by Brian Hodge
Working alone was nice. I wondered why I’d never thought to get a job where you could work with no other people around. Maybe something with a secretary. I’d always wanted to have a secretary.
I had to … um … relieve myself a couple of times before I could get back to work. All that thought of locking up a girl in my heavenly cell was too much. I couldn’t take it. It was gonna be the best thing that ever happened in my whole life. I couldn’t get over what a fine plan it was.
It only look me a week to make the frames for the walls. I screwed them together with L-joints, making sure the roof would be nice and level. I debated giving my Angel a small window, but decided in the end that she couldn’t be trusted. How easy would it be to break it and run away sometime, while I was out looking for a job to support her and buy her nice things? Girls can be treacherous, that’s for sure. She’d be worth every bit of planning I did for her. In the end, I decided to cut out a couple of six-inch holes near where the ceiling would be. Then some light could get in, but she couldn’t get through it. All part of my genius plan.
The floor was made of two-by-fours as well. I put up plywood, then drywall on the inside, all insulated with that itchy pink stuff they have at the home-goods store. It would keep my Angel nice and warm, and quiet. And I put a tin sheet over the roof so it wouldn’t leak. I thought of everything, just for her. How could she not be impressed with that?
Even Elise would have to admit what a good job I’d done on this place, once I brought her here. It was a definite plan now. I could hold her for a couple days, and then get rid of her. I mean, look at the way she’d treated me. Walking out on our engagement knowing full well what a fragile state I was in—what with Dami dying and me losing my job and everything. I was lucky I didn’t marry her, just to have her leave me and try to take all my money when things got rough. Women were all the same in the end.
That’s probably why young girls are better than grown-up women. Girls haven’t developed that evilness that makes women how they are. They haven’t learned treachery and lies, and how to milk men for all they’re worth just by having sex with them. But they can still make the Red come. I don’t know how they do it. Maybe they don’t mean to … but it’s so dangerous. You’d think they’d do everything possible to get control of it.
I phoned Elise the day I finished the escape-proof room. I was sure it was escape-proof since I’d tried to bust out. The walls were solid, and the door bolted tight with two deadbolt locks I’d installed. I’m quite the handyman, it turns out. Bob Vila would be proud of me.
I told Elise I needed to talk to her and to please meet me at the Olive Garden. She loves Olive Garden. I remembered taking her there and wondering why they didn’t have some kind of Italian cheeseburger. The Italians must have mastered the art of mixing beef with cheese and bread by now. No dice though. I had to get noodles with cheese sauce and meatballs. It was pretty good, or would have been if it hadn’t cost twelve dollars. Burgers are cheaper and taste better. As long as I lived, I’d never understand the point of Olive Garden.
She listened quietly over the phone long after I was done talking. I said, “Hello?” a few times just to see if she was still there. I could hear her breathing, so I knew she was. Why was she fucking with me? Bitch. Finally she said something I should have expected.
“Michael, did you murder your ex-wife?”
“What? What the hell kind of—” She hung up on me before I could even finish. She really thought I’d killed Dami. God knows what else she must have thought. She could tell anyone anything. I thought about how funny she was going to look locked up in that tiny, Angel-sized room. I had to laugh, which was nice. I hadn’t had much to laugh at recently.
On Thursdays Elise worked alone, closing up the bookstore. There’d be no chance of being seen if I went to pick her up. If she didn’t want to come with me, I’d likely be able to just … you know … grab her.
It was a disturbing thought, grabbing up a woman who might not want to come with me. It was necessary, though. How else was I gonna test out the room for my Angel? It was a genius plan. Like all genius plans, it wouldn’t be without its casualties.
Chapter Forty-Seven
(Chandra)
A Guilty Mind
“Oh, my stars! Get in here, you two! I’ve been so worried; where have you been? The police were here, saying they couldn’t find either of you. I was so fright—” Grandmother scolded us for leaving the house alone, for not coming to her at once, for not telling the police where we were. She had obviously been crying. I waited for her to stop for a moment so I could say something. Durga was not so polite.
