
“Alma.”
“Never heard of it. We’re heading back to Orem. Will we pass it on the way?”
“Yep, it’s in between Payson and Spanish Fork—up against the mountains.”
The woman asked, “How old are you?”
“Nine, but I’m small for my age, so most people think I’m younger.”
“Hmm, I’ve never met a nine-year-old who tried to stop a robbery, been kidnapped, and went hitchhiking all in one day,” the woman said, giving Ben the impression that she didn’t believe a word of his story.
“That’s what happened,” Ben said defensively. “You can drop me off at the sheriff’s office in Santaquin or Payson, so you don’t have to go out of your way. I’ll ask him to start looking for the people who robbed our station.”
“Nonsense,” the woman said. “You’re too young to be doing such things on your own. We need to take you home and let your parents call the police.”
The man agreed, and the woman turned in her seat to look at Ben. “Your parents must be wondering where you are by now and probably looking for you.”
“No, my dad is in the hospital in Provo and my mom is with him. I’m staying with my grandparents in Alma.”
“This story keeps getting better,” the man said, glancing over his shoulder at Ben. “I hope you don’t mind me asking why your father is in the hospital.”
Ben told the story about his father’s race and how another driver caused the wreck that put him into a coma. “My dad had the lead when the race was called off, so he ended up in first place,” he said with pride.
While traveling to Alma, Ben learned that his new friends, the Nelsons, had attended a family reunion in Nephi over the weekend and were returning to their home in Orem. The man introduced himself as Chuck and his wife as Helen. He talked the entire way to Alma, telling Ben about the games they played at the reunion and the mountain of food they ate.
When entering Alma, Ben pointed out Al Baker’s Service Station and then guided Chuck up the road to his grandparents’ house. His grandmother must have been expecting visitors because the Nelsons had barely set foot out of the station wagon when she hurried from the house to greet them.
“I’ve been praying for someone to find Ben. Thank you, thank you! We had no idea where he had gone.”
“Glad to help,” Chuck said. “We were traveling from Nephi to Orem and barely had to go out of our way to bring Ben here.”
“Where did you find him?”
“Hitchhiking south of Santaquin. He looked way too young to be out by himself, so we picked him up.”
Ben’s grandmother turned to face him and asked, “Ben, what in the world were you doing way down there?”
He quickly told the story about Derek and Denny robbing the service station and let her know that she needed to call the sheriff.
“Please hurry up so the sheriff can find Derek or else we’ll be broke,” Ben said. “He cleaned us out—and even took the prize money from the race last night. It’s all gone.”
The Nelsons stayed with Ben while his grandmother went into the house to phone the sheriff. When she returned, she invited the Nelsons inside for punch and cookies. She said the sheriff wanted Chuck and Helen to wait for him, so they could talk.
The sheriff arrived about fifteen minutes later. He disappointed Ben by showing up at a normal speed, without his siren wailing and lights flashing. He quietly pulled up in front of the house and slowly got out of his car. While his grandmother chatted with the Nelsons, Ben let the sheriff in.
“Are you Ben Baker?” he asked, bending down to look at Ben’s face as soon as he entered the house.
“Yes, sir,” he said, feeling intimidated by the stern sheriff who examined him closely and touched his face where Derek had slapped him.
“Did someone hit you?”
“Yes, Derek Dean, the man who works for my dad.”
“Derek is someone I know well,” the sheriff said. “Did he cause you to bleed?”
The sheriff pointed at the dried blood stains on Ben’s shirt.
“I had a little bit of blood in my mouth after he slapped me, but the blood on my shirt is from holding my dad’s helmet after the crash at the racetrack.”
“Tell me why Derek hit you.”
“Derek was mad about something and slapped me—twice. And then he hit me in the chest.”
The sheriff carried a form attached to a clipboard and made a few notes on it before shifting his attention to the Nelsons.
“Good afternoon, I’m Sheriff Tom Kort and appreciate you folks waiting for me,” he said. “I only need to ask you a few questions and promise to keep it brief.”
“No problem, Sheriff,” Chuck said. “We’re glad to help.”
Sheriff Kort nodded and uttered a quiet “Thank you” before turning toward Grandma Thorne and saying, “Mrs. Thorne, after I finish talking to the Nelsons, I’ll have some questions for you and then need to spend more time with Ben.”
