CHAPTER FIVE
Despite being imprisoned inside a monkey cage, despite struggling with thirst and hunger, despite having to endure humiliation, and despite feeling like she was being stripped of her humanity, one attribute still clung to Kathleen. Vanity. She couldn’t help but wonder what she looked like after going so long without being able to properly groom herself. She knew her hair was a mess. It was sweaty, matted, and was in desperate need of shampoo and conditioner and a good combing and blow-dry. She imagined her make-up was also in disarray. Lipstick smeared from sucking on a baby bottle and then throwing up. Mascara smudged, perhaps streaking down her face, from all the crying she had done. Her blush and foundation were most likely gone from all the sweating. Kathleen wished she had a mirror, but, then again, what good would a mirror do if she had no make-up to fix her face with. And why was she so concerned about her appearance? No one was there to see her but her kidnapper. She was concerned about her appearance because it had been drummed into her head about the importance of appearance. Kathleen cared about her appearance because, if someone did bust down the green door and rescue her, she didn’t want to be seen not looking her best. Appearance is everything, her mother would often preach to her. No matter what. No matter how you felt, whether good or bad. No matter where you were. How a person looked and how they dressed said tons about what kind of person they were. Kathleen knew if her mother could see her now, she would be so disappointed in her daughter.
Sitting inside her prison, an all too familiar crutch hung over Kathleen’s head like a blow fly over rotting garbage. Thirst and all the complications that it brought. She was growing tired of constantly being thirsty. She realized because of her hypoglycemic ailment that she became thirsty quicker than the average person and, because of her condition, she always felt like she had a handicap. Of course, it wasn’t like missing a leg or being blind, but, when a person is the type who always strives for perfection, Kathleen had to sometimes admit she was flawed. She was restricted on eating and drinking certain things. She had to maintain an eating schedule or else she would suffer dizzy spells. She had to maintain a regular exercise regimen to keep the weight off her. Weighing too much could potentially cause her blood/sugar level to stay low. And her condition was getting worse every year. There was even talk about one day having to put Kathleen on medication. She never quite felt completely free. Bound by her affliction.
Kathleen was certain the temperature inside the old factory was hotter than it had been yesterday. Through the high windows, she saw nothing but blue skies. Inside the abandoned factory, the air was arid and still. Every breath Kathleen took felt as though the air itself was sucking what little moisture was left from her throat. Kathleen’s skin was oily from all the sweating she was doing and she could smell her own body odor. She felt repulsive. She felt like one of those homeless people she sometimes saw hanging around the interstate ramp holding a sign that stated they would work for food although Kathleen doubted that was the case. If those vagrants were willing to work, they would have money for food. It infuriated Kathleen to see people too lazy to work. It infuriated her even more to see people giving those vagrants money. Why would the vagrants need to get a job when people were ignorant enough to roll down their car windows and hand money out? Plus, those vagrant types always seem to bring the worse with them and then people complain about the crime in their town. It was Kathleen’s belief that if you don’t want wild, potentially dangerous animals to keep hanging around your town, stop feeding them.
Out of the corner of her eye, a motion caught Kathleen’s attention. She turned her head and saw a light green lizard crawling across the concrete floor just a few feet outside her cage. She watched with interest as the small reptile scurried across the dusty floor in search of small insects on which to dine on, intermediately stopping just long enough to bob its head up and down and puff out its bright orange dewlap just in case a potential mate was watching. The lizard carefully search through each small patch of greenery growing out of the cracks in the concrete floor, but it wasn’t having much luck finding anything to eat. Kathleen gave the hungry lizard a compassionate, understanding grin. She knew what it was like to be hungry and not have anything to eat. But at least the small reptile had an opportunity to find something to eat. It wasn’t trapped inside a cage. It still had its freedom. Kathleen found herself envying the lizard. She scoffed loudly. Being jealous of a lizard only accentuated how bad a situation she was in.
Kathleen watched the reptile with more interest than the average person would have given to the creature, unless that person was a herpetologist. Among everything else, Kathleen was also starved for entertainment. Her days were usually packed full of activities. She hardly ever stopped going. If she wasn’t sleeping, she was doing something. Going to school. Hanging out with her friends. Going to the gym. Going shopping. Sitting in a courtroom watching the theatrics of a trial. And when she did have a few minutes of free time, she was on her cell phone.
Kathleen ardently watched as the lizard continued to forge for insects, slowly inching closer and closer to her cage. When it eventually reached the four inch high edge of Kathleen’s cage, the lizard stopped momentarily before crawling up into the cage. It then cautiously started crawling across the metallic floor, realizing the ground it had been crawling over had changed.
