“Green” Eli yelled as the light turned.
Maggie stalled at the light, oblivious as to where she was going.
“Go momma,” Eli urged.
Maggie tore through the light heading toward the compound. Was that him? She couldn’t follow the man as he walked away from town, which was crazy. No one walked down the mountain, there was nothing for eight miles.
She did her breathing exercises and calmed down. This was not the first time she thought she spotted Jack. Just before Christmas last year a wave of fear and panic and swept over her as she rounded the aisle at the Franklin Country Store. She looked around but saw no one. Still she recognized the feeling; it was her long lost friend, who once guarded her. She brushed her hair back and pushed the cart along.
The row of ornaments had boxes of bulbs, red bows, candy canes, and garland everything a country store would have, as it masqueraded as a holiday super center.
“None of this is appealing,” she mumbled as she tossed a box back onto the shelf.
Then a pale man with rough skin walked up to the counter. He cupped his hands over his mouth, and blew. “Is there a restroom in here?”
Maggie whipped around. She knew that voice. She bent down, her eyes glued to the man as he sailed toward the back of the store. She headed for the door without impulse. With her keys in hand she bolted to her car and locked the door. Peeling out she headed into traffic, she doubted Jack saw her.
Maggie turned into the police station and left her car running. She used her limited data plan to pull up the prison where Jack was serving time. She was so nervous she couldn’t type in his inmate number. Ever since then, she let the attorney handle it.
She was not going to embarrass herself by barging into the police station. She needed to let them do their job. Besides, she had no proof it was Jack. Even if it was, she needed to remember who she as dealing with. He’d be one step ahead of them at all times.
Eli hopped out of the car and ran to the kennels. “Wait for me,” Maggie yelled as panic filled her. While this was the last place she suspected Jack to show up, Maggie was on high alert.
The place was desolate. Some dogs were barking, others standing still, watching Maggie approach. All of the dogs were trained to protect children, so she didn’t worry. It was important for her to approach the kennels slowly, incase there was a new boarder.
Maggie walked into the house, and surveyed the mess. If she didn’t get back to work soon, the whole living room would be piled to the ceiling with papers and junk.
When Maggie walked out back to the pens, she noticed Klaus’ van was missing. She scribbled a note and stuck it on the refrigerator, asking him to come assess Vala. She left her address.
Inside that small fridge was 55 pounds of elk meat, it’s what he used to feed the dogs; nothing but the best. That reminded her, she should cook for Vala when she got home. There was no excuse to not spoil her secret weapon. She wanted the dog in the best possible shape, just in case danger came to the door.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
Maggie was doing laundry when Klaus arrived. Vala went to the door before she even heard him shut the car door.
She put down the pile of unsorted clothes and invited him in.
Vala seemed to remember her trainer and show him some affection. She rested her snout on his leg as they sat down to talk about her ordeal. Klaus gave her the once over and assured Maggie. “Don’t worry about the dog. You are safe. That was my guarantee.”
She was proud of her work at the kennel and she sold the training to buyers worldwide, so why was she doubting it now? “But how will she know who is an intruder and who is not?”
He sat back. “Dogs are more intelligent than people. They use senses we have not developed. For one, they can sense things that humans overlook. They can detect heart rate, motives, intentions, fear, danger, and adrenaline. They themselves are like robots, computing all the data we overlook. That’s the power of the training.”
“But what if he poisons her?” Maggie asked trying to hide her panic.
“Can’t happen.”
“Because she was trained?”
“Yes, but it’s because I bred the curiosity out of her. She responds to performance, not reward. She doesn’t see you as her master, but as her pup. You need her protection.”
Maggie was beginning to understand. It was like her and Eli. A mother will protect at all costs.
“If an intruder breaks in, she will respond. She will know they are coming before you ever hear a sound. She can smell it, hear it and will prepare.”
“What if something happens to my son?”
“If Vala is present, when your son is in danger, she will eliminate the danger.”
“What if she gets shot?”
“The dog will think on its own. Unless a bullet renders her incapable, she will proceed with eliminating the threats, regardless of her pain.”
“Jack is not a common criminal. I think I could handle that. I’m afraid he will know she’s here and find a way around her.”
“There’s no way around these dogs, unless they are not present when your paths cross.”
Ben returned to the house with food. Maggie was growing fond of the man who made her feel safe and could cook. What a reprieve from being a single mom all these years. With a full belly and reassurance from Klaus, Maggie went to bed, early. She had left a message for Dr. Gibbons, and knew she could use a group session at the shelter. But going there scared her. What if Jack followed her? What if she put everyone in danger?
That night Maggie dreamt about Jack finding her. She was in the woods again, the gunman fired his shots. Maggie picked herself up off the ground and started running. This time she saw a white lump among the fallen pine needs and wet ground. It was Vala.
She slumped over the dying dog. She’d been shot in the shoulder and a pool of blood collected around the wound. The dog breathed slowly and her eyes narrowed.
“Miss me my darling?” Jack said mockingly.
Her head spun around. Maggie recognized the voice. “What do you want, Jack?”