“We had to run from the police. Chandra killed Mother.” I gasped out loud at her hate-filled words. Would Grandmother feel the same hatred my sister now draped over me like a blanket of shame?
“What?” Grandmother gripped my sister and turned her around, staring into her eyes. Durga said nothing else. “How did this … happen?” Grandmother asked me.
“I went to that Villain’s house. I heard him upstairs and—oh dammit. I wanted to hurt him, kill him. He was an evil man. He followed me and Durga; he said awful things to us. He stalked us and—” The more I tried to defend my actions, the more ludicrous and extreme they sounded. There must have been a hundred other ways I could have gotten my point across, ways that wouldn’t have ended with Mother dead.
“You wanted to murder your stepfather, but your poor mother died instead?” Instead? Grandmother goggled at me. I waited for her to open the front door and gesture me out. I would have deserved it. I’d never felt as horrible as I did at that moment. Poor Grandmother. Sometimes it was hard to remember that she was our mother’s mother, that she had raised her the way Mother raised us.
“The thing to do now is to decide what to do next,” Grandmother told us both, as her voice broke slightly. She occasionally dabbed tears from her eyes. She asked us again why we hadn’t come to her first.
“We have to begin the antyeshti before dawn,” Durga said abruptly. Grandmother put a reassuring hand on my sister’s shoulder. It appeared we would engage in the ritual. I can’t express strongly enough how much I wanted to avoid it. It was going to be just awful.
“I’m sorry, Grandmother,” I told her sincerely. “It was my doing. The police were coming, and I didn’t want them to take her away.” I motioned to Durga, who was staring daggers into me from the sofa.
“Take her away? They couldn’t. I’m your legal next of kin.” That may have been true. But we were, as The Villain was so fond of reminding us, foreigners. Dot-heads he called us. They could deport us without a parent here, or they could put Durga in foster care if Grandmother were considered unfit in some way. There was just no telling what could have happened.
“Oh, stop it!” Durga said, “You weren’t trying to help me; you were trying to get away. You just didn’t want anyone to know it was YOU who set that fire!” Her accusation pierced me through the heart. Durga used to admire me, borrow my things, follow me around. Now she could barely look at me. And who could blame her?
Grandmother held my hand. She assured me she could pay for a lawyer. We would call for one in the morning who would tell us what to do. I wept, so full of undeserved gratitude. She was going to help me, even after what I’d done. And she would keep Durga safe. Why hadn’t I just come to Grandmother in the first place?
“It was a mistake. A horrible mistake. Souls are not doomed for mistakes. You can make offerings to—” I appreciated her mercy, her loyalty to me. I couldn’t stand the religion.
“Should I tell the lawyer what I did? The law says I can tell my lawyer anything, but he’s not allowed to lie. If I tell him I did something illegal, doesn’t he have to—” I stopped myself. I didn’t really know what I was talking about. Everything I knew about the law I learned by watching lawyer shows on TV. I was figuring out the rest of my life based on what the cast of Law & Order might have done.
“I think it’s okay to tell the lawyer that yo
u started the fire. But I wouldn’t tell him you intended to kill someone.” That sounded very reasonable, “Especially since the … intended target is still alive. As you said, he’s not very stable.”
“Wait, what?” Alive? How could that be? Dammit. Dammit. Dammit! Tears sprang up at once. I hadn’t saved anyone, not Mother, not Durga, not even myself. Everyone was in danger the longer that Villain was alive. How could the universe let him live, while Mother is—
“I want you to put this out of your mind for now,” Grandmother said kindly, as if such a thing were possible.
The emotion of the day sapped every last drop of energy from what remained of my family. I wanted to talk to Durga, assure her that I hadn’t meant for any of this to happen. She was sleeping. I marveled at her ability to fall asleep in the midst of tragedy. When Father was murdered she slept for three days. For me, sleep would not come. I began to understand why Mother took those pills after all. I rolled over again, completely impatient with my body’s unwillingness to follow simple instructions. Sleep, just go to sleep. I wanted to calm down, find a way to stop thinking. All I could see was Mother. I didn’t deserve sleep, or respite. After what I’d done, I deserved to feel every ounce of shame, guilt, any obstacle the gods choose to inflict upon me.