As Kathleen watched the lizard cross the center of her cage, her stomach growled. She knew exactly what her stomach was thinking and it made her sick.
“Forget it! Even if I had the strength to chase after a lizard, even if I had the speed to catch a lizard, I’m not going to eat a lizard! We’re not that desperate yet.” She then stomped her foot hard on the cage floor. “Run boy! Run for your life.”
Startled, the lizard made a sharp ninety degree turn and ran out of the cage. It didn’t stop running until it found safety under one of the columns of wooden pallets. Kathleen grew sad. Her entertainment had fled. For some time, she continued to watch the place where the lizard had vanished into, but the reptile didn’t offer an encore performance.
As the day drug on, Kathleen’s need for liquid grew. As hard as she tried, she couldn’t concentrate on anything but her thirst. The side effects of dehydration didn’t make her task of trying not to think about how thirsty she was any easier. It was like trying to ignore a bumble bee buzzing in your ear. She wasn’t sure how much more of this she could take. She was trying so hard to stay strong, but it wasn’t getting her anywhere. She was beginning to believe her stubborn attempt to stay strong was going to eventually kill her. Wouldn’t it be easier to give in to her abductor? Wouldn’t it be easier to give him what he wanted?
“No!” Kathleen stated with assertiveness.
Just then, the green door opened.
“How are you doing, Princess?”
“What do you care?”
“Still feisty, I see.” The kidnapper walked up to the outside of the cage and stood next to Kathleen who was still sitting. He spoke softly, almost in a whisper, as though he didn’t want anyone but Kathleen to hear him. “Listen. You don’t look very well. You’re dehydrated and hungry. You’re dark around your eyes. You look weak. You don’t have to suffer like this. You have the power to end all of this. Why don’t you? Stop being so stubborn. End this.”
“End this? By having sex with you, right? Let me see if I have your proposal correct. I have sex with you and then you just let me go?”
Kathleen’s kidnapper nodded his head once.
“First of all, I don’t believe you’re going to just let me go. Secondly, and I can’t stress this enough, I would rather die than have sex with you.”
“Princess, I admire your tenacity, but you’re not going to win here. Things are just going to get tougher for you. Give in now and you can save yourself from a lot of misery.”
“Bring it!”
“I’m sorry you said that, Princess. Just remember, you asked for it. You could have taken the easy way out. Now you have to suffer even more.”
&nbs
p; Kathleen’s kidnapper stepped back from the cage and began speaking in his normal volume. “It sure stinks around here. You’ve puked and pissed all over the place and I can smell you from here. I think it’s time we clean you up a bit.”
The kidnapper left, but returned after just a few minutes. He was dragging one end of a garden hose behind him with an oscillating sprinkler attached to it. The other end of the hose ran outside the green door. The kidnapper placed the sprinkler just a few feet outside of Kathleen’s cage and walked back outside the factory. After a few seconds, the garden hose swelled up and water began spraying from the sprinkler. Kathleen’s kidnapper returned to the sprinkler and began messing with its adjustment knob until he adjusted the spray of the sprinkler to where it only oscillated from the back of Kathleen’s cage to the front of the cage.
“Enjoy,” Kathleen’s captor said and left, closing the green door as much as he could without pinching the garden hose.
The cold water from the sprinkler spraying all over Kathleen was refreshing and highly welcomed by the thirsty girl. She got up on her knees, opened her mouth wide, and filled her mouth with water. She drank water this way until she couldn’t hold another drop. She was now completely soaked from head to toe and the old adage, “When life gives you lemons, make lemonade” entered her head. Kathleen stood up and began bathing herself. She scrubbed her face and body with her hands and then combed out her matted hair by raking her fingers through it. She was beginning to feel human again. She couldn’t understand why her abductor would have set the sprinkler up. This wasn’t making her suffer. It was reviving her. Kathleen laid on her back in the middle of her cage and enjoyed the cool, invigorating water from the sprinkler raining down on her. Her thirst was gone and the heat of the day was no longer a factor. What was her captor thinking?
An hour passed. It was now early afternoon and the day was still hot, yet Kathleen shivered. The shower of water that had been so revitalizing was now dropping Kathleen’s body temperature. She was getting cold and the freezing night was not yet upon her. This is what her kidnapper had in mind. This was how she was to suffer. Kathleen’s abductor was willing to give his prisoner a few moments of relief in exchange for a night of misery. Kathleen remembered how cold it had gotten the previous night, but she wasn’t drenched then like she was now. Dread filled Kathleen’s heart.
