[2016] In Good Time

by Aqua Allsopp

  “As your lawyer I’m telling you to give it some time. Stay calm and stay away from your wife, you can’t afford to get into another run-in with the police right now.”

  “Okay Mike, I hear you man. I’ll do what I have to do to get my family back. I just don’t want those VA doctors getting inside her head telling her to leave me.”

  “Sheridan’s a level headed woman. She’ll do what’s best for the family. You go home and take it easy.”

  “Okay Mike, you’re right. Sheridan loves me. I just scared her and the kids, that’s all. I’ll get myself together, get a job, and get refocused again.”

  “That’s it Daryl, that sounds like a good plan. You focus on yourself and let the situation cool down for a bit.”

  “I can do that,” Daryl stood up, shook Mike’s hand, and left the lawyer’s office feeling optimistic about the future.

  *****

  Daryl resigned himself to working hard on recovering from post-traumatic stress (PTS) and on winning his family back. He was attending individual, group, and couple’s therapy every week. Then suddenly the train went off the rails!

  Daryl made his weekly trip to the grocery store and saw a young, happy family that could have been a mirror image of his own and snapped.

  “What’s that guy got in his pocket? Man, it sure is noisy in here. What was that? I saw something out of the corner of my eye, but now it’s gone. Those damn sneaky Hajis, (a euphemism that military people used for a Muslim insurgent during the Iraq and Afghanistan wars) one minute they’re there the next minute they’re gone. Where are the exits in case something pops off in here?” Daryl said to himself as he processed all of the usual sights, sounds, and activities of a regular day at the grocery store, through the distorted, hypervigilant filter of a PTS trigger.

  Suddenly, in his mind, seeing the family that looks like his made him agitated. Unable to quell the frustration inside, his body responds with anxiety, triggering a convergence of the fog of war from his past, with his present environment. Daryl is pushed beyond his ability to deal with his rising panic and unable to employ the coping skills that he’s learned. In his mind, the only way to stop the fear and anxiety is to get his family back.

  In that moment, Daryl became hell-bent on having Sheridan and the children come home now!

  “Sheridan, I need you to call me back now. If you don’t I’m going to make you pay for what you’re doing to me. Call me!” Daryl yelled into his cell phone from the grocery store parking lot.

  Daryl called Sheridan no less than thirty-seven times. Sheridan had no idea about what was going on. Her cell phone was on vibrate in her desk while she was teaching class. It wasn’t until over an hour after Daryl’s first call that she answered the thirty-seventh call and listened patiently to Daryl’s demand.

  “Sheridan, you had better bring my children home now and come home where you belong, or I’ll make you wish you had! I’m going to kill that VA doctor for twisting your mind against me.”

  This sent a chill down Sheridan’s spine, but she remained calm and tried to calm Daryl down also. It didn’t work.

  “Sheridan if you don’t come home, you’ll never see those kids again!” Daryl yelled into the phone.

  “Daryl you know I can’t do that honey, I’m at work, but I’ll be home at 5 o’clock okay?”

  “Don’t lie to me Sheridan, you bring my kids home right now!”

  “Okay, okay, I’m coming home baby, I’m coming home right now. Just let me go pick up the kids,” Sheridan said, making eye contact with the alarmed coworker who has been eavesdropping on her conversation, with alarm.

  “You’re lying Sheridan”.

  “No, I’m not, I’m leaving right now,” Sheridan said, as she grabbed her purse and headed for the door. As she exited the building the hot summer sun blinded her. She began to run toward the parking lot in the direction of her car when Daryl’s red pickup truck screeched to a stop in front of her.

  In one hand, Daryl held his cell phone. In the other was the unmistakable outline of a 9mm handgun. Daryl aimed it at her face. Sheridan felt the burning sensation of fear induced bile, releasing into her gut. The surge of adrenaline made her brain begin to process information at warp speed. Within seconds, she thought that the police were surely on the way, alerted to the emergency by her coworker. She thought of the children and found comfort in knowing that her parents would take care of them if she didn’t survive today’s ordeal. She even felt relieved that they were safely away from the potentially lethal situation until she saw Bailey’s little hand pressed against the window of the cab.