Chapter Forty-Eight
(Mikey)
The Taking of Elise
I’d been waiting outside the damn bookstore for the better part of an hour. What could she be doing in there all this time? All I had to do was snatch her up and get her to the place. This was just like being on a stakeout, sitting there watching and waiting for Elise to come out. I felt just like the detectives on TV.
The chloroform was on the seat next to me. I knew I’d better have it ready in case I couldn’t convince her to get in. She’d sounded scared of me on the phone, or pissed off. I could never tell which with women, especially her.
You know what I wondered? How come a guy could just go into a medical supply and buy chloroform? Obviously my motives were pure here, but the people at the store didn’t know that. I could have been any kind of lunatic, looking to commit nefarious acts. Chloroform is totally dangerous. I’d only seen it used for one thing: kidnapping. I didn’t even know if it had another use. It must, or they wouldn’t sell it at the medical supply place.
There has to be something wrong with a world that would allow a regular citizen to buy stuff specifically designed to kidnap girls. I’m pretty good at logic and stuff, and that makes no sense to me.
And the handcuffs? They had them at a pawnshop for Chrissake. I felt like fate wanted me to do what I was doing. That’s why I had enough cash on me to buy them on the spot. Fate was on my side for once. Why else would I have found a handgun under the upstairs bed? Everything was finally coming together for me.
I had a small handgun, a pair of handcuffs, tape, chloroform and a washcloth to put the stuff on. I’d never used chloroform before. I only knew it worked because I’d tried smelling it. I woke up on the kitchen floor. I wish I’d known that was going to happen; I would have timed myself.
Elise finally came out holding something I recognized as a bank bag. It had the deposit for the day’s sales at the bookstore. I hadn’t really thought of it, but that extra cash would come in handy. Building a place for my Angel set me back more than I expected.
“Hi,” I said, almost running up to her. I shouldn’t have done that. Running up to people makes them scared, I’d been told. Her eyes got wide for a minute. Then she recognized me and rolled her eyes.
“What do you want?” She said it all mean-like, like she didn’t even want to see me. After all we’d meant to each other, she didn’t even want to talk to me for a second. That’s what I mean about her; she was a treacherous bitch if ever I’d known one—and I had.
“I need you to get in. I need to talk to you, seriously. Can we just drive around for a bit?” I said it very sweet and nice, almost pleading with her. After all, it was pretty important to get her in the car without making a scene. Looking around, I could see a homeless-looking man slugging on something from a brown paper bag. He’d never remember me. Anyone might have robbed and killed a woman carrying the night deposit for a store—any store. Besides, I had a genius idea that would make sure no one would ever find her.
She was thinking hard, I could tell. She was looking from me to the bank bag and said just what I expected her to.
“I can’t. I have to take the deposit to the bank.” Since I was expecting it, I had a good answer ready.
“I’ll drive you to the bank and then back here to get your car. How’s that sound?” She looked at me suspiciously, scrunching her face up and making it look all ugly. “Please come with me, Dami, I mean, Elise.” I blew it. I know I did. Fuck!
She turns to get into her car and I just sort of grab her. She struggles and squeals as I push the washcloth full of chloroform onto her nose and mouth. It shuts her up and in a few seconds that seem like forever, she goes limp in my arms. God damn, she’s heavy. My Angel would be much easier to carry than this. I pull my ex-fiancée around to the passenger seat, wishing I’d planned this better. The drunk with the bottle is nowhere to be seen, thank goodness.
I buckle her seatbelt and proceed to drive down the road to the woods near the vacation house. It’s a pretty far drive, almost three hours from where we are, and I realize I have no idea how long the chloroform will keep her out. Because I’m so smart, I cuffed her with the handcuffs I brought for the occasion. Now we can’t stop for a cheeseburger. People would almost certainly wonder why there was a handcuffed woman in the front of my mobile. That’s just the sort of thing people tend to remember. I should have brought a blanket to cover her up with.
