‘Thank you, Gary – that’s so sweet of you,’ I said, smiling at him warmly.
It was a start, I thought. He remembered my birthday. That meant he was thinking about me. I ordered Pork Yuk, minced pork in lettuce leaves, and the others chose their dishes.
This time, when he came back down with the food, he was juggling a number of other items.
‘Today, because it’s your birthday, we’re gonna have a party for you!’ he told me. ‘I’ve bought a cake and a present.’
If I’d ever had a weirder birthday than this one before, I certainly couldn’t remember it. There we were, five half-naked, half-starved women chained in a basement – and we were having a party. Unbelievable.
But I didn’t care – in this moment I felt something shift, a change in the balance of power.
He was thinking about me. He liked me. I didn’t care that the other girls were giving me daggers – it’s what I would have expected. For the first time I sensed that Gary liked me and I wasn’t going to blow it.
Trying to ignore the fact that I was still chained in his dungeon, I tried to act as normally as possible, like a girl being treated on her birthday.
‘Oh wow, Gary. You didn’t have to go to all this trouble,’ I said, smiling at him. We wolfed down our Chinese meals and then afterwards Gary led the girls in a round of ‘Happy Birthday’ and we each got a slice of cake.
It was soft and spongy, oozing with thick buttercream and jam. The sugary icing was intoxicating.
‘And, this is for you,’ Gary said, smiling shyly now as he handed me a box covered in purple wrapping paper. There was even a bow.
He went to a lot of trouble.
I didn’t have to fake it, I was genuinely surprised, and set to ripping at the paper.
I got the lid off the box to reveal a pair of red, furry slippers.
I put them on straight away. God, they felt so good! Until now we’d all been walking on cold, solid concrete, numbing the soles of our feet, keeping our legs almost permanently chilled.
They were just a pair of slippers but they made me feel like a queen.
‘Oh wow!’ I exclaimed again. ‘These are so nice. They feel real good, Gary. Thank you!’
Gary looked satisfied – he eyed the slippers on my feet and then looked up at the other girls, as if instructing them silently to admire them.
Of course they were all green with envy, except maybe Sandra who just seemed happy nobody was getting beaten.
They murmured quietly, ‘Nice.’ ‘Lovely.’ ‘They look real comfy.’
I looked down at them again and recalled an old film I saw once, The Wizard of Oz. Dorothy and her ruby slippers.
I closed my eyes, clicked the heels together three times and in my head I said: There’s no place like home, there’s no place like home.
In the film this sends Dorothy back home to her dearly loved Aunty Em. I thought of my children, thought of my mom and how wonderful it would be to see them again. Would my wish come true? I opened my eyes. Gary was still standing there, grinning away.
* * *
Later, Gary uncorked some non-alcoholic apple cider and we drank that out of Styrofoam cups. It was unpleasantly sweet and sharp enough to make me wince.
The music still blared out the radio – Prince’s ‘Purple Rain’ came on. A few of us started humming along, catching each other’s eyes and smiling for what felt like the first time in ages. Our voices, though soft and quiet, came together in that moment, as we mouthed the words to ourselves.
For the first time in a long while the music actually felt like our friend, not our enemy.
Then they played ‘Stand By Me’.
‘I like this one,’ Gary said, looking at me. ‘Let’s dance.’
So I stood up and walked into my captor’s embrace, letting him hold me close and turn me as we slow danced in his basement.
Me, in my new red slippers and chains.
‘No I won’t be afraid.’ The song’s lyrics were strangely comforting. ‘No, I won’t shed a tear…’
I felt the strength of his lean muscular body and his firm grip on my hands and this time, I didn’t smile. I looked away, coyly, as I would if I knew someone liked me and I was playing hard to get. I could tell he wanted me to look at him but I held back, just a little, just enough to keep him interested.
Was I playing a game? Of course – but I was playing for my life so I couldn’t put a foot wrong. I knew if I was too keen to show I liked him, he’d see right through it.
He was mad but he wasn’t dumb.
This had to come across as genuine. There was no room for screw-ups.
I briefly caught his eyes; the intensity was searing. I knew now why he chose this song – he actually wanted me to stand by him!
Okay, Gary, I thought, as I looked him directly in the eyes. You want a friend? I’ll be your friend. I’ll stand by you.
* * *
Until this moment I had no idea that my plan was working. Gary hadn’t given anything away, nothing to make me think I was getting through to him.
Now I knew he wanted me on his side.
And here I was, his very own Cinderella, chained up in his basement, ennobled by a pair of red fluffy slippers, lifted out of the darkness towards the light, towards freedom, back to my mom, back to my children.
I still didn’t know what my plan was – there was nothing organized about it, nothing clear-cut. I just knew I had to keep going along the same lines, get him to like me, get him to trust me.
If he thought for a minute that he’d lost me, I would pay with my life.
Chapter Eleven
Losing Sandra
‘Get up, Sandra! Come on, girl, stand up! Wake up!’
It must have been early February, but I’m not sure of the exact date. Sandra was hanging from the rafter by her wrist – she’d not eaten now for a couple of days and Gary was punishing her.