  Opening the front door, she attempted to smile at Daryl. “Hi babe, you didn’t tell me that you picked up the children,” she said casually, slowly stepping into the truck as if everything was perfectly normal.

  Bailey and Justin began to cry, but they seemed lethargic. She turned to them and softly said, “Shh, mommy’s here”, and touched each of their little hands. “Daryl what did you give them?”

  “They’re okay, I put a shot of Vodka in some juice and gave it to them. They’re just a little sleepy that’s all.”

  “How much did you give them Daryl?” Sheridan asked, trying not to let him hear the panic in her voice.

  “It’s just a shot between them I promise, I would never hurt my kids, you know that,” Daryl yelled as he slammed the gun against the steering wheel.

  Sheridan could hear the distant sound of police sirens, looking at Daryl’s face she knew that he heard them too. “Daryl, the police are coming. Let me get out with the children and you take off. We’re not supposed to be together. I don’t want to make any trouble for you. We can talk later.”

  “You called the cops on me Sheridan?”

  “No, Daryl I didn’t, I was on the phone with you the whole time. Someone else must have called.”

  “You liar!” Daryl yelled as he sped through the parking lot. He jumped on to the All American Freeway and then took Interstate 95 North. As they drove through Virginia, Maryland, Washington D.C., and Pennsylvania, there was no sign that they were being followed by law enforcement.

  “Daryl, please slow down, where are we going?”

  “You’re in no position to tell me what to do Sheridan, I’m in control now,” Daryl spat, waving his gun in the air. With that Sheridan sat back, remained silent, and tried to think about her next move.

  *****

  “Daryl, the kids need to go to the restroom and they need something to eat. It’ll be dark soon and they haven’t had anything to eat today. Can we please get off these backroads before dark and find some food?”

  Without speaking, Daryl pulled his truck off the road and into the tree line. He looked over at Sheridan and said, “Stay put! I’ll use the bathroom first and then I’ll take the kids”.

  Sheridan placed both hands on the dashboard in compliance, without speaking. Daryl walked to the back of the truck to relieve himself out of his daughter’s view. Perhaps being awake and driving for two days had taken its toll on him because he let his guard down by leaving his gun on the center console and the keys in the ignition. Sheridan thought this might be her last chance to escape.

  Thinking quickly, she reached over and placed her hands on the truck’s automatic door locks as she simultaneously turned on the ignition, then picked up the gun. She told the children to cover their eyes until she told them to look. Daryl ran back to the car and jammed his finger when the locked door handle wouldn’t budge.

  “Open the door Sheridan,” Daryl yelled while banging on the driver side window.

  Sheridan ejected the gun’s magazine to ensure she had bullets. Reassuring herself that she was now in control of the situation, she turned the gun’s lever to take it off safe and chambered a round. When she looked up at Daryl, he had a rock in his hand, raised to smash the window.

  Sheridan slammed the truck into drive and sped away just as the driver’s side window crashed all over her. The children began to scream as the truck fishtailed thro
ugh the upstate New York countryside. As Sheridan began to drive, she knew that she was far from being safe.

  Daryl was trained to survive in harsh conditions and rural Watertown, New York was a walk in the park for an army ranger.

  “Mommy’s okay, are you okay Justin?” Sheridan asked her son.

  “Yes, I’m okay,” Justin said through his tears.

  “Are you okay Bailey?”

  “Mommy, I want to go home,” Bailey cried.

  “I know babies, but we can’t go home right now. Your daddy’s sick in his head and doesn’t know what he’s doing. So we need to go on a little trip and let him get better.”

