Pulled Back Again

by Danielle Bannister

  Ms. Skillings comes over to me and rubs my shoulder, nodding some unspoken gesture of understanding. She probably thinks Jada and I had a fight. How much do I wish it were only that?

  “I could go and come right back, if you need me to,” she offers.

  “No. It’s fine. Thank you. Thank you for staying with Janelle. I’m sorry to have put you out.”

  The courtesies I utter come without any forethought. Jada still hasn’t come back! I have to call the police.

  Ms. Skillings looks from me to Janelle and frowns, clearly not wanting to leave us. With a sigh, she pulls her light-pink cardigan closed before she says her good-byes to Janelle. Her slight hunched back makes her waddle like a penguin when she walks toward the door.

  The moment she steps inside her apartment, I turn to Janelle.

  “Nell, peanut, Papa just needs to make a quick call, okay?”

  She nods at me and continues watching her show.

  As fast as I can, I run upstairs and into our bedroom and press 9-1-1.

  “9-1-1, what’s your emergency?”

  My throat tightens, but I force out the words. “I need to report a missing person.”

  “How old is the person, sir?”

  “She’s twenty-one. Look, I think she’s been kidnapped—”

  “When did she go missing?” The operator’s voice is measured, rehearsed. She’s reading from a script of scenarios. It’s maddening, but I play along so they’ll track her down.

  Letting out a great exhalation, I tell her she’s been missing since nine o’clock yesterday morning.

  “I’m sorry, sir. Until she’s been missing for a full forty-eight hours, there is nothing we can do.”

  “What?” I scream. “I’m telling you my girlfriend has been kidnapped and you tell me there’s nothing you can do?”

  “I’m sorry, sir. Have you tried calling her e-port?”

  I grit my teeth trying to be calm. “She doesn’t have it on her. I’m telling you, she was kidnapped by a convicted felon. He was with her in my house yesterday morning. They went for a walk and they never came back!”

  Even as I say it, I realize how the operator is going to interpret what I’ve just said. She doesn’t believe Jada was kidnapped; she just thinks I’ve been dumped.

  “Argh!” I hang up on the operator before she hangs up on me.

  Just then, the intercom goes off downstairs.

  Please be Jada!

  Flying down the stairs, I tap the screen by the door with my finger, springing it to life. As soon as the image appears, my heart falls. It’s not Jada. It’s Kari. But why? I press the talk button.

  “Kari? What are you doing here?”

  She looks up at the camera overhead. Her face looks like she hasn’t slept in days. I know the feeling. She doesn’t look at all like the middle-aged women we visited at Ma’s funeral. She looks at least ten years older.

  “Can I come up?” Her voice is tired and clearly laced with worry.

  “Of course.” I buzz her in. “We’re on the fourth floor. Elevator’s out. Number 415.”

  Pacing along the floor, I weigh my options. Janelle comes over and raises her arms, wanting a good cuddle. Scooping her into my arms, I press her close to me, suppressing the cough that’s trying to escape my lips. Slowly, Janelle rubs her hand across my chest, the same way she does with Jada’s scar.

  “Does it hurt, Papa?”

  I try not to cry at her question. “No, baby girl. You helped me get my medicine.” I kissed her head and she smiles. “Nell, baby, how did you know I needed to have my mask on?”

  She just shrugs her tiny shoulders and points to her head.

  “I saw in here what would make you feel better.”

  Confused, I lower her off my hip to the floor and bend down beside her to look her in the eye.

  “You saw my breathing machine? In your head?” I can’t believe I’m actually asking this of my daughter.

  “Uh-huh.” She rubs at her nose. “I see all sorts of things up here.”

  Just then there is a knock at the door, and I almost jump out of my skin. Janelle claps her hands and runs to the door, but I hold her back. Cautiously, I open the door just a crack to make sure it really is Kari.

  Her windswept, newly grayed hair confirms her identity, so I open the door all the way.

  Kari rushes into the apartment, out of breath from the stupid stairs. I notice right away that she has dark circles under her eyes, the kind you get from days of worry. I know those circles well.