He’d chained her by her arm to a rafter in the ceiling so that she was forced to stand with one arm held over her head.
But she’d been standing like this for nearly a day now and at some point she’d fallen into unconsciousness – her whole body was slumped towards the floor, suspended just by her wrist.
Earlier in the day Gary had been down, trying to force her to eat.
He put a bit of bread in her mouth.
‘Come on, chew it!’ he shouted at her. ‘Chew the goddamn bread, Sandra!’
He got the stick and beat her across the back of her legs.
‘Swallow it!’ he ordered angrily. ‘Swallow it!’
But Sandra just moaned and spat the bread right out again.
‘Damn you, Sandra!’ he shouted. ‘You’re gonna eat! I’ll make sure of that. You’re just gonna stay there until you do.’
He thought she was rebelling, faking illness so he’d left her like that, one arm held over her head. But I could see she wasn’t well. She was so tired she could barely stand, let alone make the effort to chew the morsel. For Sandra, eating was always a problem but right now she seemed so out of it, she couldn’t get up the energy to eat even the smallest bite of food.
Her body was slumped forwards. She wasn’t moving.
I walked over to her and tried her pulse – it was beating but she was unconscious.
Her head hung low, her face sagged.
I wanted to shake her, tell her to get up, because I knew if Gary came down and found her like this again he’d only punish her more.
‘Come on, Sandra, get up!’ I said through gritted teeth. She was too heavy for me to lift and even if I did pick her up, it looked like she’d just fall back down again.
The other girls were calling out to her. ‘Sandra! Hey, Sandra! Wake up! Get up Sandra!’
Just then we heard Gary’s footsteps down the basement steps and I moved away from the suspended girl.
Gary’s face was a picture of fury as he caught sight of Sandra hanging pathetically in the middle of the room.
He stood looking at her li
ke that for a second before abruptly turning round and going back up the stairs. Seconds later he returned with the key to her handcuffs. He shouted to her: ‘Stand up, you bitch!’
Nothing.
‘I’ll make you stand up!’ he muttered as he unlocked her handcuff and in that moment Sandra’s whole body collapsed to the floor and her head hit the corner of the hole. Whack!
She lay there, still. I could see she was gone. Her mouth gaped, drool ran out the side, one eye was open, the other closed.
‘Oh man, that’s just a waste of a baby,’ said Gary.
We all sat there in stunned silence. Sandra was dead. I could hardly believe it. In those terrible, terrifying seconds a powerful sense of grief descended on us. I fought back my tears as Gary heaved Sandra over onto her back, then he picked her up like a sack of potatoes, slung her over his shoulder, and carried her upstairs.
The door clicked and I let the tears flow freely. I couldn’t believe she was gone – Sandra had been here with me almost since the very beginning.
How could she be dead?
But worse than the fact that Gary had killed her was his cold, callous reaction. He’d known Sandra for years – they were friends before this and in that one sentence he told us exactly what he thought of us all.
We were no more than baby-carriers, vessels for his children. He couldn’t care less about Sandra, he just carried her upstairs like she was no more than a piece of meat.
Lisa asked a question into the silence, ‘How do you think she died?’
I looked up. Her eyes were red and puffy. She was crying too. I looked around – they were all sobbing. Sandra was so soft, so innocent. Just a child, really. She should have been home with her mom and sister looking after her. She should have been kept safe somewhere. She didn’t deserve this, this hideous end.
I shook my head, trying to make sense of it.
‘I think she was choking on some bread,’ I said slowly. ‘That made her lose consciousness. Gary – he was trying to test her. I reckon he thought that if he let out the cuffs she’d put her hands out to stop herself falling. I don’t think he realized or understood that she wasn’t with it.’
‘That bastard!’ Deborah exploded. Perhaps Deborah wasn’t such a hard-ass after all. I could see she was shaken up quite badly. It was as if Sandra’s weaknesses and problems had brought out the soft side in all of us, even Deborah.
‘Did you see her face?’ said Jacqueline, her eyes wide in horror. ‘She was checked out. I ain’t never seen a dead person before. Poor Sandra!’
‘Yeah,’ Lisa echoed, lost in thought. ‘Poor Sandra.’
But I could see what they were all really thinking – poor us! Which one will be next?
That night everyone was quiet, even Deborah. I was grief-stricken. What a way to die! Sandra was so young, so trusting. Tortured to death by a man she had thought was her friend. She trusted me to get her out of this prison and I’d let her down so badly. I was racked with guilt and remorse. I should have done more to help. I could have done more. I could have made her eat if I’d really tried. She didn’t have to die. It all seemed so pointless and stupid. So damn stupid.
I pulled my arms around my body and curled into a ball, squeezing my knees into my chest for comfort. It took a long time to fall asleep that night.
The next morning we were awoken by a terrible stench.
It was putrid, sickening, the worst smell I’d ever smelled in my life.
‘What the fuck is that?’ Deborah screwed up her face in disgust.
I put my shirt up to my face. ‘I don’t know. I’ve never smelled anything like it. It’s revolting!’
We were all reeling from the smell when Gary opened the door and came down with our breakfast – a couple of pieces of bread each.