The sheriff proceeded with his plan and did it quickly, but Ben continued to worry about how far Derek had already traveled. He wanted Sheriff Kort to jump in his car and track down the thieves immediately.
Before the Nelsons left, Chuck patted Ben on the head and Helen gave him a hug and lecture. “Be careful in the future, young man. You were lucky that we found you instead of someone who likes to hurt children.”
The sheriff conducted a short interview with Grandma Thorne and then asked her to stay in the room while he interviewed Ben. Before getting started, Grandpa Thorne and Joe returned to the house.
“Mr. Thorne, I’m collecting information about a theft from your son-in-law’s gas station,” the sheriff said. “I’ll fill you in on the details as soon as we’re done here.”
Grandpa Thorne patted Ben on the shoulder and said, “Glad you’re all right.” Then he sat nearby, listening to Ben’s interview with the sheriff.
Sheriff Kort continued to ask Ben questions about what happened at the station. When Ben repeated his mention of being hit in the chest by Derek, the sheriff said, “Pull up your T-shirt so I can see if the blow left a mark.”
Ben complied, and the sheriff kneeled in front of him to get a closer look. “Wow! You’re going to have a giant bruise there in the morning. I’ll need you to come to the station tomorrow, so we can take a photo of that for evidence.”
The sheriff turned to Ben’s grandfather and added, “When we catch Derek, he’s going to prison for a long time. I plan to request charges of burglary, theft, assault, kidnapping, and whatever else I can throw at him.”
Grandpa Thorne stood up and approached Ben. “I want to see the mark that coward left on you.”
Ben twisted toward his grandfather. As he did, the sheriff lifted Ben’s shirt higher and leaned behind him. Ben could tell that he was looking at his back and realized what he had discovered—the bruises from his fall on the ladder. Knowing where the sheriff’s interest in those bruises could lead, he pulled on his shirt to hide them.
“Hold on there, Ben,” the sheriff said. “I need to check out your back. It’s covered with bruises. Did Derek do this to you too?”
Ben made the quick decision to lie. “Yes, sir. He did that too.”
“How?”
“With a board. I didn’t want to help Derek load the truck, so he started beating me with a board.”
“Did he hit you anywhere else?”
“Uh, yeah, kind of.”
“Can you show me?”
“Sure, but I need to pull down my pants.”
Grandma Thorne asked, “Would you feel more comfortable if I left the room?”
“Sure,” Ben said.
After she left, Ben slowly pulled his pants down to show the sheriff the large dark bruise on his thigh where his father had kicked him.
“How did that happen?” the sheriff asked.
“Derek kicked me.”
“Why?”<
br />
“When leaving the station, I told Derek that I didn’t want to go with him.”
Ben felt guilty about lying to the sheriff, but he didn’t know what else to say. The truth could get his father into trouble. The sheriff made additional notes, asked more questions, and then scheduled a time in the morning for Ben to be at his office for photos.
“I can’t go in the morning. I have school.”
“I’ll write you an excuse for school. This is important. I want photos taken while those injuries are fresh. I’ll see you in the morning.”
As the sheriff prepared to leave, Ben let his frustration out. “When are you going to start looking for Derek? It seems like you’re not even trying to find him.”
With a kind smile, Sheriff Kort pulled a sheet of paper from behind the form on his clipboard and handed it to Ben. “As soon as your grandma called, I asked my deputy to distribute this bulletin to every sheriff’s office in the state. They’ll all be looking for your father’s truck and Derek’s motorcycle. Trust me, Derek and his friends are not going to get away.”
Ben mumbled a “Thank you” to the sheriff and they shook hands. When departing, the sheriff made a frightening pledge to Grandpa Thorne.
“Don’t worry. We’re going to catch the coward who hurt your grandson and will make him pay.”
CHAPTER 16
The next day, Ben visited the sheriff’s office for an uneasy photo session. The discomfort began with having to strip down to his briefs for the deputy who shot the photos. It intensified when answering the sheriff’s questions about how Derek bruised his back and thigh. To support his previous claim, he invented details to create a complete story.
The interview and photo session drained Ben emotionally and made it difficult to focus when he returned to school. He thought about the problems caused by his lies. If Derek was arrested, he would call Ben a liar and ask the sheriff to check his story with Joe—and Ben knew his brother would tell the truth.
When classes ended for the day, Rachel picked up her sons at school and already had her daughters in the car. She came with good news—the kids could visit their father.