by Cheri Lewis
“Why would they think you were the government? Never mind.” These people are obviously delusional.
“I came up on them in the woods and told them I was look for some missing cats.”
“They thought you were the government because of that?”
“She didn’t give me chance to explain. She whopped me a good one upside my head and I was out. Woke up here in this cage.”
I swallow the huge lump in my throat and even though deep down I know. I saw his lifeless body with my own eyes but I still have to ask. I have to know. “Have you seen Joe? My dog?”
“I haven’t seen him.” That glimmer of hope instantly disappears when he looks down then back up and I know just by the look on his face it isn’t good. “Them two is from this afternoon.” I look back over my shoulder at two hides. “They ate a cat right in front of me,” he states with shock and complete disgust.
Did they? Could they? Thinking about Joe rips my heart wide open again. My emotions are all over the place— fear, hopelessness, pain, anger. I want to lie over right where I am and cry. They killed Joe? My Joe? I feel like curling up and dying right along with him. The pain in my chest is excruciating. I begin to sob with the feeling of loss I’ve never felt before. I lean forward against the tree resting my forehead trying to catch my breath through my tears.
“Willer… Willer, you got to listen to me. Come over here and let me see if I can get you untied before they get back,” he whispers with desperation in his voice.
My eyes shoot open and like a light switch that’s flipped. Now I’m pissed. Yes, I need to be untied before they get back. Survival mode kicks in. I push off the log with my body. My hip throbs where the bruise is from hitting it on the step Saturday. I groan as I push myself on around to where I’m on my knees. It takes me a few tries but I’m able to get my arms around my butt. I fall back flat on my back as I maneuver them around my feet. I then do a scoot hop again to the tree and throw myself across it. The tree rubs my arm raw as I continue to wiggle over using my feet to help push. I roll to where he is lifting arms and I tremble with adrenaline. Corky’s still tied up. His arms are bound in front and he’s able to get his fingers through the metal bars enough to pick at the strap on my wrists. Once he gets it started I begin wiggling it looser and looser until my wrists are free. I move to my feet and undo the bind then I’m up walking around the cage trying to figure out how they got him in here. I can’t find a door.
“There’s no door.”
“I know. I don’t know how they did it either. I can’t figure it out. Go get help.”
“I am not leaving you here. Besides, I have no idea where we are.”
I begin pacing back and forth trying to figure out what to do. Signal somebody. Start a fire? I glance over to their fire. Make it bigger? No. I feel down in my pocket and my phone is missing. “Did they take your phone too?” I ask.
“It’s back at where I’m camping. I didn’t have no signal service so I figured why carry it and risk losing it.”
“We have to figure out how to get out of here.”
“I’d like to figure out how to get out of this cage,” he says calmly.
I don’t know if it’s the extreme stress or complete hysteria but laugh bubbles out of me. The way he said it, calm and matter of fact. I walk back over to him and begin scraping around the bottom with my hands. “There has to be a lock somewhere,” I tell him but it’s hard to see in the dim lighting around the bottom of the cage.
If they could track our phones they’d know where we are, but they wouldn’t know we were in trouble. A glimmer of a thought pops into my head and I try to get it back as I continue to swipe away dirt and leaves. GPS. My head shoots up and I look at Corky. “Didn’t you GPS some of the cats?”
“Yes, that’s how I came to be all the way out here.”
“So, you found them?”
“The cats?”
I slap my forehead in exasperation. “No, the psycho people.”
“I was following a trail and I found them in the woods but I’m willing to bet my camp ain’t far from where we are now.”
“So, they can track the GPS and find us?”
“No, it don’t work that way. I had my little computer and it was going off the path of the cat from day before yesterday. No service, no en-ternet way out here. I was just following it to see where the old girl went missing. Her path just ended...”
Yeah, it ended here. “But they can use the same thing you did to see what path you took. Right?”
His shoulders slump and he shakes his head. “I brought it with me.”
“You brought it with you?” I say aloud feeling absolutely defeated.
“I’m sorry, Willer.”
