Once, We Were Stolen

by Courtney Symons

  “So I can just come out here, whenever I want to?” she asked, to clarify.

  “Yes, you can. It’s really nice out here. There’s no reason you shouldn’t enjoy it. Maybe later, Ben will feel like taking a walk and you can show him around.”

  “Definitely,” she said. Today wouldn’t be the day she started her sign for help. It would be suspicious heading out on her own again. It could wait.

  14

  Vi says we’ve been here for more than two months. I don’t know how she knows that, I just wake up in the morning and go to bed at night and don’t really think about the days going by.

  I spend my days doing normal stuff. I watch TV and play with toys, I draw sometimes. I don’t have to go to school, which is neat, but there aren’t any other kids my age here, which isn’t so great. It’d be nice to have someone to play with.

  I wanna play hide-and-seek and go to make-believe worlds and have sword fights, but Vi never seems to want to. I don’t think she has the best imagination.

  So I had to come up with some friends of my own. Their names are Deedee and Dodo. I don’t know why they came to me. I think I might’ve asked for them one time when I was trying to fall sleep and feeling sad I didn’t have anyone to play with. I haven’t told Vi about Deedee and Dodo yet, she wouldn’t get it. I guess I’m a little old for them, but they spend time with me and they’re really nice. They look like big blobs with arms and legs and faces. I’m pretty sure they live in the forest. They don’t stay with me at night, and they don’t like to come around when I’m with Vi or Jeremy. I think they’re a little shy.

  Today I was outside playing hide-and-seek with them. There are so many trees here, and all sorts of things to hide behind. Every time, I like to hide a little farther away so that I can keep exploring. I always watch out for the fence though, and make sure I don’t go too far. Jeremy will know if I do, and I don’t want to make him mad.

  So I was it, and I was talking to them, you know, telling them I was looking for them and that they can run but they can’t hide. They were hiding though, so that doesn’t really make sense, but you always hear people say that so I wanted to try.

  All of a sudden I felt like there was someone there, I mean someone besides Deedee and Dodo and me. I turned around, and it was Jeremy.

  “Hey,” he said. I didn’t really want him around. Deedee and Dodo went off and hid somewhere I’d never find them, they probably even went home.

  So I said “Hi” in a grumpy voice and started walking back to the house because I didn’t really feel like playing anymore.

  “Who were you talking to?” he asked.

  “No one,” I said because that was sort of the truth but not really.

  “It’s okay, I don’t think it’s silly. I used to have imaginary friends too.”

  I wanted to tell him they weren’t imaginary. They were real to me and I liked to play with them, and they liked to play with me. But I wanted to know about his friends, so I said, “You did?”

  “Yeah, I did.” I hoped he would say more, but he didn’t, so I asked him to tell me about them.

  “Well, there were three of them.” (Three!) “They were named Joey, Jesse and Sam. They’d come and play with me when I didn’t have anyone else to play with.”

  “Why didn’t you have anyone to play with?” Maybe he had been taken away from everyone too, just like us.

  “There were people around to play with, it’s just that none of them wanted to play with me.”

  “Why not?” I knew Vi would tell me I was asking too many questions, but he kept not saying enough, and besides, she always asks too many questions.

  “I don’t know, I guess they thought I wasn’t cool enough, or that they would get in trouble from their friends if they played with me. I did have one friend, his name was Billy, but he wasn’t around too much. And there was a girl too, named Sarah, and she would play with me sometimes but only when no one was looking. Whenever anyone else was around, she would pretend she didn’t know me.”

  I knew the type of kid that Jeremy was. There was a boy named Harvey in my class like that. He was small and he cried a lot, and no one really ever talked to him. He always sat by himself. I never played with him.

  Jeremy kept going, without me asking this time. “So when there was no one else to play with, that’s when Joey, Jesse and Sam would come around. They were good friends to me.”

  I liked the way that sounded. I think he might have understood. I decided I could tell him about my friends.