  “Did you get my message? Is everyone okay? Did he show up here?” Kari’s eyes flick down to Janelle, who smiles up at her.

  “Oh, baby girl!” Kari beams. “Peanut! How much you’ve grown!”

  Janelle hugs onto the edge of my pant leg, not hiding, but more trying to figure out where she’s seen Kari before.

  “This was Grammy’s friend, Miss Kari,” I tell her, rubbing the top of her curls.

  Janelle nods as though in recognition, then says, “She misses you.”

  “Who?” Kari and I say at the same time.

  Janelle giggles. “Grammy. She misses Ms. Kari.”

  Tears begin to well up in Kari’s eyes. “I miss her too, pumpkin.”

  Knowing I need to have an adult conversation without little ears picking up what we’re saying, I take out Janelle’s e-sketch pad and set her on the couch to draw. It’s her most favorite thing to do and will easily keep her occupied for several minutes while we talk.

  After she’s set up, Kari and I walk to the kitchen where I put on water to make us some tea.

  “Where’s Jada?” Kari asks as soon as she’s seated.

  This time, the tears well up in my eyes. I don’t even know how to tell her what happened without completely breaking down in front of my daughter.

  “He took her,” I whisper. It’s all I can get out before I know I’ll lose my shit. Even with that, though, I collapse into Kari’s arms and sob uncontrollably as I recount the hell we’ve been through since Hawk darkened our doorstep.

  I have lost all ability to remain rational or calm about this anymore. She’s been gone far too long for me to think everything is going to turn out okay. The worse case scenarios won’t stop playing through my mind.

  “I don’t know where she is.” I moan softly into Kari’s shoulder.

  “I do.”

  Janelle’s voice resonates even across the room. Instantly, I pull myself together and wipe at my tear-soaked cheeks.

  “You do what, baby girl?” Kari asks for me.

  “I know where Mommy is.”

  Kari looks at me; her eyebrows rise in confusion.

  Crossing over to where Janelle is drawing, I sink onto the couch beside her. The red pleather nearly swallows me up. I twirl a lock of her hair around my finger, trying to validate her opinion.

  “Oh yeah?” I say, putting on my best “interested” voice. It cracks a bit, but I continue. “Where is your mommy?”

  She bunches up her porcelain face and closes her eyes. “It’s dark there,” she begins. I know she’s just making the story up as she goes, but the words send chills up my spine anyway. “She misses us, Papa.” Janelle looks up at me with the saddest eyes I’ve ever seen on her. I start to tear up, knowing how true her statement is, but before the tears can fall, Janelle continues. “Don’t cry, Papa. Daddy is with her. He’s taking care of her.”

  She gives me a kiss on the cheek and scrambles out of my grasp and goes back to her tablet.

  Kari and I look at each other, dumbstruck.

  “Janelle, pumpkin, how do you know its dark where your mama is?” Kari asks carefully, taking a step into the living room.

  My skin starts to tingle in anticipation of her answer. After all, she did hit the nail on the head about Hawk showing up yesterday and about her grandmother passing away... Maybe she has some sort of a gift?

  Janelle continues coloring a picture of what I think is a cat. “I can see it.” She taps the tablet pen against h
er lip, like she does when she’s concentrating. “She wants us to come get her, Papa. Can we?”

  The tears fall this time. “Baby girl... if I knew where she was, I’d bring her home to you right this second.”

  Janelle’s eyes light up with the possibility.

  “I can draw it!” she squeals, tapping her screen for a blank page.

  Despite all logic, I find myself holding my breath to find out what she comes up with.

  Jada

  I survived the night. I’m not sure how, but I’m still here. Still stuck in this hell that I can’t wake up from.

  Although the room is still dark, I can tell the sun is about to rise. A pale sheen of gray manages to worm its way around the covered-up blinds—tiny rays of hope.

  I shiver against the cold morning air. The thin blanket draped over me does little to provide my soul any real warmth. Of course, the chill might be coming from what’s on the other side of the bed, too. Although he radiates heat in his sleep, I refuse to get closer to him than our bound wrists force me to be.