I start around the third side and find hinges. Hinges… hinges mean it opens on the bottom? How can it open on the bottom? The cage is upside down. I jump up to race back to the first side I started on.
“Watch out!” Corky bellows.
I fall to the ground like I decided to do a pushup in the middle of the forest. Where the fuck did they come from? I feel the wind and the whooshing sound from the staff as it swoops by me barely missing me again. I kick back connecting my boot with a shin and I hear a female yelp. I know it’s the old woman. I roll over to my back and kick up as hard as I can, hitting her in her stomach causing her to stumble back. Her feet fly in the air. The sick bitch is wearing some sort of animal hide on her feet. I leap over, crawling on top of her as she flails her arms and her legs around screaming. It’s like holding onto a bucking bull. She maybe old but she’s tough and pretty damn strong. She rakes her fingernails down my arms taking skin with her and I punch her in the nose and I do it again and again until she doesn’t move anymore.
I sit on her straddling her trying to catch my breath. “Tie her up,” Corky orders from his cage beside me.
I have to feel around on the ground to find the leather they used to bind me. The brown leather on the ground at night and our fight moved them from where I remembered taking them off. It takes me a few moments to locate them. I get her wrists tied and then shove the rabbit hide in her mouth fur side down. It’s wrong but at this moment I don’t give two fucks. The crazy psycho deserves it.
“Willer!”
I roll over to get out of the way. I could hear the panic in Corky’s voice. Danger has presented itself again. I didn’t move far enough fast enough. The tall man comes running into the camp or whatever the hell you call this place, charging me. I throw up my arm protecting myself and scream out in pain as I feel something slice through my forearm. Blood spurts out and he howls, beating himself on the chest. I scoot back, grabbing the ground with my hands and feet for leverage. He stalks toward me. I look around trying to find something to defend myself. There’s nothing. I get to my feet and back right up to a tree. The man wraps his hand around my throat and lifts me into the air. I can’t breathe. I gasp trying to get oxygen in my lungs, and it won’t come. I reach out, scratching his face pulling his hair, anything I can to get him to let me go. My fist punching doesn’t seem to affect him. I see a lantern hanging off the branch. I reach over trying to pull it loose. It won’t come. I wrap my fingers on the handle and give it a big yank. It moves an inch. He pulls me forward and slams me against the tree. I know this is it. Thirty more seconds of this and I’m dead. I grab the lantern. I can hear Corky screaming but I can’t make out what he’s saying. My heartbeat is drumming in my ears. I use fingers on my free hand to poke him in the eyes and scratch them downward. He lets out a roar. His grip loosens, releasing me. I fall to the ground and the oil lamp comes with me. I take a big gulp of air coughing and gagging. My eyes feel like they’re about to pop out of my head. He stands and I know this is it. He’s going to kill me. I sling the lantern as hard as I can at him and jump in the opposite direction falling face first onto the ground, then I crawl away.
A bright light lights the forest up like it’s daytime as the lantern explodes against him and he is engulfed into a ball of f
lames. The screams and the smell of burning flesh are horrific. I think I should be shocked that I just set a man on fire but I’m not. I’m thankful I was able to get myself out of the way. I’m thankful I’m alive. I’m thankful he’s dead and we’re not. My plan was to bash him in the head with the lantern, but this way worked out better.
I roll over and lie on my back when I see a light above me. I keep taking deep breaths of air. Corky is still yelling at me. I wish he’d just shut up. It’s a flashlight. No, it’s a bigger than a flashlight. The sound of the helicopter finally registers and I begin to weep. We’ve been saved. I don’t know how they found us or how they knew where to look but they found us. I lie in wait and watch the trees sway overhead. Why aren’t they landing yet? Can they not see me? Can they not see us? Joe? Where is Joe? I use the last bit of strength I have left to push up. My arm sends pain throughout my body as it rubs against the dirt on the ground as I try to get up. I can’t stop. I have to find Joe.
