She doesn’t say anything more. She gets up and pours me from the pot a large bowl of potato soup and grabs a few warm rolls from the microwave. “I expect you to eat all of it,” she says sternly, gazing at me. “I’m going to bed, but I put a few pillows and a blanket on the couch for you. Don’t worry about the dishes; I’ll clean up in the morning.”
She heads off to bed. I immediately dig into my soup, burning my tongue with the hotness of the liquid. It’s thick and creamy on my tongue, tasting of cheese and soft potato, mixed with an array of vegetables and herbs. It’s delicious. I finish that and the rolls off in minutes. When I have a full stomach I put my empty bowl in the sink and go to lay down on the couch.
I expect to drop off immediately, but my mind is racing. If Rosemary could’ve said something to Dolly in order to get away, why didn’t she? She knew I was trying to rescue her. She couldn’t not know. She knows I would do anything for her...right?
My mind repeats the fight. Did Rosemary take that as a breakup? I didn’t think there was anything in this world I would ever leave Rosemary for, but even if there was an argument definitely wasn’t one of them. But did that fight make her think I didn’t care about her?
I take a ragged breath. And then there was the fact that she was with her father. She had seen him hit me, but had she been so angry and upset after our fight that she didn’t care that I was hurt? No, no, that was a stupid idea. Rosemary hated her father, didn’t she?
But then what if she didn’t? It had been years since she had seen him. Was there something in her that longed for his affection, something that was big enough to make her stay? Could Dolly possibly be right? Did she not want to be found?
I shake my head at the ridiculous idea and punch my pillow into a more comfortable position. These pointless wonders wouldn’t solve anything, not right now. My main priority was to get her back, and then I would ask her these annoying questions.
The thing was, I wasn’t sure if I would like the answers.
*
I’m starting to doze off. The lights flicker in and out of my vision, glowing and narrowing as we whirl by signs and buildings, cars passing us at a ridiculous rate.
“When are we going to stop?” I ask, turning my head slowly to look at Jack. I would fall asleep here but I cannot...I want to make sure I know my way home if I do manage to make it out of here.
“Soon,” he says. “We’re nearly there.”
“There is no way that getting to Detroit takes this long,” I say.
“We’re not going to Detroit.”
“That’s what you told Dolly,” I said, sitting up to look at him.
“I lied to her, Rose,” Jack says. “If she finds out we’re on the run and she alerts the police, they’ll find us. We won’t be in Detroit, we’re stopping in Ann Arbor. It’s close by and large enough that it’ll take them all night to search every hotel, and by then we’ll be long gone.”
“Unfortunately.” I let out a yawn and say, “We’re going to Dearborn, aren’t we? That’s our final stop.”
He doesn’t look at me. “How did you guess?”
“It’s the only home you’ve ever known.” I pause. “And the only place that you ever had a home with me.”
He scratches his beard. “How much do you remember about the divorce?”
“Not much.” I shrug. “A few fights mostly.”
“That’s good,” he says.
“Was it bad?” I ask, fully awake now. Mom never talked about the divorce, no matter how many times I asked her.
“It wasn’t easy,” he says. “It’s probably a good thing that you don’t remember much.”
“I mostly remember the good times,” I say. “Like going to the park with you.”
“You still remember that?” He smiles.
“Every time. I remember that we always used to get ice cream afterward, and this one time this boy who was bigger than me stole my sundae when I wasn’t looking,” the story falls out of my mouth, trickles out like water about to burst forth from a dam. “You went to buy me another one but I said I didn’t want that one...”
“So you pushed the little boy down and said you’d walk all the way home.” Jack laughs, and unexpectedly out of my chest bursts a small chuckle.
“Oh my gosh, remember the time when the landlord came to the apartment and was all pissed because we hadn’t paid in three months?” I burst.
“Yes, and remember what we were wearing? We had gotten back from your grandpa’s farm, and we were all covered in dirt and holes! He wrinkled up his nose an looked at us like we were wet dogs!”
“What did he say? Wasn’t it something like, ‘I know
your kind
isn’t very responsible, but I’ll have to evict you if you don’t pay soon.”
“Something like that,” Jack smiles. “What did I say back to him?”
“I remember! You said, ‘Sorrah that we be so be
hind
on the rent meester, but we be po!’”
Now we’re both in hysterics. I go to wipe the tears from my eyes until I think
what am I doing?
This man has
kidnapped
me. I shouldn’t even be speaking to him, let alone sharing a laugh with them. Wiping the grin off my face, I say, “Well. You know, that was a long time ago. Things are a lot different now.”
“They are,” Jack says. There’s a bit of silence before he asks, “So what are you studying in school?”
“Agricultural science,” I say. “I want to work with something that involves farming, but I don’t necessarily want to be a farmer.”
“You always did love the outdoors, even when you were little,” Jack says. “You’d never want to stay inside. It was always, ‘Daddy, take me to the park,’ or, ‘Daddy, let’s go play outside.’”
“I’m like that now. I can’t stand being inside.”
“I don’t like the indoors either. I prefer being in the fresh air.”
“I didn’t know that.” My hand flies to my necklace, the one Noah got me, and I grip it tight. Inwardly a small part of me that I thought died long ago starts glowing, but I snuff it out. “I love plants and nature. My favorite class in high school was botany. I’m really good at growing things. Even green’s my favorite color,” I put in.
“I know that.” Jack pauses. “When you were three, you told me green was your favorite color after I told you it was mine.”
“Did I?” I ask. He nods and a sick feeling enters my stomach. His eyes glance to the necklace I’m still holding and he asks, “Who got that for you?”
I bite my lip. “Noah.” Tears well up in my eyes. “The boy that you ran over.”
Guilt crosses over his face. “I am so sorry Rose. I regret doing that, but he drove right in front of me. There was no time to stop or swerve.”