Kathleen stood up and tried to find a spot in her cage where the water did not reach, but her kidnapper had positioned the sprinkler perfectly. Kathleen couldn’t escape the relentlessness of the cold water. It fell upon every inch of her cage. She could do nothing but sit down in a tight ball and try to stay as warm as she could.
Water dripped from the strands of Kathleen’s hair. It dripped from her nose. It dripped from her earlobes. It dripped off her chin. It ran down her goose bump riddled skin and onto the metal floor of the cage where it slowly flowed through the cage bars and onto the concrete floor of the abandoned factory. There, the water pooled all around the cage. Over the next few hours, Kathleen watched as the pool surrounding her cage slowly expanded across the floor of the factory turning the dusty floor into a shallow lake. She imagined her lizard friend had fled, forced to find higher, dryer ground.
Another wave of uncontrollable shivers was cascading through Kathleen’s body when she noticed two doves, in her direct line of sight, fly onto the window frame of one of the high factory windows. The doves perched inside the glassless window and tucked their wings into their sides, their coos echoing throughout the quiet factory. Kathleen watched the two birds as they preened and aligned their feathers with their beaks in between fluffing out their feathers where their whole body would shake intensely in an attempt to remove dander, dust, and any small parasites that might be trapped between their feathers.
When they were finished, the two doves spread their wings, jumped from their perch, swooped down, and landed on top of a lone wooden pallet lying on the factory floor just a few yards from Kathleen’s cage. One of the doves cautiously walked to the edge of the pallet while the other stayed behind and watched. For a few seconds, the braver dove looked down at the water that surrounded the pallet, its head continuously darting in every direction, being very wary and keeping his eyes out for any potential danger or hungry predators. The dove then bent down and quickly dipped its beak into the water and then raised its head in the air and swallowed. It then took another drink. The other dove, seeing that no harm had come to its partner, moved to the edge of the pallet and began drinking as well. Kathleen grinned unselfishly. She was pleased that out of her discomfort, something was finding pleasure. That two innocent creatures were benefiting from her misery. That something good was coming out of her kidnapper’s evil ploy to make her suffer.
After getting their fill of water, the two doves flew across the factory and out of the window. Kathleen was sad to see them go. It took her mind off how cold she was. And she also didn’t feel so alone while the doves were there. She didn’t feel like the whole world had abandoned her and the only two living things left on the planet was her and her kidnapper…and a lizard.
Kathleen shivered again and was about to stand up and start moving around her cage to get some warm blood flowing through her body when she heard the cooing of the doves again. She looked up at the window and saw the two doves sitting back inside the window frame. And then in the window to the right of the doves, two more doves appeared. And to the right of them, two more. And then more. Before long, there were doves sitting inside eight of the factory windows. The first two doves flew down to the wooden pallet followed by the rest of the doves. All the birds moved to the edge of the pallet and began dipping their beaks into the water. Kathleen’s smile returned. She was surprised at how much joy watching birds drink water was bringing her and her eyes swelled up with tears. Maybe it was their absolute innocence or perhaps their peaceful freedom that made Kathleen so emotional. Whichever it was, Kathleen wished she was one of those doves. Not just because she was locked inside a cage and they weren’t. But because their life seemed so simple. So peaceful. So unhurried. A life to be envious of without the constant struggle to be perfect.
One of the doves found the courage to step down from the wooden pallet and into the water. The water level was only a couple inches deep, nevertheless, the dove began taking a bath, splashing its wings in the water, trying to get as much of its body wet as it could. Before long, the other doves joined in on the bathing. And then one by one they hopped back on top of the wooden pallet and began fluttering the excess water off their bodies splattering each other in the process causing the birds to have to continue to flutter, seemingly unaware why they weren’t getting dry. Kathleen chuckled at the comical birds.
Kathleen began to reminisce about the time she had a canary as a pet. She was ten and the canary’s name was Birdie. Birdie seldom made any noise. Hardly ever sang until one day Kathleen set Birdie and his bird cage outside on the back porch to get some fresh air. A couple of wild canaries landed in an oak tree growing next to the porch. Birdie spotted them and began singing louder than Kathleen had ever heard him sing. He started flapping his wings excitedly and jumping about his cage frantically trying to get the other canaries’ attention. But the wild birds just flew away leaving Birdie hanging on the side of his cage watching until the other canaries were out of sight. Birdie returned to the middle of his perch and never utter another sound. He stopped eating and drinking and his feathers started falling out. Then came the morning when Kathleen looked inside the cage and found Birdie dead on the bottom of his cage. Kathleen’s mother said Birdie had grieved himself to death. At the time, Kathleen was too young to understand what her mother meant, but now she knew all too well how Birdie was feeling.
