Life Interrupted

by Yessi Smith

  “The faster we get drunk, the better the movie will be,” Mari says.

  “Don’t get too drunk,” Robert warns. Then, he wiggles his eyebrows at Mari. “I don’t want you passing out before I can have my way with you.”

  “Even if I pass out, I give you permission to have your way with me.” Mari throws her head back in laughter.

  Her laugh is contagious and I follow suit.

  “You’re already drunk!” Travis accuses both of us.

  Mari and I stare at each other, wide-eyed, for a few seconds before we burst into laughter.

  “Are not!” I shoot back.

  Mari defiantly shakes her head at both brothers while Roger connects his computer to Travis’s television.

  “Children,” Robert scolds us with a shake of his head.

  “Can’t take them anywhere,” Travis agrees.

  “Shh!” Roger interrupts us. “It’s starting.”

  “Shh!” I repeat with my forefinger pressed to my lips.

  “It’s starting,” Mari finishes.

  We both laugh while Roger glares at us.

  I hold my hands up in surrender before Roger has the chance to get upset. “We’ll be good.” I try to erase the smile on my face, so he takes me seriously, but I see the sides of his lips twitch into a small smile. “I’m really looking forward to watching Star Wars,” I add.

  His smile widens, showing off his perfect straight white teeth.

  “I’m really looking forward to watching Star Wars?” Travis repeats my words to me while we lie in his bed.

  “It wasn’t bad.” I yawn into my hand and curl my body toward him.

  “You fell asleep five minutes into it.”

  “I did not!”

  “Holly, we could hardly hear the movie over your snoring.”

  “I do not snore,” I say. Do I?

  “The windows were vibrating from how loud you snore.”

  “Shut up!” I cover my face with my hands and kick him underneath the covers.

  “Ow! What the hell?”

  “I don’t snore. Say it! I don’t snore.”

  “Fine, fine. You don’t snore. You also don’t drool.”

  “Oh my God!” I sit up too quickly, making the room spin. Okay, finishing the second bottle of wine when I woke up was a bad idea. “I drool?”

  “And snore.”

  “I’m a real catch.”

  “Especially when you throw your morning breath into the mix.”

  “Stop. Please just stop.” I giggle while he pulls me back down so that I’m lying on top of him. “You’re a lucky guy, Travis Keillar.”

  He kisses my lips, and my body melts, molding against his as I open my mouth to him. With wine-inspired courage, I sit up and straddle him while I lift his shirt. I trace my finger from his chest down to his navel and then shift my body to the side so that I can remove his boxer briefs. I play with the elastic band, not yet ready to pull it down, while he watches me. My tongue slips out, licking my lips before I lower my face and trail kisses where my fingers touched. His heart rate accelerates beneath the palm of my hand while his breathing quickens.

  “Holly,” he breathes my name, as if it were a promise.

  I look back at him, my eyes showing my uncertainty over him giving me control of his body.

  “Holly.” He places his hand on my cheek and leans upward to kiss me. “You’re perfect, so perfect.”

  With a sly smile, I move away from him and start working my fingers down his chest and stomach again until they are running gingerly over the elastic band of his underwear. I take a deep breath, bite my bottom lip, and remove his underwear.

  There, I did it. His cock salutes my bravery, so after a satisfied smile spreads across my lips, my lips part, and I lower my head to his tip and lick once before I put him in my mouth. His moan reaches me and leaves me with a sense of accomplishment.

  A small, exasperated smile spreads across my face when I see Poppa’s number flashing on the screen of my cell phone. I almost don’t answer, but I haven’t spoken to him in a couple of days, and I know he’ll worry if I ignore his call. I get up and walk away from Barbara and Sofia, who are busy building sand castles, and I answer the phone.

  “Hi, Poppa,” I say, shielding my eyes from the sun.

  “Holly? You’re safe?” he asks, his voice ragged, ringing with fear.

  “Poppa! What’s wrong?” I shout loud enough to get Travis’s attention.