  “Well, I have two of them.” I liked that he’d had one more than me. “Their names are Deedee and Dodo, and they live in your forest. They’re pretty shy. I don’t think they’re going to come out to meet you.”

  I wondered if maybe he’d be able to see them. Some people might have something special in them that lets them see all the imaginary people. But not today.

  “That’s okay,” he said. “Another time. Just so you know though, if they’re ever not free to play, you can ask me. I know it’s not the same, but it might be better than nothing.”

  He’d already offered before, and he doesn’t know how to have fun the way I do. But it was a nice thing to say, so I said thank you because I know Vi would have elbowed me if she was here and I didn’t say it.

  “Do you want to come inside for some lunch? I can make you a grilled cheese.”

  He makes really good ones. He has this press thing that makes them into two triangles and seals in all the cheese. And he uses real cheese too, not the slices. Plus, he always has ketchup. Vi thinks it’s gross to use ketchup but I think it’s the best.

  I told him okay and started to walk back up to the house with him. Jeremy’s hand was kind of dangling towards me and I think he might have wanted me to hold it. I definitely wasn’t going to do that. I turned around and waved goodbye to Deedee and Dodo because it turned out they hadn’t run away from Jeremy after all. They were still in their hiding places, peeking out from behind them, and they waved back to me.

  15

  Violet put off making her sign. Jeremy would be suspicious about her wandering off alone. She found herself sticking close to the house’s walls. It comforted her in a way she didn’t understand.

  When she needed time to herself, she plopped down on the front porch with a book. This house had a library, the kind she had always dreamed of. Books lined every wall from top to bottom, so high up there was a ladder on a track to wheel it wherever you needed to go. It was beautiful. She could read for the rest of her life and still not be able to get through all the words that were in those walls. But she was certainly putting in a dent.

  She would sit out on the porch in the rocking chair with a cup of tea. It used to creak, but Jeremy fixed it. She hadn’t even asked him to. One day it creaked and the next it didn’t.

  Sometimes, Jeremy would bring her a snack. Crackers and cheese or little bits of chocolate. She’d never had anyone bring her snacks before, and she tried very hard not to find it endearing.

  She had to get out of there. Her eyes were open, and if an opportunity to escape presented itself she would jump on it. She would. There just hadn’t been one yet.

  With each passing day, she knew it was less likely a helicopter would be searching for them and see the sign she had yet to make.

  Tomorrow, she thought to herself every day.

  Halloween was approaching. It had always been a huge holiday for her and Ben, and for years they had dressed up in elaborate costumes together. A tiny bit of hope inside her wondered if some trick-or-treaters might come to Jeremy’s door. She was going to have a note ready and written.

  HELP! We have been kidnapped by a man named Jeremy who lives in this house. Our names are Violet and Ben Wrigley. Please contact our mother, Holly Wrigley at… She would slip the letter into their bags along with the candy.

  “Hey Jeremy,” she said to him later when he walked up the porch and past her, about to head inside.

  He stopped and swiveled. “Yes?”r />
  “What’s the date today?”

  She could see him hesitate.

  “The reason I’m asking,” she decided to make it easier for him, “is because I think it’s getting close to Halloween, and Ben and I love that day.”

  “You do? I do too!” He sounded convincing. “And you’re right,” he added, “it is coming up. Today is October 23rd.”

  They had arrived on August 18th. Violet couldn’t believe how much time that was, how many days had been lost. She kept notches on the side of her bed, inscribing a new one each night. There was probably a night or two she had forgotten, and she’d had to guess how many days had gone by in the basement.

  “Do you think we might be able to celebrate?” she asked.

  Jeremy paused. “I don’t see why not.”

  “Could we go somewhere to pick out costumes?” she ventured.

  “No, but there’s a whole closet full of clothes upstairs that you can look through.”

  “Are they all yours?” she asked, surprised. He didn’t seem the type to have clothes for all occasions. As far as she could tell, he had about three pairs of faded jeans and an assortment of one-coloured t-shirts. Mainly grey.