“I don’t want anything Maggie, except what you took from me.”
She wasn’t afraid. She knew the words. She knew how to control her voice and her body movements. She didn’t show any outward signs of fear.
“I won’t let you have him. You can’t take our son.”
Jack roared in laughter. “I don’t care about that bastard. I doubt the rascal is even mine.”
Maggie stayed strong. “He is yours Jack. You have a son. Remember that.”
Jack spit on her and walked around the dog. “You are foolish to think this animal can protect you. No one can protect you Maggie. I’ll be coming back for ya.”
The wind was howling as Maggie stretched. Her eyes popped open as the relentless tick of a branch tapped the railing of Eli’s porch. She been terrified that Eli would get out of the house without her knowing, but so far he’d been safe.
Vala rolled to her side as Maggie snuck out of bed. Sleep had always been a privilege. Jack woke up often, sometimes in a trance. He rarely knew who Maggie was when she came to bed. And with this temper and martial arts training, Maggie was on edge every time she opened the bedroom door.
She swore it was ten degrees cooler in that room, probably more. Whatever the hell was wrong with Jack she could feel it in the air. Perhaps that’s what led her to sleep on the couch when she came home one night. Jack had let her take Eli out to a church performance, when she came home he was out, doing God knows what. By the time she put Eli to bed, the floor rumbled below. Her throat tightened and she listened to the garage door open. Perhaps if she closed her eyes and pretended to be asleep, the night would end well.
Maggie fell asleep beside her precious child. She replayed the message she heard on Christian radio on her way home. The preacher was talking about the peace of God and other promises he afforded those who believed in Him. She held onto those promises, they had to apply to her. So why wer
en’t they working? Why was Jack so crazy?
She played Christian music in the house when he was not home, hoping to set a calm, peaceful atmosphere when he arrived. But the music only seemed to agitate him. Maggie refused to give up.
Maggie heard the door knob click as Jack looked in on his son. She laid still, hoping he would leave her alone. His footsteps pressed lightly into the carpet as he entered the room. Maggie held her eyes shut. Her side of the bed seemed to move, and she pretended to stir.
Then she felt Jack’s hand grab her wrist. She opened both eyes and saw his silhouette above her. He removed her from the bed and followed her into the hall. It was there that Maggie saw his shirtless body. Jack motioned her to their bedroom. She asked politely, “I’m not going to bed am I?”
His response was simply, “No!”
After that he kept forcing himself on her at random times. Maggie felt strange and dirty. So when Easter rolled around, she made plans to attend church. Going there alone was not something she was ready for but she needed to go.
She had calmly told Jack the night before that she was taking Eli to an Easter egg hunt at a local church. She bought some dress clothes at a consignment store, so Jack wouldn’t fuss over the cost. But when she went to look for the keys, Jack looked up with raised his eyebrows. He said nothing.
“We’ll be back in about an hour and a half,” she said, heading to the door.
Jack sipped his coffee, and watched her. “I didn’t say you could go anywhere.”
Maggie shrieked. “I mentioned it last night.”
He bolted up out of his chair and hurled it to the floor. “I don’t recall you asking me anything. And I don’t want some wanna be preacher brainwashing my son.”
She held onto her sweet boy and stood her ground. “I think it would be good for Eli to have a spiritual base.”
Jack smirked— which always frightened her. It was his warped ideas of how to connect with God that truly scared her. But that was something she kept quiet. Even now.
She did go to church that day. Ironically the pastor did not preach the Easter message she had hoped to hear. Instead he quoted scripture after scripture that said God was watching over her. What a relief. She assumed that by hearing the message God would step in and stop the violence. She imagined a future when Jack came to church and together they raised their little boy. She knew God could give them a new start, and a new life.
She projected peace and serenity, laugher and joy. She fantasized about happy times.
Her disillusion followed her home. She even went forward for prayer and told them about the situation. The pastor who prayed with her, seemed sure that prayer would fix her husband and she needed to be patient, non judgmental and of course, keep coming back to church.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
The tea kettle whistled as Maggie focused her thoughts. Her flashbacks had been escalating. She had to get to that support group; before things got out of hand. Monitoring her own thoughts was something Maggie had not mastered. The group would help.
The ladies met in private at a local home, which housed 31 women and children. To her surprise the shelter was rarely full. The time it takes for a victim to succumb to reality and do something about it, can take months, if not years. Actually leaving the abuse and seeking housing, well, for the ones who make it, that decision takes years. Maggie was no exception.
The first time she got up the nerve to attend the meeting, she drove up and down the street three times, before finally pulling into the lot. Her advocate had called, leaving a message. It said, “Are you ready to take control over your life?”
Maggie wanted to be coaxed into going. It’s why she listened to the message. But she still had to decide. What could it hurt, if she didn’t like it, she did not have to return. And not going in was only prolonging the obvious.
Here she was a years later, needing more help. There was no shame in that. She would be careful with what she shared as to not alert anybody. And right now in Maggie’s world these were the only people in the world who could understand.