  “Your Poppa is fine for now.” The voice on the other end sends immediate fear throughout my body, the same terror that grips me when one of my nightmares takes hold rushes over me.

  With my gut twisting, I gasp for air and find that the ability to speak has vanished. Choking on the words I want to say, Travis takes the phone from me. I don’t hear his words, but somehow, I register Travis’s eyes, which give away his thoughts, and I know Poppa’s in danger.

  “It’s him,” I shout at Travis, shaking, as I try to take the phone away from him.

  He nods his head at me but refuses to give me my phone. “What do we have to do?” he asks, his voice tense, his eyes dark and dangerous.

  I wait for a response and become infuriated when he tells the caller, “No.”

  There’s too much finality in that word.

  “Give me the phone,” I demand, clawing with desperation.

  I ruthlessly hit him, fear striking careless blows, making it easy for him to pin my body to the sand. Crumbling, I squirm beneath his weight, bucking my feet in the air, but he refuses to get off of me. Trapped, I center my thoughts, I steady my mind enough to think. Then, I maneuver my body until he no longer has a firm grip on me, and I barrel into him.

  By the time I have the phone pressed against my ear and am able to speak, the line has gone dead.

  “How could you?” I scream a high-pitched scream full of fury and fear, and I punch Travis in the jaw, causing him to take a few steps backward.

  Livid, I barely see Travis’s family even though they’re standing around us, watching us, probably trying to figure out if they need to intervene.

  “Holly!” he yells at me, grabbing my arms before I can hit him again. “Your grandpa’s fine,” he tries to reassure me.

  I shake my head at him. “He’s got Poppa!”

  “I know,” he says.

  He knows, and he didn’t let me talk to him!

  With my hands firmly in his, I kick him, ready to fight him for his arrogant ignorance that has endangered Poppa’s life even further. We tumble on the sand again, and this time, he holds me down in such a way that I can’t fight him back, so I do the only thing my body can do. I cry.

  Robert tries to get Travis off of me, but Travis pushes him back, making Robert fall with a loud thud. He then pulls me into him for a strong embrace, brushing his lips over my temple as he smoothes my hair back.

  “We’re gonna get him back.” Travis’s soothing voice is in opposition with the fierce look in his eyes and the violent hold he has on my body.

  “How?” I spit at him. “You didn’t let me talk to him! How am I supposed to get Poppa back when you didn’t let me figure out what he wanted?”

  “He wants you, Holly,” Travis whispers, his words suffocating me.

  “Then, he can have me.”

  Travis shakes his head at me.

  “It’s not your decision to make!” I shout, my heart screaming louder than my voice.

  “Enough,” Travis’s voice is stern, so harsh that it stalls me long enough for him to continue talking. “You fighting with me isn’t going to fix anything. Call your friend Derrick and explain to him what’s happened. I’ll get us a flight out of here.”

  Travis gets off of me and stalks past his family, who have remained quiet, and he goes back to his house, leaving me sitting alone on the sand. Not allowing the fear to take me hostage once again, I pull myself off the ground, ready to do whatever’s necessary to get my grandfather back.

  I look apologetically at Barbara and the rest
of Travis’s family, but I don’t have the energy or desire to explain what they just witnessed, so I head back to my own house and call Derrick. With the phone pressed to my ear, I see Barbara walking toward my house. She comes in and puts a reassuring hand on my shoulder. I stiffen under her touch, my emotions bursting, so I begin to count how many times the phone rings.

  One.

  Two.

  Three.

  Four.

  “Derrick,” I whisper into the phone when he answers after the fourth ring. My hands, clammy and sweaty, tremble as my nightmare becomes a reality. “He has Poppa.”

  “What?” Derrick’s voice echoes in my mind.

  I shake my head to clear it of everything but what I have to tell Derrick.

  “Are you sure?”

  “He called me from Poppa’s phone. Poppa sounded so—”

  “Don’t, Holly,” he interrupts me. “Don’t torture yourself by thinking about what Poppa sounded like. He’s strong,” he reminds me.