The smell was stronger now – it was on his clothes, it hung in the air. I could even taste it in the bread. I stopped eating, fearing I might retch.
Nobody said much – we didn’t ask him what the smell was. We didn’t want to know.
In fact, we didn’t know it at the time but the whole neighborhood was up in arms about the smell coming from Gary’s house. They even called the cops, who banged on the front door. That was something we all heard. Of course we didn’t know it was the cops. All we could hear was the banging on the door and Gary going to answer.
Officer Julio Aponte asked him what the smell was, telling him it was bothering his neighbors.
‘I just burned my dinner,’ Gary told him. And that was that – Officer Aponte was satisfied and went away. After all, you can’t arrest a guy for being a bad cook. If he’d taken the trouble to investigate, however, he might have seen the four half-naked women chained in the basement and the real cause of the stench.
Once again, we were maddeningly close to rescue and yet nothing happened.
* * *
Three days later we discovered the cause of the horrendous smell.
Gary was downstairs beating up Deborah. He had her in the hole most of the time since she’d been here but she just wouldn’t submit. Now she was refusing to get back down there and he was pounding on her ass but she just didn’t seem bothered anymore.
‘Is that the best you can do, jerk off?’ she jeered.
Gary stopped. He threw the stick in a corner and went back upstairs. He came back with a key and unlocked her chain.
‘Come upstairs with me,’ he ordered. ‘I’ve got something to show you.’
They were up there less than five minutes but when Deborah returned she looked terrified and she was shaking.
Gary rechained her and she went in the hole willingly.
We wanted to ask her what was wrong but she seemed so disturbed, we held off saying anything until later when she was let out again.
She was now sitting in the corner, her knees folded to her chest, her arms wrapped tightly round, rocking gently backward and forwards.
‘Deborah, what’s the matter? What happened up there?’ asked Lisa.
Deborah just looked at us blankly, shaking her head. ‘You don’t want to know.’
‘Come on,’ I said. ‘Tell us what happened.’
Deborah sighed and gave us a look, like, you asked for this, then started her horrific story.
‘He took me upstairs and he showed me Sandra’s head. It’s sitting in a pot and he’s boiling it on the stove. Then he showed me her ribs in a little roasting pan in the oven and he’s got her arms and legs in the freezer.
‘He says if I don’t straighten up, that’s going to be me soon.’
Jesus H Christ. He was cooking Sandra! My stomach turned over with the awful realization that the smell that had been coming out of his kitchen all this time was Sandra.
This was all getting too much. The others too were struck dumb with shock. My fingers were at my temples now, my breathing short and shallow. We all looked at each other, open-mouthed, none of us wanting to believe it, but knowing 100 per cent Deborah was telling the truth.
Deborah’s hands covered her mouth, as if she regretted letting the words come out. That by telling us, by voicing what she had seen, it had become reality. She started to rock again.
Oh sweet Jesus, what next?
Chapter Twelve
Alpo
When I was little I was afraid of the dark.
My mom would usually let me fall asleep with the light on but at some point during the night she’d come into my room and switch it off.
A couple of times I’d wake up to complete blackness and scream the house down. ‘Mom! Mom! It’s dark in here. I don’t like it. Turn on the lights!’
On one of these nights, Mom came bundling into my room. She wasn’t mad but she wasn’t going to let me have the light on again.
I’d be begging her to switch it on but she was adamant.
‘What if you’re in a situation where all the lights are out?’ she asked me. ‘You just have to adjust. Like there’s day, there’s night. That’s part of life and something you’re just going to ha
ve to get used to.’
‘I can’t,’ I wailed.
‘Yes you can!’ she insisted. ‘You just have to get used to it. Now quit your whining and go back to sleep.’
I was seven but you know what? I adjusted. I never slept with the light on after that. Mom didn’t pander to my weaknesses. She understood them, she was sympathetic to them but at some point she was always firm at making me face my fears.
‘Adjust. Get used to it,’ those were her words.
And that’s what I was trying to do in Gary’s frightening new world. Trying to adjust. To get used to it.
It was mid-February now, though we wouldn’t know this by the weather. We hadn’t experienced anything of the outside world since our capture. All we had was the bare bulb over our heads, constantly glaring a harsh light in our faces, day and night.
Like there’s day, there’s night, my mom said, except in here there was no day and no night.
I missed the natural sunlight, the fresh air, rain, friends, family, freedom.
But I tried not to think about these things. I tried to adjust.
The other thing I wasn’t thinking about was being pregnant. Aside from my periods disappearing, I had no other symptoms. Nothing. No nausea, my breasts weren’t sore, and I wasn’t displaying any of the signs that I had with my other pregnancies. Gary certainly didn’t take any special care of me now that he thought I was pregnant either – it wasn’t like he was giving me extra food or anything, and we never talked about it.
Every now and then Gary took us all upstairs for a bath. I let him watch me bathe in silence. I knew he thought about me now and I allowed him to think that I was on his side.
But the other girls, they were all trying their own thing too.
Jacqueline was chattering away the whole time he had her upstairs and when she got back he gave her two extra cookies.
Cellar Girl Page 10