  Sheridan knew that our lives would be in danger if she came home, but we would gladly exchange our lives for the safety of her and the children. So Sheridan decided that she was safer on her own than at home with her dad and me. She stopped at the nearest ATM and withdrew all of the money that she could from her bank accounts and credit cards, then threw them away. She left the truck in the bank parking lot and took children to the restroom at a Wal-Mart up the road.

  By dusk, they left the store in new clothes, fresh haircuts and color, new names, and were freshly bathed. They took a taxi to a used car lot, paid cash for a Jeep, and she drove out of town on Interstate 90 as fast as she could—destination unknown.

  “Officer, it’s been over 48 hours. How could a red pickup go unseen on I-95 for two days?” A frustrated Charlie demanded.

  “Sir, I can’t imagine how you and your wife are feeling right now, but I do sympathize with you. I can assure you that the FBI takes interstate kidnapping of two children and your daughter very seriously and we are using every resource possible to find your family.”

  “Agent, they’re all we’ve got. Please find my daughter and my grandchildren,” I managed to say before breaking down.

  “Well ma’am, the pickup was found in a bank parking lot in Watertown, New York which is close to the Canadian border. Daryl may have gotten help with crossing into Canada by an army buddy at Fort Drum or in the surrounding area.”.

  “They were seen on a few Watertown surveillance cameras, then it seems as if they disappeared into thin air, but we’ll find them.”

  *****

  “Welcome to the Triangle X ma’am, are you checking in?”

  “No, I was wondering, are you hiring? The soft-spoken redhead asked. There was something so pitiful about her that even a wet behind the ears 20-year old could see it.

  “Hold on ma’am let me get the manager, she can help you out. Y’all gonna like it here at the Triangle X”. This time, he spoke with a boyish smile, a wink, and a tip of his cowboy hat, as he turned and walked away into to a building that looked like a giant log cabin.

  Sheridan changed her hair. It’s now a reddish-blonde, but there’s no mistaking those dazzling green eyes. Only, like the cowboy observed, there’s a noticeable sadness scrolled across her face. She even carries it in her body with her shoulders sloping forward and a slight forward bend at the waist. At 30-years-old, she has a very youthful face that seems to have been beaten down by time and circumstance.

  Misty, the hiring manager, ambled out of the cabin and over towards Sheridan. Misty had her sized up within seconds, but invited her into the office anyway. “So, you’re looking for a job?” Misty asked as she took a seat behind her desk, without inviting Sheridan to sit, so she remained standing.

  “Yes ma'am,” Sheridan responded.

  “Are you running away from someone or towards something else?”

  Sheridan dropped her gaze to the floor and said; “Away from something.”

  “Um-hum!” Did trouble follow you here?" Said Misty.

  “No ma’am, I took care that it didn’t, but it’s impossible to go home right now, and I’m not alone. I have my two children with me.”

  “I appreciate your honesty, but you know, if you got people that love you they’d welcome you home no matter what." Misty advised.

  “Thank you, ma'am, but I’m not ready to go home just yet, but I am ready to settle down someplace. I can ride well and I know how to care for horses, I can cook, clean, and I have computer skills, but I’d rather work outside if I can."

  “Beggars can’t be choosers, now can they?” Misty snapped. Sheridan took that for a rhetorical question and didn’t respond. “Well you’re in luck. I’m gonna run a background check on you and if you don’t have a police record I have an opening. We need a female chaperone and Wrangler for our children and teens program. You look like you’ve been rode hard and put up wet, and are a sandwich away from starvation, but young enough that the kids will relate to you. The job is yours if you want it,” Misty said gruffly.

  Sheridan forced a smile and said, “Thank you, ma'am.”

  Misty stood up, extended a rough hand attached to a strong forearm, out to Sheridan who reciprocated with a hearty handshake of her own.

  “So what will you call yourself in this new life of yours?”

  “Celine,” Sheridan replied.

  “Are you serious?” Misty said with one hand on her slim hip. “Think again, that name sounds made up.” Misty chided.

  “Victoria?” Sheridan asked.

  “That’s just as bad, Stephanie Austin, that’s your new name! I have a friend in town that’ll get you some ID made,” Misty said with a wink.

