DREW SMILED. He was enjoying where this was going. This chick had some snarkiness and maybe a little sophistication. It didn’t really speak to the idea of someone under eighteen, but even if she was nineteen, she was still pretty young. Young enough to be more than just entertaining.
He hoped he wasn’t moving too fast by asking his next question.
> So, that pic of yours. Really you?
> Wouldn’t you like to know?
Yes. Yes, I really would.
He typed: > Nah. I like a relationship based on deception.
> LOL I think I like you already.
Charming. Just be charming. Keep your desires in check. Don’t spook her.
> How about you, Mr. Pro. Is that picture really you?
> Of course!
It wasn’t, of course. But he did have a collection of photos of the guy; someone he’d toyed with on another chat program.
He knew he’d need to manufacture an identity that was believable. And to do that, he was going to have to get a guy to send him a lot of pictures. He’d tried pretending he was a girl, but it was difficult to keep the ruse going long enough to get guys to send pictures of themselves in different states of dress—and undress—without sending pictures of a girl who was doing the same. So, he decided to bite the bullet and pretend he was gay. It wasn’t too difficult to find some young guys willing to show off. Ultimately, Drew was able to put together a couple of collections of photos from different guys that he could use on ShareU.
> Yep! If you’re a good chickadee, I may send you another picture or two.
> Keep your pants on, young man.
That did sound too fast. Okay, backpedal.
> Not what I meant. I’m completely dressed.
> Nice to know. For now anyway.
This is good. This is really sounding good.
THEY’D BEEN CHATTING for nearly twenty minutes. She knew that he was several states away, was willing to show that he really was represented by his profile picture, and he hadn’t asked her to take her clothes off. At least not yet.
All right, then. About as safe as it’s going to get.
Elizabeth would finally give in to her curiosity.
> OK, ProGuy, you’ve got me wanting to see. But fully clothed. Understand?
> You bet! Give me a sec.
A little ding sounded in her earbuds, announcing the arrival of a ShareU file. She opened it up.
Definitely the same guy. And still cute. She was about to tell him that she would reciprocate, when she had a feeling … a feeling that something wasn’t quite right.
How to get him to prove who he was. She thought about having him show her his diploma. But they hadn’t shared real names yet, so she wouldn’t be able to verify anything that way.
Wait! Got it!
> You’re definitely a cutie! You just might get a pic or two from me too. Send me another. Something with a personal, handwritten message just from sweet ole you.
That should make things very clear. If he was able to produce this simple request, she knew she could take a few chances of her own.
THIS WAS SOMETHING that Drew was very prepared for. He’d asked for the very same thing from the guy he’d chatted with. Being the ultimate computer geek, he was able to pull up the picture of his alter ego in his graphics editor, erase the note the guy had handwritten on a sheet of printer paper, and write one of his own. He used his touch screen pen to hand write a simple message: Hi, MayB4U! Good meeting you!
Man, I’m good.
Drew sent the manipulated image over to her.
ELIZABETH OPENED THE new file. There he was, cheesy smile on his face, with a handwritten note.
She smiled. Nice!
> Awww … thank you!
> No problem. Sounds like I may have made you smile.
> You did!
> So, do you like being a waitress? Oops! Server?
> Funny man. Yeah, it’s all right. Had a good day today.
> What kind of restaurant? A chain?
> No, just a family restaurant in Millsville.
Wait! What’s wrong with you! Why did you tell him where?! She’d let down her defenses and just let it slip out through her fingers.
She closed her eyes. Dumb. So dumb. Now all she could do was wait to see what kind of response that would bring.
Chapter 16
D
rew instantly opened up a browser search engine and typed in “Millsville.”
Enter.
Plenty of results for cities and towns called Millville, but there was only one city in the United States called Millsville. And that was right where he thought it was: Northeast Ohio.
He knew the city. He’d driven through it plenty of times. Not but twenty or twenty-five minutes away.
She’s not far.
He grinned. He’d played this game long enough to know how to not spook her. He hoped.
In response, he typed: > Is there some big old mill in your town? Is that how it got its name?
ELIZABETH FELT HER heart rate slow down a bit. The initial fear of giving too much information seemed to have been unfounded. Not a mention of Ohio or anything else that made it sound like he’d begin stalking in the morning.
> Nope. I’m not sure why it’s called what it is.
> So, what about those pictures you were thinking about sending to me?
Elizabeth forced herself to restrain a giggle.
> Are you asking just to see if I match my profile picture or … for some other reason?
> Uh-huh.
This time, Elizabeth did laugh. She quickly looked over to the crib. Kyla stirred and lifted her right hand into the air before laying it back down beside her. She watched as her little girl’s chest continued to rhythmically rise and fall.
Whew. Dodged that bullet.
Looking back at her laptop monitor, she opened up the ShareU camera app, made sure her hair wasn’t a mess, and snapped a picture. Below the photo she typed: > OK. The real me. Don’t judge!