Eventually, the doves were dry enough that they all flew away at the same time. All of the birds flew out the windows leaving Kathleen behind. She so wanted to fly off with the flock of doves, but she was trapped in her own cage just as Birdie had been. But Kathleen was determined to be stronger t
han Birdie was. Birdie gave up. She would not.
Another day was drawing to an end. Another day in a cage. The temperature was dropping as rapidly as the daylight was disappearing and Kathleen was soaked and freezing. The ruthless sprinkler continued to mercilessly pound her with cold water. It wasn’t only physically draining, but mentally draining as well. The time between Kathleen’s involuntary, whole-body shivers was lessening. Her teeth were chattering so hard, she feared she was going to chip them. Her hands and feet were wrinkled and began to ache due to all the water her skin was absorbing.
Kathleen laid over on her side in a fetal position in the middle of her water soaked cage in an attempt to conserve as much body heat as she could. She tucked her legs into her chest and tightly wrapped her arms around them. She laid in this position and watched the last of the light vanish from the old factory.
You have the power to end this. That’s what Kathleen’s kidnapper told her and those were the words that kept badgering Kathleen. A small voice inside Kathleen’s head was using those words against her.
“Kathleen, just call out to him and all this misery will end for us.”
“No. I can’t do that.”
“We can’t keep going on like this. It’s just going to get worse. You can make it stop. Call out to him.”
“I won’t. It would mean he won.”
“This isn’t about winners or losers. It’s about our life. It’s about all this suffering we don’t have to endure. Just call out to him.”
“I will not. I would rather die.”
“Are you really willing to die? I don’t think we’re that brave. Just do what he wants and it will be over. What’s the big deal?”
“You know what the big deal is. Besides, how do we know we can trust him? What if we give him what he wants and he doesn’t let us go? What if he plans on killing us afterwards? Think about it. Why would he let us go and risk being caught? He has to know we would go straight to the police.”
“We must take that chance. I don’t want to die. Call to him, Kathleen. Call to him now!”
“NOOO!” Kathleen screamed out loud. The small voice fell silent.
Kathleen was now shivering constantly. Her body ached from the coldness of the water. Her nose ran profusely, but she made no attempt to wipe it. Water ran into her ear, yet she made no endeavor to empty it. She didn’t want to move. She didn’t have the strength to move. Even when her bladder became full, she made no attempt to find a place to go. What was the use? She knew there was no place to relieve herself inside her prison. With no feeling of shame, Kathleen allowed her bladder to empty where she laid. She figured the constant shower of water would wash everything away.
Moonlight began pouring through the factory windows, shimmering off the surface of the water like millions of sparkling diamonds. It was so beautiful. So peaceful. So tranquil. Kathleen allowed her mind to drift away from her tortured body.
She began to think of her family and friends. They all meant so much to her, but she wondered if any of them knew it. Kathleen had never been the type to express her feelings. Nor did she feel comfortable when someone was expressing their feelings for her. She preferred that everyone keep their sentiments to themselves and just take each other’s love for granted. It was easier that way. Less sappiness. She supposed it was a characteristic she inherited from her father and later adopted by her mother.
Kathleen’s father wasn’t an affectionate father. He didn’t give out many hugs and kisses. He never expressed his feelings unless he was disappointed in someone. And he didn’t like someone being overly sentimental or what he referred to as sappiness. This included any form of physical contact while in public. A quick handshake was acceptable. At home, hugs were scarce and quick. Kisses were even rarer, limited to a quick peck on the forehead. Words of affections were nearly nonexistent. And this wasn’t only how he treated his children. Kathleen couldn’t ever remember witnessing her father and mother engaged in any form of affection in front of her. Sometimes she wondered how she and her brother ever came into existence. Yet, despite all this, somehow Kathleen knew her father loved her. She hoped her father knew she loved him too.
Kathleen’s mother was the affectionate one, at least she was before she changed. Kathleen could remember a time when her mother used to smother her with hugs and kisses. Back when Kathleen was a little girl. Kathleen recalled how she and her mother would sit in bed and talk about all that happened that day while her mother lovingly combed out her daughter’s hair. And then she would tuck her daughter into bed, kiss her on the cheek, and tell her how much she loved her. Kathleen’s only response would always be a simple smile. She couldn’t remember ever telling her mother she loved her. Not verbally. She just assumed her mother knew.