I open my eyes and someone is standing over me. Why are they so close to my face? Did I go to sleep? “Willow. Can you hear me?” I close my eyes then open them again. "…altered mental. Patient has contusions noted on the neck in a strangulation pattern with strained speech noted with multiple contusions and abrasions secondary to an assault with a laceration noted to the arm,” the lady with long brown curly hair says into a radio as she kneels beside me. I wince when I feel a pinch at my arm. “Willow, can you tell me what happened?”
I hear my name over and over and they keep asking me questions I don’t want to answer. All I want to do is sleep.
****
A beeping sound wakes me up then I hear a voice I don’t recognize, “Nurse’s station.”
“The machine is beeping again,” I hear Heath say. I open my eyes and try to turn my head but I’m too sore to move. He smiles at me and within a few seconds tears are in his eyes. “Hey you, welcome back.” I open my mouth to speak but only a croak comes out. “Hold on just a second.” He picks up a small paper cup off the tray and with a long tipped cotton swab moistens my lips. I raise my left arm to push the thing way but only a finger moves. I’m thirsty. I want water. I try to tell him that but nothing comes out.
****
Heath is standing, leaning against the wall talking to somebody. I lift my arm again and this time my hand moves. “She’s awake,” he rushes to my side. “Look, Willow, the Chief came by to see you.” The only thing that moves are my eyes. I look down at the end of the bed but I don’t see anybody.
****
I look around and can’t see or hear anybody. I’m by myself. I need to ask somebody about Joe. I move my left arm over and it actually moves. I use my fingers to try to press the button. My legs begin to rise and it hurts. My finger instinctively jerks away. Heath’s head pops up on the side from somewhere down below on my left side and looks over at me. His hair is a mess and he’s tired, I woke him up but it doesn’t stop him smiling his goofy ass smile. “Trying to go somewhere?” he asks and I frown making him laugh out loud. “Do you want to try to sit up a little?” I nod my head. He raises me a few inches and I groan. I open and close my mouth several times because it’s dry.
“Are you thirsty?”
I nod.
“Here,” he says and it feels like an eternity as I wait for him to get a cup and add some ice to it out of a little bucket. Then he pops the top on a Sprite pouring it over the ice. He looks around like doesn’t know who to give the drink to. I find myself becoming annoyed and if I could talk I’d tell him to hurry the fuck up. He looks at me funny and says, “I’ll be right back,” and runs out of the room.
I’m stuck lying here staring at a cup directly in front of me on a tray that I want really, really badly and it’s out of reach. He’s back in a second and he’s smiling at me and waves something in his hand that I can’t quite make out. When he drops it down into the cup I know he went to get me a straw. Guilt at my impatience settles over me. He knew I needed a straw.
I try to say, “Thank you,” but only a slight sound comes out but I manage to mouth it.
I know he knows what I said when his smart ass says, “Whatever drug they’re giving you, you’re going to start taking it on a daily basis.”
If I wasn’t already aware of how bad it hurts to move I’d try to hit him. He moves the straw to my lips. It feels wonderful to my mouth, cold, wet and the carbonation sizzles. Then it burns like fire going down my throat. I wince and he pulls it away. “That enough? You want more?”
I nod my head as I try to reach up to grab my throat. He asks, “Which one is it? You want more or is that enough?”
I frown and I know he’s doing it on purpose. “More,” I’m able to voice though I sound like a hoarse frog.
I drink a few more sips and he sits the cup down. “They say if all the tests come back fine and you eat something tomorrow and keep it down you can go home day after tomorrow.”
That’s relief to my mind. I try to move my right arm but it feels weighted down. I look down and can see that it’s wrapped. Heaths follows my eyes to where I’m looking. “He cut you pretty deep. It’s pretty gnarly looking. They said you might need physical therapy. Muscle damage.” I wiggle my fingers and they all move but it’s very tender. “I know one person who’ll be glad to see you.” I cut my eyes over to him and I’m praying he doesn’t say something stupid like Stacey or Wade or anybody else that I don’t like or doesn’t like me at the moment.
He’s waiting for me to respond like he’s making it his personal mission to make me speak. “Who?”
“Joe.”