As Elizabeth hit Send, she thought, There’s no way he’s going to look at me and think I’m in college. That was okay, though. He was a safe distance away, and a lot of guys didn’t care if she was a bit young, as long as she wasn’t too old.
DREW OPENED THE PICTURE.
Wow! Even better than her profile pic!
He began to type that he was pleasantly deceived but stopped. Instead, he clicked the VoiceU app, chose the ‘Robot’ voice modulator setting and said, “Wow, server girl! I’m pleasantly deceived. Thank you for the great pic! I’m looking forward to more.”
He hit Send and within a few seconds received the response he’d been craving.
She, too, had decided to use the VoiceU app, and using the Helium Voice setting, responded with a tantalizing, “So am I!”
TWENTY-THREE, CUTE, and three states away. Elizabeth could feel another form of excitement growing within her. If he wanted to play, she’d play. Of course, she’d have to tease him a little bit more, but in the end, she knew that she’d give him what he wanted. And he’d do the same for her.
She found it curious why more girls weren’t as visually stimulated as she. To have someone share his most intimate body parts … how could that not be a rush in every girl’s mind?
Elizabeth leaned her head back for a moment and closed her eyes. There had been so many pictures of so many different men that she’d viewed over the years, but there had only been one that she’d physically encountered.
Jason.
At fourteen years old, she’d trusted him to show her what it meant to feel like a woman. Unlike many of the videos she watched, he had proved to be gentle and patient. She could tell that he had known she was a virgin. And she had seen it in his eyes that he knew she wasn’t sixteen. He’d caressed her for several minutes before beginning to remove her clothes.
She had trembled beneath his touch. She remembered how her he
art pounded in her chest and her breathing had become shallow and rapid. She’d closed her eyes then too.
When he had fully removed her clothing, he asked if she wanted to do the same for him. She had nodded. And began.
It was an awkward couple of minutes. Her hands had trouble managing shirt buttons, a belt, and everything else. But in the end, she’d seen and felt nakedness for the first time.
Again, he’d caressed her. This time, the whole of her body. She had stopped trembling and allowed his touch to soothe her, and periodically she was surprised with sensations she didn’t know her body could produce.
Elizabeth opened her eyes and returned them to the screen of her laptop. She saw a message waiting for her from Mr. New Pro: > I know I shouldn’t be so forward, but … I’d really like to see what you look like. You know….
He followed it quickly with another message: > I shouldn’t have said that. Sorry. It’s just that you’re so attractive. It’s got my hormones raging a little bit. You don’t have to do anything.
Elizabeth’s pulse quickened. She paused only briefly, then responded: > It isn’t called fanta-SEE for nothing!
> Haha! I love it! Fanta-SEE!
She released a quiet giggle. Let the teasing begin. > Option A - Sexy, leaving some things to the imagination, or Option B - Leave less to the imagination?
> Criminy! Definitely those two things.
Criminy? This guy is too much fun!
Chapter 17
T
he praise and worship music portion of the service had ended, and they were only a few minutes into the message when Brent nudged Tara and directed her attention to Elizabeth sitting three seats to their left, next to Jenna. She was fidgeting and couldn’t seem to stop.
Tara looked back at Brent and leaned into him. Whispering, she said, “I guess she’s still not viewing church as a worthwhile experience.”
“By now, you’d think something would have been said during one of the messages that would have penetrated her heart.”
“She’s a hard nut to crack. We just keep loving and praying. It’s all we can really do.”
They returned their attention to the message being presented by Pastor Sagan.
At least Brent tried to pay attention.
Maybe I should tell her the entire truth.
He’d had the dream again, and he couldn’t shake it. That dark place. Each night, it revisited him. He might not be waking Tara with a frightened gasp each morning, but it certainly awakened him into an immediate state of panic-filled alertness.
Okay. After church, I’ll explain it all to her.
Brent looked upward for a moment. God, please … please let this not be the beginning of something crazy. Not again.
BRENT WALKED IN through the front door and called out. “Food’s here!” Making his way into the dining room, he put the large and medium pizzas on the table.
“Mmm. Smells delicious,” said Tara, making her way toward him from the kitchen.
“Oh, yeah. Pizza. So much better than steak.”
Brent’s sarcasm invited a give-me-a-break stare that she was all too willing to provide.
“Hey, buddy, it was either that or tuna helper. We’ve got some shopping to do.”
“Gee. What could be more fun than that?”
The sounds of feet pounding down the stairs drew Tara’s attention away, but Brent tried to quietly call her attention back. “Tara.”
“Wash your hands, everyone,” she said to three teens and an eight year old.
“Tara.”
She turned to look at him. “Hmm?”
“When we’re done eating, there’s something I need to share with you.” His face, he knew, betrayed some of the gravity behind the subject matter he wanted to discuss.
Concern filled her expression. “What? What’s wrong?”
He tried to lighten the situation a little. “It can wait. It’s not an emergency.”
“Brent?”
“Trust me. Really, it can wait. I just didn’t want you to run off on some grocery or laundry tangent after we’d eaten.”