  “Okay!” Sheridan said with a smile. “My name is Stephanie Austin. This is my daughter Allison and my son Jake,” she said as they approached Bailey and Justin, who by now knew to just go with whatever new pretend game mommy was playing.

  Misty chatted up Stephanie and her children for a while before she returned to her office, allowing them to get settled into their cabin. After a quick background check on Sheridan Anderson, Misty did some searching on the Internet and found a Fayetteville Observer news article on how Sheridan, her two children, and husband Daryl are presumed dead after being missing for two-years. “You poor thing, you have been through a lot,” Misty said to the image of her new employee, Stephanie Austin, on her computer screen.

  Misty took care to delete her search history to ensure that no other employee stumbled onto this information about Sheridan Anderson—also known as Stephanie Austin.

  *****

  Misty, an average height, muscular woman with a weather-worn face, long brunette hair, and soft doe eyes, surprised Sheridan by placing an arm around her shoulder and saying, “come on honey, let’s all go get us something to eat. Kids never stray too far from your mom or another responsible adult. It’s easy to get lost. This is big country out here. You ever been out West before?”

  “No ma’am,” Stephanie, Allison, and Jake said in unison.

  “Well it’s a different life out here, but you’ll get used to it, and stop ma’aming me, I ain’t that old. I hope you like to eat because you need some food in you. One good gust of wind could knock all of you clean off a horse as skinny as you are. We need to pack some muscle on you,” Misty said with a hearty smile, as she squeezed Sheridan’s boney shoulder and pinched at the children’s ribs, which made them giggle.

  The brochure Sheridan found at the Wyoming visitor’s center read “As the premier Wyoming dude ranch inside Grand Teton National Park, the Triangle X Ranch provides visitors with fulfilling experiences within unsurpassed natural beauty.”

  Sheridan, now Stephanie, thought she could lose her past and any trail leading Daryl to her and the children, in the wide open spaces of Wyoming. She had been wandering from city to city until she wound up out West. After seeing the brochure for the Triangle X ranch, she thought this was as good a place as any to set down some roots for a while until she was sure that Daryl was in police custody.

  As for Charlie and me, the not knowing had us worried sick. Stephanie had not so much as emailed us. No one knew where Daryl, Stephanie, or the children were, and at this point Charlie and I were praying that one day they would find our family alive.

  “The Triangle X ranch has been a family run business for five gener
ations. Most of the staff are close or distant relatives of the owners, with some townsfolk and wayward strangers mixed in,” Dusty, a senior wrangler, said during training.

  Dusty took care to avoid eye contact as to not cause embarrassment over the obvious fact that Stephanie was one of those “wayward strangers” he was referring to. Dusty turned out to be a kindly man in his fifties, who had a boyish crush on Misty. Stephanie tried hard not to laugh at their mutual insults and playful banter each day.

  Before she knew it, Stephanie and the kids were another year older and enjoying their lives in the Western outback. Stephanie homeschooled the children in her spare time during the day and evening, spending most of their time with the other “little wranglers” in Stephanie and Dusty’s care.

  Stephanie was happy to be working out in the elements. She thought the people out West were a little rough around the edges as far as she could tell, but kind and welcoming. The food was amazing and she was so grateful to be working at a job that allowed her to keep her children close.

  Allison and Jake had become fine riders and learned the terrain quickly. Dusty praised them on many occasion on how they were becoming great wranglers and mentors to the other children. This made Stephanie relieved and proud to see her children flourishing in their new lives.

  Everything was going great until Stephanie received an additional work assignment. She was tasked to working with the dance team to balance out the ratio of male to female staff and guest dance partners at socials, and in the Latin and Square Dancing classes.

  Stephanie was mortified to know that she had to learn how to dance. With her two left feet, lack of rhythm, and utter disdain for the male gender after what she had been through at the hands of her estranged husband, the last thing that she wanted to do was to learn how to dance.