The meeting opened with introductions and a citation of the serenity prayer. Everyone stood in a circle holding hands. Maggie recalled the familiar jitters that were apparent on her first visit. She didn’t know what to expect. Today was the same. She was back in crisis mode. The ladies were there to listen and lend support. They were not allowed to offer advice but rather follow the rules of the program and shelter. The number of women who went through the program and later reconciled with their abuser was high. Maggie refused to be in the crowd. Jack didn’t actually want her back, what he wanted was to get even.
Maggie listened to the guidelines and introductions. Other than giving her name and number of children, she planned on staying quiet. She gained a lot by listening to other moms and found it hard enough to sit still and not let her thoughts roam. She made it this far, now she just needed to keep going.
The group took a quick break, and she called Ben. “How’s everything, how’s Eli?”
“He’s great. He wants to go to the firehouse, they are having a demonstration today.”
“Sounds good.” She stared up at the mountain. “You guys are so far away.”
“We can wait till you get back, if you want.”
“No, take him now. It’s more of a guy thing.”
Ben chuckled. “Text us when you are done. Stay sharp.”
“I will.”
His voice made her well up in tears. She wasn’t sure things would work out with Ben but still, she was so thankful for the time he spent with her son. It made a mother proud to know that someone else thought he was special and loved him.
When the meeting resumed Maggie’s mind strayed. The emotion and denial of the newcomers picked at her conscience. Some of the ladies were still living with their abusers, others had left and found the same relationship waiting for them, just a new name and new location. Maggie hated that about the group. She wanted finality. She had hired a lawyer and emptied her savings trying to stay safe. She took it seriously. But the minute her mind began to wander, she couldn’t pull it back in.
One of the newcomers spoke about her boyfriend, a local cop. Maggie tried not to smile; she knew where this was heading. Just as she suspected, the jerk cleaned his guns in front of her, took her to the shooting range, drank and used his gun during sex, slept with his weapon loaded on the nightstand. It was casebook.
At the time when Jack first placed a weapon on her, he had used an excuse that made sense to her. Maggie had been reading a book on marriage that suggested a woman get involved in her husband’s favorite activity.
That’s when things changed quickly.
Jack received a delivery from UPS at 10:35a.m. He called out of work that day and was outside trimming the bushes with a machete when the driver pulled up. Maggie saw him bring in a box big enough for a flat screen TV.
She wondered what it was.
Jack tore open the cardboard container and revealed his newest fascination. Maggie stared at him as he held the leather breastplate up to his chest. “What is that?” she asked incredulously.
“Armor.”
“Armor?”
“It’s for sword fighting.”
Her mind blanked. “Who buys armor for sword fighting? Who even makes it? Who makes the swords?”
But it was all there, in a box. She called the bank immediately and found out how much the armor cost. She hung up in utter disbelief. How could he do this? They didn’t have that kind of money to spend. He must have taken it out of the baby’s savings account.
Rather than confront him, while he learned to maneuver this new weapon, Maggie watched as he worked out. Jack was not a novice. She found out that he had trained in this medieval art as a teenager. The practice was back. While it scared her, she took the advice of the marriage professional and she asked Jack about his new hobby. Her hope was to rekindle their relationship. She was sure that if they fell back in love, his anger would subside and thing
s would be good. However, Jack had a different idea.
One afternoon when she came home from church, he sat at the kitchen table oiling the blade on his steel sword. It was a new one, made of Israeli steel. Jack told Maggie to put the baby to bed and meet him on the porch.
She had not put the two together until it was too late. When she left the nursery, Jack was suited up, and ready to battle. He explained that he was in need of a training partner— and he wished her to fill in for him.
When she asked why, he said it was because she was the right height.
Maggie kept her reservations quiet. She stood off center from what he called the down strike, a motion that would severe the shoulder. He practiced his angle and took some trial swings. Without regard to her body language, Jack made his stance and then unleashed a series of moves that rivaled a Hollywood stuntman.
He called out each strike as she stood there as his test dummy. One wrong move, one flinch and he could cut her. Her nerves tingled as she closed her eyes. She listened to his voice, void of emotion or care. A tear rolled off her cheek. As she wiped it, she tuned back in to the newcomer who was living with the renegade cop. She wanted to tell her to run, and not look back.
The walk down memory lane further convinced her that she needed these women. Who else could help her see the danger she was in, and how normal it became for her. She could have been beheaded, and this was not ISIS.
An older lady was speaking when Maggie refocused on the group. “I’m a survivor of domestic abuse and I have two girls. When I was 28 years old, I arrived home from work to find utter chaos, again inside my suburban home. My out of work husband would drink all day and our children were home while this happened. The oldest rode the bus to school but frequently walked home with a friend, if her father forgot to pick her up from the bus stop.”
She went on, “The house was a giant mess, with garbage all over the floor and pile of clothes high enough to tip over. I ran over to see the kids but they weren’t in the living room. That’s when I heard the faint cries of both my darlings, coming from the bathroom. There they sat, naked in the bathtub, the water was freezing cold.”
Every Last Breath Page 13