She sighed and raised her eyebrows. “If there’s something really wrong and you’re not telling me—”
“It’s okay. Let’s eat.”
“But if I do decide to go on a grocery tangent, you are coming with me.”
Brent couldn’t help but smile. “Yeah, yeah … I know.”
The four kids hurried from the bathroom into the living room, Jamie’s hands still wet, and made their way to the dining table where there was a stack of plastic plates, a pile of napkins, and empty cups pre-filled with ice. They all dived right in—except for Elizabeth who first placed Kyla into her high chair. Chatter amongst the teens definitely lightened the mood. Not a care in their world, it seemed.
Brent sighed. It’s good to see smiles and hear laughter.
Amy was graciously permitted by Jamie to grab what she wanted out of the pizza boxes before he grabbed his share.
“So, Amy, what have you been doing for the past little while?” asked Brent.
“Giving Elizabeth and Jenna pretty-cures.”
Jenna and Elizabeth giggled.
“You were pretty close on that word, Amy,” said Elizabeth, obviously enjoying her own play on Amy’s words. “Try again. Pedi-cures.”
“Pedi-cures. Yes. That’s what I was giving them.” Amy grinned.
“And she did a pretty good job too!” Jenna added. “Most of the polish made it onto our nails!”
Tara laughed and Brent smiled.
Yep. Everything was good in the Lawton household.
Brent considered that the dreams might not be associated with anything “real life,” unlike when he was a teen. Right now, nothing out of the ordinary seemed to be happening. Certainly nothing evil.
Back in those early years, his nightmares seemed to correspond with his involvement in the occult. Once he’d accepted Christ as his Savior, the nightmares had come to an abrupt halt; he’d been completely set free from the demonic oppression that had haunted him for so long.
Then what were these dreams? Were they a spiritual insight of some sort—a warning that something bad was on its way? Boy, he sure hoped not.
He became aware that Tara was eyeing him. He put on his best happy face and said, “Aren’t you hungry? I’m pretty sure I can hear your stomach growling over all of this racket.”
“Oh, I’m famished. You’d better grab something first, or you’ll only end up with crumbs.” Then, still holding his attention, she quietly mouthed the words, “You’d better be okay.”
WITH THE TEENS off into their Sunday-afternoon lives, Brent and Tara were able to sit down for a few minutes in the living room to talk. They’d promised Amy some time at Belle Meadow Park with a friend of hers, but they still had a little more than an hour before they had to be there. Fortuitously, Amy had just started a new “project” in one of her drawing books, so she would be occupied for a little while.
Brent forced a smile as Tara sat down and faced him on the couch.
“So? Tell me.”
“Like I said, it’s nothing serious.” Pause. “At least I hope not.”
Tara’s brows pinched together and she pursed her lips, concern registering in her features again.
“You already know about my periodic dreams.”
“Yes. Did you have another one?”
“Yes. Now here’s the thing. And Tara … don’t get mad.”
Concern transitioned into a look of pre-anger anticipation.
Oh, great. Here it comes.
She raised her eyebrows, prodding him to continue.
He sighed and went on. “The nightmares aren’t exactly … periodic. I actually haven’t gone a single night without one.”
He waited for her response. It wasn’t what he’d anticipated.
Her eyes went from pre-angry back to concerned. She scooted a little closer.
“How bad? How bad are the dreams really?”
He’d never fully explained his repetitive dream. He’d always shrugged it off as something barely memorable. But now he was going to have to come clean.
“All those times that I told you that I couldn’t remember much of what took place in them? Well, that wasn’t exactly the truth.” Pause. “I remember them perfectly.”
“What? Why would you lie about that?”
Brent wanted to respond defensively that he hadn’t lied, but he caught himself. Because he had lied. Pretty blatantly.
“I guess I didn’t want to concern you.”
“Well, you’ve kinda blown that, now, haven’t you? You should have told me, Brent!” Her voice was getting a little louder.
Brent glanced behind him and upward toward the staircase, a plea to keep her voice down. If there was one thing he knew about Tara, it was that her Scottish blood could come to a rapid boil. And her hair was the perfect color to portray that heat.
“Fine,” she said, bringing it down a notch. “Now out with it.”
“Okay. I’ll explain everything, including all the details from the dream.”
“Wait, it was just one dream? The same dream every night?”
“Yes. Now, I didn’t tell you, because I used to have a similar dream as a teenager.”
Tara’s eyes widened and her mouth dropped open a little bit. “Not the same dream. The one with the railroad ties?”
Brent nodded. “The same, but with a different ending. Much different.”
He went on to describe everything that he could recall about his nighttime encounters with the darkness, pretty sure that he wasn’t leaving anything out. When he reached the point in the dream in which he’d jump after the falling flower, he could see Tara’s facial expression tense.
“Every time—every single night—I reach out for that potted daisy, and … I catch it.” Brent paused and looked Tara in the eyes. “That’s it. That’s what I’m experiencing.”
That Dark Place Page 10