  After he attached himself to me so I could eat yesterday, he decided he liked being connected to me. He told me he liked the feel of my skin against his. I wanted to tell him how repulsed I was each time we touched, but I’ve learned that the look in his eyes can turn murderous in a flash. If I am going to survive this—if I want to see my family again—I need to bite my tongue and do what he says.

  Even though I’m awake and my body is begging me to stretch, I remain frozen. I don’t want to risk waking up Hawk before I have to. I even ignore wiping away the crusty residue on my face from all the dried-up tears. My bladder is full again, but again, I ignore it.

  I’ll experience the humiliation of having to ask to go to the bathroom soon enough. Yesterday he tied me to the radiator and watched me pee in a bowl on the floor. The arrogant look in his eyes confirmed that he got off on my dependence on him for even the most basic of human needs. It was a look that told me the worst of this was yet to come.

  Beside me he stirs, seemingly awakened by my traitorous thoughts. Quickly, I force my lids shut and pray he’ll just go back to sleep.

  Instead, he notices the gap between us, grunts, then curls up against me. Pretending I’m still asleep, I let him wrap his arm around me and hold back the urge to kick away from him.

  Somehow against the rhythm of his heavy breathing, I slip back into sleep. I dream of Janelle. My baby. My angel. I know she isn’t real. But the feeling of my daughter’s hands wrapped around my neck is so powerful that I want to stay asleep forever.

  I miss you, she whispers in my hair. I miss you more, I murmur back to her. Just like that, her curls shrink away. Her soft angelic face shifts into Hawk’s deadly glare.

  It’s my screaming that wakes us both.

  “Damn, baby, you could wake the dead with a scream like that,” Hawk says, rubbing his eyes with his free hand.

  Fresh tears start running down my face despite my desire not to cry in front of him. Hawk curls against me and starts to wipe them away, making me cringe.

  “What’s wrong?” he asks, stroking my hair.

  “I miss my family,” I whimper. “Please, my daughter needs me. Please, just let me go.”

  “I’m your family now,” he says, steel in his eyes. “But don’t worry. So is Janelle. She’ll be with us soon enough.”

  He kicks off his covers, oblivious to what he’s just said.

  “No!” I shout, propping myself on my elbows. “Don’t you dare touch my daughter!” Struggling, I try to hit him with my free hand. Over and over again, my balled-up fist makes contact with his bare chest. I only get a few shots in before he rolls on top of me and pins my arms over my head.

  Panting and breathless, he growls over me.

  “She’s my daughter too.”

  Sobbing, I struggle under him, baring my teeth even, trying to make contact with his flesh.

  “Enough!” he shouts. He lifts his hand like he’s going to strike me. His nostrils flare in rage, a rage I’ve seen enough times to know what happens next. I close my eyes against the waiting blow.

  “I think it’s time you’re forced to obey,” he says eventually. I tentatively open my eyes.

  Without hesitation, he grabs my wrists and drags me up to standing. He fishes around in his back pocket and produces a fresh tie to secure me to the radiator.

  “Freshen yourself up. I’ll be right back.”

  I cower in the bed. My legs curl up as close to my body as I can get them.

  “What are you talking about?” my shaking voice pleads.

  He stops. The muscles in his back relax. Turning around, he leans his huge body in the doorjamb. “The first step was getting you here. The next step is making sure you never want to leave.” An evil grin slinks onto his lips. “Since you seem to still be brainwashed by Tobias, I guess I’m gonna have to speed up the process.” He turns again and walks out of the room.

  “What are you talking about?” I screech after him.

  “You’ll see,” his bone-chilling laugh fills my eardrums.

  My body starts to shake, and not from the cold this time.

  Chapter Ten

  Tobias

  “Tobias, you can’t be serious?” Kari asks me for the hundredth time as I make Janelle some scrambled eggs with cheese. I’ve decided that once she comes up with her drawing, I’m going to let her take me to where she thinks her mom is. I know it’s crazy, but it’s the only lead I have.