  “No,” he said. “They’re—” He wondered how he could answer smoothly so she wouldn’t know he was lying. “They were in here when I moved. I just never cleaned them out. You’ll find some good stuff up there. Boas and hats and jewellery, all kinds of things.”

  Violet was excited to tell Ben.

  “Do you usually get trick-or-treaters?” she asked, trying to sound casual.

  “Mmm, sometimes.” He had no idea, because he’d never spent a Halloween there before. Without another house for miles he doubted it, but decided it couldn’t hurt to embellish.

  “One year, I got five kids. That was a big one.” He lied for fun. Because he could.

  All sorts of ideas popped into his head. There were pumpkins to carve, seeds to roast, pies to bake, candy to buy, the house to decorate, costumes to assemble… He didn’t know why he hadn’t thought of it. What a way to spend Halloween! They could sit around a fire and tell each other ghost stories while eating candy in their costumes. He knew he was a little old for it, but if Violet was excited then he had every right to be.

  There was no way Violet and Ben should miss out just because they were away from home, he reasoned. Jeremy made a resolution that from then on, they would celebrate every passing holiday. They had missed Thanksgiving, but could observe the American holiday instead if they chose, or pick an arbitrary day to celebrate just because.

  Violet got up then. “I’m going take a look in that closet, if that’s alright.”

  “Sure, go ahead,” he said. “It’s in my room.”

  The bedroom of her captor wasn’t a place she should volunteer to enter, but she did. She walked in, saw that his bed was made and no longer bare, and that no real traces of him had leaked out into the room. There weren’t any pictures, no obvious accents of his own. Violet wasn’t sure if it was comforting or eerie.

  The bedroom walls were wood panelled. One faced the property and had a little window seat with pillows. It surprised her that Jeremy had thought to put soft things there. Another wall held his tidy bed, the opposite had a door on each side of it, one of which had to be the closet. She swung open the big wooden entrance and marvelled. The closet extended from one end of the room to the other, the opposite wooden door marking the end of it. Violet was greeted with a rainbow of colours and patterns and shapes; tops and bottoms and dresses. Even shoes! A tie-rack! The sloped ceiling was just high enough to hunch beneath and there was a light on each end. It was a hidden treasure trove.

  She couldn’t wait to show Ben. A closet like that was the perfect spot for hide-and-seek, which he had been playing a lot of. Usually all by himself.

  A soft, thick fabric tickled Violet’s arm. Velvet. When she was a little girl, Violet’s favourite dress had been made of velvet. It had been purple with a black belt around the middle that came to the front in a little bow. She had never been crazy about the two puffed sleeves.

  She fought the memory that came along with that dress. She’d been fighting it since they’d been taken, and had been successful until now. The fabric allowed the details to flow back, to creep into her conscience. She hadn’t realized she could remember so clearly.

  It had happened when Violet was five. There was a park across the street from her house. The rule was that she had to tell her mother when she was about to go play, so that Holly could see her through the front door if she left it open.

  But one time, Violet didn’t ask. Dusk was setting and Holly was in the backyard with a man. Violet didn’t remember his name, was too young to realize it didn’t matter. There had been a string of nameless men already, and there would be many more to come. They would stay late into the night, long after Violet had gone to bed. Sometimes, they would even come back early in the morning and have breakfast. Violet didn’t like it when that happened. They always tried to talk to her but never knew how.

  While Holly entertained in the backyard, Violet decided to go to the park. It wasn’t very far, and no one would notice. She had been set up with a couple of puzzles and toys in the living room and left to rot while they giggled out back.

  Slipping her shoes onto her toes, she stomped her heels down. No coat; it was summertime. She reached up, grabbed the doorknob and turned it deliberately. Thankfully, it was unlocked. She couldn’t have reached that high.

  Cars drove by all the time so she knew to stop at the end of the driveway and look both ways.