  “We have to get him back.” I suck in my bottom lip and bite hard enough to draw blood.

  “Poppa wouldn’t want you to go after him.”

  “It’s not up to him.”

  After we hang up, I lose the only purpose I had to stand upright, and I crumple to the floor. Barbara kneels down beside me and strokes my hair back as I choke on the sobs racking my body. She takes me into her arms, and I willingly go to her, like a child seeking comfort.

  “Derrick is calling the police,” Barbara reminds me, letting me know she listened to my conversation with Derrick.

  Derrick tried to reassure me that the only way Poppa had a chance of surviving would be with help. Otherwise, it would just be Derrick, Travis, and me looking for him. I didn’t bother reminding Derrick of the little help I had received from the police when I was held captive.

  Even in the midst of a breakdown, I can sense Travis before I see him. His presence is evasive and intense, as if he were the very breath I took. I inch away from Barbara’s embrace and look up at Travis with a watery smile.

  “I’ve got her.” He doesn’t wait for Barbara to reply. He simply scoots me off the floor and into his arms.

  I’m angry with him. But while I’m in his arms with him placing soft kisses on the crown of my head, I have to remind myself of that anger.

  He carries me to the room we’ve shared every night since the day he took me diving in the cave, and he sits on the bed with me on his lap. I had a small reprieve from reality, but how could I have been so naive to think that it would last forever?

  My mouth dry, I lick my lips.

  Dry, my mouth so dry, and my body tired, I was sure I’d fall into some dehydration-induced coma. At least I hoped I would. The room was spinning, making the smell of my own waste even more intolerable. I clawed the floor, trying to find the wall, so I could sit upright and lean against it.

  Water, I silently begged.

  But no one was there to listen.

  He had been gone for days.

  If he’d died, I’d soon follow.

  My stubborn heart continued to rapidly drum in my chest. Too fast. Too hard. I wondered if it’d splinter my ribs and beat its way out of my chest.

  Travis’s soothing voice brings me back to reality, to the beach house and the room we’ve loved each other in, and I begin to sob again in his arms. Minutes or hours pass by, but I’m unaware while Travis allows me to fall apart. When the tears finally stop, I press my face into his chest and mold myself against his body.

  “It’ll be okay, Holly.” He runs his hands over my hair. “We’ll find him,” he promises.

  His voice is like silk. His confidence almost makes me believe him. But he doesn’t know. He has no idea what my captor is capable of.

  Travis wasn’t able to secure a flight for us the same day, so we’re left waiting until tomorrow. Earlier, his brothers started a bonfire by the beach, and after much coaxing, I leave my bed and my room, and I sit down with them. I even remember to smile on cue.

  But my heart is hurting again, a pain so fierce that it demands to be noticed and leaves me exhausted.

  While everyone chatters, Travis stays adamantly by my side, his arms always around me, warming the cold growing inside me.

  While I want to live out this fairy tale with Travis and claim ignorance, I know I have to go home. I have to save Poppa, even if it means sacrificing myself.

  The police will want to speak to me in person and I’m afraid to see the state of the house after I gave them permission to go through it for clues of who took Poppa. Without Poppa there and with the police having left the remnants of their investigation all over the place, it won’t be my home anymore. Not after their smudges blot out all the good that house held. It’ll be just as foreign to me as it was the day Poppa and I left the hospital.

  When Barbara sits next to me, I plaster a smile on my face once again, making my cheeks hurt from the exertion.

  She pats my hand, and I squirm away from her touch, not wanting her comfort. I hate that Travis told her and the rest of his family everything.

  My kidnapping, my memory loss, my struggles are just that. Mine. It was my story to share, not his.

  Disappointment washes over me and I welcome it, hoping it’ll replace the fear that’s strung its probing fingers around my neck. Knowing Travis was only trying to help doesn’t make any of it better. Twice today he’s taken important decisions away from me and made them for himself.

  Emotion grips me, fear stealing my breath, heartache suffocating me.