But then things changed with Kathleen’s mother. With the threat from the law firm that her husband could lose everything if his family didn’t adhere to the law firm’s strict code of conduct, Kathleen’s mother changed from a loving person to a strict dictator. Kathleen understood her mother had to change for the good of her family, but she didn’t understand why there wasn’t enough room in her mother’s life to be both an affectionate person and a warden of manners.
Kathleen then thought of her brother. Despite being raised under the iron hand of his mother and the callous heart of his father, Johnathan was surprisingly affectionate, especially when he was younger. He express his feelings freely and shamelessly. He told his family “I love you” every chance he got even though his family seldom returned his terms of affection. But, as he grew older, Johnathan did become less affectionate. But don’t all children become less affectionate when they become teenagers? At least that’s what Kathleen told herself. She hoped her mother’s constant badgering wasn’t breaking her brother’s spirit. A flower of caring without the warm light of tenderness can start to whither under the shadow of apathy.
Kathleen’s mind then drifted to thoughts of regret. She regretted not going to Disney World with her family. She regretted not knowing for certain if her family knew she loved them. She regretted how she treated people. She wasn’t always as nice as she could have been. Her father often told Kathleen she was better than everyone else, smarter than everyone else, prettier than everyone else and she took it to heart. She developed an air of arrogance at a young age that stuck with her. She felt superior than most of the people she met, especially if they were lower down on the financial totem pole than she was and she had an ugly habit of treating such people as subordinates. A part of her always felt bad afterwards when she belittled someone, but she couldn’t stop doing it, especially when she was around her friends. She enjoyed showing off in front of her friends and, if Kathleen was forced to admit the truth, it gave her a feeling of satisfaction when she was ridiculing someone. She knew in her heart it wasn’t right, but it was who she was. She felt it was her part in the stage play of life she was supposed to play in order to keep the universe in balance. For every nice person, there had to be a mean one. For every oppressor, there had to be ones who suffered. For every courageous person, there had to be a timid one. For every winner, there had to be a loser. For every antagonist, there had to be a victim.
But, still, sometimes when Kathleen was alone with her own thoughts, she regretted treating people as she did. She had been the catalyst that caused many an innocent girl to cry, especially when Kathleen played her part as the bully in middle school and high school. From defiling a young girl’s face with a black magic marker simply because the girl wore pigtails to school to bashing a virtuous girl’s reputation by convincing the whole school she was sleeping with the principal just because the girl was competing against Kathleen for head cheerleader. Kathleen played her role with ferociousness. Her reputation proceeded her as she walked down the hallways of her school, everyone hoping not to catch her attention, not wanting to be her next victim. Kathleen lavished the power she had, but it was a lonely position. She had a small band of “friends” who were part of her gang, but she often wo
ndered if they were actually her friends or if they merely stayed by her side to keep from being caught in her line of fire.
Once Kathleen started attending college, her juvenile bullying ceased, at least the physical part of it. She still engaged in belittling and chastising a person when the opportunity arose and she surrounded herself with friends who enjoyed looking down their noses at the common folks and appreciated engaging in some berating. Like the young waitress they berated a few nights back. Kathleen should have felt sympathy for the waitress when the shy girl broke down and started crying, but she didn’t. Instead, Kathleen was appalled by the girl’s weakness and was unsympathetic at how easily the girl was brought to tears. In Kathleen’s mind, all her victims needed to be tormented. How else were they going to grow a backbone?
But as Kathleen laid on the floor of her prison, curled up in a tight ball, shivering uncontrollably, she couldn’t help but admit that she had become the one thing she swore she would never become. She was a victim. She could no longer deny it. A victim of circumstance, she told herself. In the wrong place at the wrong time. She was finding it difficult to stay strong. She felt as if she was losing pieces of herself the longer she stayed locked up in her cage. Pieces of herself that kept her tenacious, tough, and unyielding. Those pieces seemed to be slowing dissolving and flowing out of her cage, out of reach, and disappearing into the darkness. She wanted desperately to hold on to those pieces, but she was losing her will to stay strong. She was losing her will to even try.
Trying to curl herself into an even tighter ball while allowing her mind to entertain the notion that death would be a welcomed alternative to the suffering she was currently enduring, Kathleen felt the water from the merciless sprinkler stop. She felt instant relief. Not much, but any little amount of relief was spirit-lifting. She laid in the middle of her cage the rest of the night praying the sprinkler would stay off and, somehow, she fell asleep.
Breaking Point (Short Story) Page 5