We’re almost halfway there when the treacherous bitch next to me starts waking up. She mumbles something to me, but I admit I’m not really listening. The time for me to be a good listener to her is over, and it’s high time she does a thing or two for me.
“What’s going on? Michael, c’mon. What the hell are you doing? Get these things off me!” She’s holding up her handcuffed hands like I’m just going to release her for the asking. Why do women always think that?
She argues with me the whole way there, but she never physically struggles. That tells me she knows she deserves what’s coming; otherwise why not fight for your life? I probably could have married this woman for real, if she hadn’t fucked it all up with her nosiness and accusing ways and treachery. But that’s all behind us now.
I gently shove Elise into the cell. She’s frightened, but still doesn’t fight me. She keeps asking me what I want, why I brought her out here, what she has to do to get me to let her go. On a younger woman it would have been sexy, being all in my power and stuff. On Elise, it’s pathetic.
I don’t say a word to her. She’s screaming something as I leave her a jug of water, locking the two deadbolts behind me. Installing those locks was the hardest part of building this place. That alone took me the better part of a day. Hearing my so-called fiancée pound on the door as I walked away, I was pretty sure all that time and effort had been worth it. I’d find out for sure tomorrow morning when I came back.
Chapter Forty-Nine
(Elise)
Cell #1
I didn’t know what time it was when Mikey left me here in this crappy wooden shack with nothing but a jug of water. He locked me in, still wearing these goddamn handcuffs. Bastard! What the hell was I supposed to do now?
Sondra’s voice and her many “shoulds” came back to me now. I should have fought him harder, should have screamed for help, should have leapt from the car even as it was moving. I probably wouldn’t have been hurt that badly, and I wouldn’t be sitting here handcuffed in this room. I hadn’t wanted to take any chances, and now look where I was.
The wind was picking up outside, and was blowing into the holes near the roof. I’d had my coat with me, but it was gone now. Michael also took my purse, it seemed. I guess he didn’t want to leave me with a BlackBerry, eve
n though I’d be unlikely to get any reception way the hell out—well, I didn’t know where I was, exactly.
I rested my handcuffed hands on my stomach, sure I could feel the baby moving around inside me. It was far too early for that, of course. But it didn’t stop me from bonding with the tiny little life I would soon be bringing into the world. I just needed to get the hell out of here.
There was nothing in this ridiculous shack. No blankets, no flashlight or lantern, just a box to sit on and a gallon of water to hold me until whenever Michael decided to come back. I wanted to believe he’d be here in the morning, calm enough to realize how stupid he was being. But I remembered the tiny pants and the fact that I really had no idea what he might be capable of.
I needed to stay calm. I reminded myself and my baby of this over and over again. This wouldn’t be like last time; it would all turn out alright in the end. As soon as I articulated this thought, all the suffering of my last pregnancy flooded back before I could stop it.
“Can you please turn that down?” That goddamn country western bullshit was blaring again. I never could stand that garbage. From the next room, I heard the volume increase by at least a third.
“What’d you say, Leesey?” He knew I hated being called Leesey. My name is Elise. Is that really so difficult? I walked past him to the stereo and turned it down until it was barely audible. His eyes narrowed. “Turn it back.” He looked murderous.
“I have a headache,” I explained, looking down at my belly. I was noticeably pregnant at that time, seven months along.
“I swear to God, Leesey, if I have to get up …”
More than anything, I remember feeling the fear. I’ve always wanted to be the kind of person who didn’t cower in the face of fear. It was possible to conquer fear if you set your mind to it. There’s that saying about people who say they don’t fly on airplanes because they’re “afraid of flying.” But really, they don’t fly on airplanes because they let that fear keep them from buying airline tickets. See, you can feel the fear and not be paralyzed or dissuaded by it. Usually, the thing you fear is not nearly as harmful or dangerous as your fear makes it seem.