  “You’re so strong. I almost didn’t see the suffering when we first met.” Barbara’s gentle voice interrupts my internal tirade

  “But you saw it?” I question.

  “You can’t hide haunted eyes.”

  I turn away from her, closing my eyes. I’ve been trying for so long to be normal that I actually thought I’d achieved it.

  “Travis can’t save you.”

  Blinking away the sudden stupor, Travis turns his head in her direction.

  “But he knows pain, and he knows loss. Let him help you,” she adds.

  “I’m broken, Barbara. And with Poppa –“ I trail off.

  “Beautifully broken,” she counters. “Together, you’ve already started to put the pieces back together.”

  My chest heaves, a part of my wanting to die. The other part needing to stay, to fix the damage I’ve done. Trapped in a cage I’ve built myself, my hollow breaths fall on silent screams of remorse.

  “Stop being strong,” she demands.

  Everyone stops talking to look at her.

  “Your life was interrupted by something you couldn’t have prevented or predicted. That doesn’t mean it’s over. The pain and suffering were what kept you alive for the six months that you were held captive. So, embrace it, and use it to your advantage. Remember the pain. Remember all of it, and you’ll find your Poppa.”

  “What if we find him but we’re too late?” My voice shakes, not able to break the chains that still hold me, a prisoner of my abduction.

  “Another unfortunate interruption in life, but again, your life would not be over. You’d mourn him with my son by your side. But you shouldn’t go to his grave and weep over him. He wouldn’t be there, sleeping peacefully. He’d be with your parents, looking down at you. They’d want you to continue living, to live in such a way that each breath you took was a tribute to them.

  “But that’s if, Holly—if you’re too late. My guess is, this man wants to keep your Poppa alive to get to you. Keep your head clear, and with Travis, you’ll be okay. The three of you will come home.”

  I squeeze her hand, grateful for her words and the temporary comfort she’s brought me.

  But the thing I’ve learned about comfort is that it doesn’t take away the fear or despair. It just expands your heart, making room for all three to live simultaneously together.

  There, in the midst of all the chaos, with my world crumbling around me, there’s love. I look up at Trav
is, whose eyes are still on me. I have plenty to love.

  Sneaking into Ed’s house was tricky with the old house creaking with every step I took. But once I stuck the needle—filled with a tranquilizer I’d gotten years ago from a veterinarian—into his neck while he slept, the task became easier. Because his bedroom was on the second floor, I had no other choice but to roll the old man down the stairs—although, to be honest, I would have rolled him down the stairs even if there had been another choice.

  I dragged his lifeless body to my truck and whistled as I drove us home.

  Once I settled him into the shed, I slapped him a couple of times to get him to wake up. Only, the tranquilizer had worked better than I’d expected. I stripped him of his clothes and left him shackled to the same wall I had secured Holly to. Content with him lying on the cold cement, I went back to Erica.

  As we watch television, I wait, restlessly tapping my foot, which I know irritates her, but it simply can’t be helped.

  Now that it’s finally after midnight, the tranquilizer must have worn off, so I look at Erica, making sure that she is still sleeping soundlessly beside me. I kiss her forehead and brush my knuckle over her cheek before I leave her.

  I tiptoe out of the room, trying to make as little noise as possible, even though I know her medication helps her sleep deeply. At the shed, I open the door and smile when I see Ed scrambling to cover himself, only to be jerked back by his confines.

  With his dignity teetering, he doesn’t even recognize me, so I introduce myself.

  “Mando.” I extend my hand and laugh at my own wit. “You know, the guy whose life was ruined by your daughter and son-in-law,” I say cheerfully.

  Understanding spreads across his face, pleasing me all the more.

  “Holly?”

  “Don’t worry, old man. She’s coming.”

  “No,” he says.

  His eyes widen as anguish and desperation spread inside of him.

  “Oh, yes, old man. While you were in and out of consciousness, I called her. We called her and she’s coming for you.”

  I laugh a full-bellied laugh when he chokes on his fear.