  “I’m dead serious.” I plate Janelle’s breakfast and put a few slices of melon on the side. Jada loves melon... She ate it every morning. My eyes water at the memory.

  As Janelle eats her breakfast, her tablet still at her side, I take Kari’s elbow and lead her into the living room.

  Keeping my voice low, I motion for her to sit. After a moment, she sinks into the wingback that we saved from my mother’s place before the estate sale. It has a rip on the armrest so it held no value. The auctioneer said I could keep it. All I have left of my mother are the things he deemed worthless. Fortunately for me, the items of her unsellable estate held vaults full of memories no bidder could match.

  “I know it’s hard to believe any of this, but yesterday, before Hawk even showed up, Janelle told me he would be coming.”

  Kari crosses her arms over her wrinkled floral shirt, not believing a word.

  “She said she saw in her head that her ‘daddy’ would be coming to visit. I didn’t believe it either, because who would?” Kari raises her eyebrows and tries to speak, but I hold up my hand. “But look what happened? Jada’s gone, Kari. He took her, and I have no idea where. If there is even a remote chance that Janelle can see where her mother is, then I’m going to take it.”

  Kari’s eyes flick over to Janelle, who is happily munching her fruit. Her little legs dangle over the barstool as she chews. She tucks a curl behind her ear. The gesture reminds me so much of Jada that it makes my heart ache.

  “I have to find her, Kari,” I say. “I have to.”

  Kari gives me a sad smile. “I know you do.” She pats my shoulder. “And we have to talk.”

  Kari crosses her legs nervously in the chair beside me. Her dark, graying hair has been pulled off her pale face and into a messy bun. Several hairs frame her soft jawline. Her eyes wrinkle with worry. Something is on her mind.

  “What’s the matter?” I ask.

  She shifts in her chair. Her long fingers lace in and out of each other.

  “I think I might be the reason Hawk found out where you were in the first place,” she whispers.

  I swallow and take a deep breath. I had kind of assumed that but didn’t want to admit it.

  “What makes you think that?”

  Her hands move to her face as though wiping away the shame of her actions. She stands up and walks over to the window. The way she holds her body reminds me that she’s aged. Since I saw her last at the funeral, she seems to have more slump in her shoulders. Deeper wrinkles have made their hom
e along her forehead. Her once-graceful body now seems more like a burden to her than it once was.

  “I know I shouldn’t have, but I kept the letters your mother wrote to me before she passed.” She lets out a great breath of air as though this statement had been weighing her down for years.

  “What letters?”

  She sighs softly before she meets my gaze.

  “We wrote each other letters. Every week. The paper kind.” She chuckles quietly. “You know your mother. She’d never resort to digital anything, let alone for something as intimate as a letter.”

  A large lump forms in my throat at the mention of my mother. Ma was a stubborn one. She never even got an e-port, never wanted one.

  Kari yanks at the clip holding up her hair and lets it fall down to her shoulders. She rubs at the base of her head, as though trying to relieve the pressure of her secret.

  “I never saw her with any letters...” I say, confused by what this has to do with anything.

  Kari smiles. “That doesn’t surprise me. She knew how paranoid you were. She hid the letters from you because she knew you’d probably flip your lid if you knew she was writing to me.”

  I cock my head, not understanding.

  “Why would I be upset that you were writing to my mother? You guys were friends. There’s nothing wrong with that.”

  “We were writing paper letters, Tobias.”

  “So.”

  Kari gives me a sad smile. “Paper letters require a return address.”

  I close my eyes in ignorance. Of course.

  “He found the letters?”

  She lets out a huge breath but nods.

  “I know I should have tossed them, but I just couldn’t. They were a part of who she was.” She sniffs. “Driving by her empty house during those months after her death were the hardest. We used to have tea every morning. Did you know that?”

  A fat tear trickles down her face.

  “No, I didn’t.”

  Turning from the window, she slowly sits back down in the chair. Her confession is over.

  “I’m not upset that you kept them. She would have wanted it that way,” I say, wiping the wetness from my own eyes.