I stare at him a minute waiting to hear something else like, Joe would be but he’s dead or Joe, just kidding. Who am I kidding? Heath wouldn’t do that to me. My heart falls to my stomach like I’ve been punched and tears hit my eyes.
“He’s alive?” I ask and my voice fails me again.
Heath stands over me concerned looking at me as tears of happiness stream down my face.
“Willow, what’s wrong? Are you hurting?” He looks up and down my body.
I try to clear my throat then ask again with force to make sure sound comes with my voice just to make sure I didn’t dream it. “He’s alive?”
“Joe? Yes he’s alive.” He looks at me like I’ve been hit in the head too hard. I can’t help my sobbing cries with each breath. My stomach aches and my throat burns but I don’t care and I can’t help it. “You thought he was dead?” he asks confused.
I nod and Heath reaches over the bed to hug my head to him. “Oh, Willow, you thought he was dead? Did they hurt him?” I nod my ear rubs against his chest as I do. “That explains how he got hurt. That’s really the only part of the puzzle we weren’t sure about. He’s the reason we knew you were in trouble. When he showed back up to the Wright’s house she knew something was wrong so she called the police and it all unfolded from there. Everybody was looking for you. The Chief sent the helicopter up and you don’t know how big of deal that is anymore. He catches so much shit from city council members saying it’s a waste of fuel.” He’s blabbering on and on and it’s not that I don’t care what he’s saying. Joe’s alive and he saved my life. It’s the best news I’ve heard all year. Joe is alive.
“Where is he?”
“What?”
If I could grab him by the shirt and shake him I would. “Where is he?”
“At the vet’s, he got back to the Wright’s and they called the police. He had a seizure, though, but he’s all right. The last time I talked to the vet she said he hadn’t had anymore. They took him by ambulance to the vet. I’m not sure how they’re going to bill that one.” Heath laughs. I feel like my brain is overloaded. I try to ask him about the seizure but I’m so tired. My throat hurts and now my face is wet from crying and I can’t move my arm to wipe it but in this moment as terrible as I feel I realize it’s not so bad. I’ll heal and I have my Joe. I have Heath. Life is pretty damn good at the moment. Heath is still talking but I’m too tired to listen. I clos
e my eyes and breathe deep. My body maybe broken at this moment but my heart isn’t anymore.
****
I feel like a robot with a check list of things to be completed so I can get out of this damn hospital. I’ve eaten wonderfully prepared low sodium chicken broth and kept it down. I’ve gotten up and walked up and down the halls four times and I have to do it one more time this morning before I’ll be released. I’ve had to pee in a bucket in the bathroom for some other test they thought I needed. I’m thankful they only have a mirror for your face in the bathroom. My throat looks pretty bad and it’s crazy that I can make out where his hand and fingers wrapped around me.
I’ve learned how to change the dressing on my arm and Heath was nice when he said it was gnarly. It’s downright disgusting and the stitches hurt like a bitch. I’ve had to rate my pain every time a nurse comes in and I asked yesterday not to be given any more of the strong pain medicine. It knocks me out and I don’t want to sleep any more. I’m tired of sleeping and I’m ready to see my dog.
I’ve had numerous visitors, most of which I really rather they had waited until I was out of the hospital to visit. Heath said Wade came and stayed a little while which I’m glad I slept through. I’m no longer ready to have that talk with him. At least not right now anyway. The Chief and his wife came which I remember the chief being here but not Jackie. I should have known she was here when I saw the large box of oatmeal cream pies sitting amongst the flowers and balloons.
The Wrights came and she looked like a wreck. Jon stayed tucked in a corner doing everything in his power for attention not to be directed his way. I tried to tell her I really was okay but my bruises are a lot to take in and she feels responsible for sending me out there. But it wasn’t her fault. She tried to give me money but I told her to donate it to the police department helicopter fund and if there wasn’t one there then one needed to be established. Anybody that’s in need of being rescued and the helicopter helps expedite the search should not have to worry whether somebody behind a desk thinks they’ve already spent their quota on fuel for the year. I’ll make a donation myself once I get out of this damn place for good.