“You can’t say you’re sorry now,” I say, and all my anger and hate towards my father returns. “He’s dead. You killed somebody I loved, and I will never forgive you for that.”
“He’s probably not dead, Rose,” Jack says. “I hit him, but when I glanced behind in my rearview mirror he was still moving. He’s probably just really banged up.”
A spurt of hope rises up in me. Could Noah really be alive? “You’re not lying, just to make me feel better?”
“I’ve never lied to you in my life Rose. Never. And if you want we can check on the Internet when we get to the hotel, to see there’s any news.”
The thought of Noah being alive and well was enough to make me start dancing. The bad thing was, it was even harder being mad at Jack now. “We’ll see,” I say as a final statement.
The minute we pull into the hotel and have our room, I rush down to the computer in the lobby downstairs. Jack hustles after me, at enough of a distance to give me space but close enough so I know not to run. The minute I reach the computer I type my name in the search bar and start looking.
Immediately dozens of links pull up. I click on the first one and it’s a lengthy article about my abduction and a description of my father. There’s nothing about Noah. I scan article after article, all containing the same details with nothing about my boyfriend. My heart begins to sink. Then, out of nowhere, the words
Noah Cash
pop out at me from the last sentence of one article.
“Noah Cash, the boyfriend of Rosemary McGowan, was injured during the abduction,”
I read aloud in a whisper.
“He is currently in the hospital with minor injuries, and doctors expect him to make a full recovery.”
This article was dated two days ago. So it’s true. Noah
is
alive. But now that I know this, my heart begins to sink. If Noah was alive and well, was he out there looking for me? Was he trying to get me back, or had he considered me lost and abandoned the whole idea, if it had ever crossed his mind? Had that one big fight been enough for him to give up on me completely?
“There. Are you satisfied?” Jack asks me. I nod and we head up to our room, me collapsing on my double bed the minute I reach it.
Noah was alive.
Noah was alive.
It was enough to make me sing. And with only minor injuries! I had gotten lucky. Now that I knew Noah was okay, I knew that I had to do my best to escape, to make it back to him and apologize. He must be worried out of his mind!
...Or was he? My stomach wriggled. If that fight wasn’t enough to chase Noah away, perhaps my father hitting him with the car was. Maybe he finally realized how crazy the McGowan's were and had wised up enough to decide not to spend anymore time with them. Was he already moving on?
Jack closes the door shut behind him. I’m not sure. But now my desire to escape didn’t just seem like a silly wish, it seemed like a priority. I couldn’t fight off Jack, I knew that much. I would have to outwit him.
He brings out the handcuffs from his pocket and my heart sinks. Really? Would I have to do this? “I’m sorry Rose,” he states. “But I don’t want to take anymore chances.” He takes my hand and fastens one cuff to my left wrist, and the other to the iron bedpost behind me.
“Why do you have to do this?” I ask him. “Why do you want to keep me locked up?”
“I don’t want to make you my prisoner. But as of right now, I have no choice.” Jack begins slowly taking things out of his bag, setting shampoo, lotion, and various other grooming items all on the side of the bed table that separates us.
“I’m going to take a shower. I won’t be long,” he tells me. He grabs many of the bottles and proceeds to the bathroom, shutting the door so slowly, it’s torturous.
The minute he’s out of sight I immediately begin pulling and yanking on the handcuffs, trying to break myself free. It’s no good. They’re the good kind, and what’s more the bedpost is nailed to the wall. I’m not going anywhere. I try forcing my hand through the circle but it doesn’t budge. I need something to make my hand slick enough to slide through.
I look around and notice that Jack had left a small bottle of lotion on the bedside table. My free hand strains to reach it, the metal digging and cutting into my skin and making my eyes water. My arms aren’t long enough. Improvising, I lean back on the bed and use my foot to move the bottle of lotion close enough for me to snatch. I grab it and pour the lotion all over my hand excessively, slathering it all over my skin. Gritting my teeth, I begin to pull.
It feels like all the bones in my hand are mashing together. I get my hand halfway through the circle before it stops completely, and I put all of my weight into pulling the other way in order to force it out. I muffle a cry of pain as my skin rips and starts to bleed, but I don’t stop. The cuffs etch into my skin, leaving long red marks as I finally rip my fingers free of my binds.
Once my hand is out of the cuff, I pause. I look towards the door where my father is showering, then at the exit into the hall. If I ran away and got caught, what would happen this time? Would Jack lose it for good? The thought of him coming after me, enraged and out of his mind, made me shake. Was it worth the risk?
My necklace dangles in front of me as I lean forward. Noah wouldn’t want me to be a coward. Noah would want me to fight back. And if he’s out there looking for me, I have to find him.
I sneak past the bathroom door slowly, delicately putting one foot in front of the other. I wince when the door clicks as I open it, but don’t stop. Losing all control I fling the door open and start running out onto the open balcony, down the concrete staircase of the hotel and making for the safety of...where? Where on earth was possibly safe from him?
This city’s dark and silent. There aren’t very many places to hide. The hotel attendant has gone to bed for the night. I scan each and every corner, looking for a way out. All the stores are closed. Nobody is open, and there are no homes out here to cry to for mercy. If I could just get to a fast food place, a police station, a hospital, somewhere with a lot of people, I would be okay! But I run and run, and everywhere is abandoned. The entire world has gone missing and it is only me and my father, caught in an endless cat and mouse game underneath a moon that would never fall, looking for a sun that would never rise.
I go through the lot of a car dealership, slowing down to a walk and glancing from side to side. Really, where was everybody? The only thing out here that makes a sound is the buzzing of the light above me, one that gives off an eerie haze upon the asphalt. The light casts a large shadow that isn’t mine...