  Shuffled steps took her across the road after squinting into the fading light. Hopping onto the curb, she kicked her way through the gravel and onto the slide, down the slide, over to the swings. After learning to propel herself, she couldn’t get enough of them. Instead of waiting for her mom to push her for only minutes at a time, she could now sit for hours, pumping her own legs in and out.

  Violet was high in the air when she heard deep voices. That wasn’t so strange; lots of dads and boys lived in the neighbourhood. She was used to seeing them around, but paused to think if she would get in trouble. It could be Mr. Saunders out walking his dog. He might not even see her if his thick glasses weren’t trained right on her.

  But it wasn’t Mr. Saunders. It was two younger men, ones she’d never seen before. Violet’s eyes had grown used to the dying light; she hadn’t noticed it had gotten so dark.

  She stopped pumping her legs. It was time to go home. She wanted to hop off the swing while it was still in motion but never summoned the courage to do it. She was a slave to the slowing movements bringing her back and forth.

  The two men weren’t just walking by as she’d thought. They stopped, standing in the gravel like children. Maybe they were, but big ones, much older than she. Violet’s heart began to beat faster; she could feel the heat in her ears.

  One of them spotted her and spoke, said something like, “Hey little girl, what are you doing out alone so late?”

  Violet knew not to talk to strangers, and by this time her swing had come to a stop. She hopped off and began to walk quickly. All she had to do was leave the playground, cross the street, walk up the driveway and back into her house until she was safe.

  The two men didn’t let that happen. They rushed towards her. One gripped her arm; the other grabbed her legs and swung them upwards. She was suspended between them before she could even yelp. Violet didn’t utter a sound. Somehow, she convinced herself it would be worse to scream and have her mother find her breaking the rules.

  They carried her underneath the play structure, the part with the little benches and fake kitchen, and laid her down on the ground. Violet caught sight of her purple velvet dress shining in the light.

  “You shouldn’t be here all alone,” the one at her feet said. Violet still didn’t make a peep.

  “Keep holding her arms,” the man said to the other. She might as well have been chained.

  The o
ne at her feet reached under her dress. Violet closed her eyes and sucked in her lips, willing them to stay shut, shut, shut. Everything shut. Her small body tensed so much that one man whispered in her ear, “Relax little girl.”

  The nerve.

  Violet remembered his foul breath, like her mom’s after a long night with one of those nameless men. Stale, dank, rotten.

  He left her dress on. The purple velvet with the pretty bow and the puffed sleeves. But her underwear came off. Little white ones, nothing fancy, and Violet wondered why he wanted them, why he smelled them before tossing the cotton aside.

  He touched her down there, laughed about something, then spit on his hands and rubbed them on her. She wanted to scream then. She didn’t understand any of it and had no idea what he wanted down there.

  Only a moment later she felt a sharp jab into her body. She wondered if she’d been stabbed but realized it was his fingers. This time she cried out, in pain and not by choice. The man at her head clamped his hand over her mouth. No one could hear her, no one could see her, and there was no way she could get away from them on her own. She was trapped. She wouldn’t be able to get up and walk home until they let her. She wondered if they ever would, and started to cry.

  Violet heard the man at her feet fumbling with his belt buckle. He made strange, grunting noises and she thought he might be in pain. Well, she was too. He had taken his hands off her, but she could still feel his phantom fingers conquering forbidden land. And then it got worse.

  With each stroke, Violet shrank further away, deeper and deeper into herself. She wasn’t sure how long it lasted before she heard the shout. Without knowing whether it was another one of them or someone who would help, Violet tried to stay silent, her scream ricocheting in her head.

  “Hey!” she heard the voice shout.

  “Shit,” the belt-fumbler whispered. “Shit, shit.” He stopped playing with his pants and let go of her. The second one followed suit, and in an instant they were off and running. Violet lay there, wide-eyed, fully clothed except for her underwear, and waited for the voice to approach her.