Life Interrupted

by Yessi Smith

  Finally, she’s coming home.

  Unable to do much more than fidget in my seat, the flight back home is long, much longer than I remembered. The plane we chartered is smaller and without any other occupants, we were able to bring Leeloo with us. Leeloo stays by my feet, and although she has never been on an airplane before, she doesn’t show any signs of fear. The warmth of her body on my feet is a familiar comfort that eases a small part of me. Since she strolled into my life and forced me to pet her rear end, we have become friends. She’s a small form of consistency in my life that I wasn’t aware I had grown dependent on.

  All I can think about is Poppa though. I’m relying fully on Derrick. Travis wants to help. His mom believes he can help.

  But I can’t put Travis in danger. Because of me, he has Poppa. I can’t let the same thing happen to Travis.

  So, I’ll go in alone—or with Derrick. As a cop, he’s trained for this sort of thing.

  Derrick meets us at the airport, and when he hugs me to him, I cling to his broad shoulders and weep openly. As he’d done in the past, Derrick holds me together while the world around me spins out of control.

  “We’ll get Poppa back,” Derrick promises.

  I nod, and pull away from him, needing to stand on my own. Wiping the tears, I look up at Travis’s face when he places a steady hand on my shoulder.

  “This is Travis.” I gesture and both men shake hands, eyeing each other suspiciously.

  Rage builds slowly in the pit of my stomach, travelling up my spine. I breathe it in, welcoming it.

  “Neither one of you has a large dick.”

  Drained of every emotion aside from the sudden anger, I stalk toward Derrick’s truck, my words hanging in the air as Travis and Derrick gape after me. Leave it to men to size each other up in the middle of a serious crisis.

  “So, finish pissing on each other, so we can figure this shit out.”

  Travis runs after me and I shake my hand loose when he grabs my wrist. Once I’m seated in the backseat, I slam the door with a loud thump and a small part of me rejoices when Derrick flinches.

  “She’s never seen my dick,” Derrick clarifies once we’re in his truck.

  “How is that important?” I ask him, waving my arms in the air, having already lost all my common sense.

  “I just thought he should know.” Derrick shrugs his shoulders and starts the car.

  Travis looks at me from the front passenger seat and winks.

  “You’ve never complained about the size of my dick before.”

  Embarrassed, I look away from him, the burning on my cheeks spread down my neck until my whole upper body is engulfed in shame filled flames. Feeling like marked territory, I purposely focus all my attention on Leeloo, who has placed her enormous head on my lap, and I methodically pet her. Rhythmically, my hands move over her head, across her back, and then back up to her head, back and forth, giving me both a sense of purpose and calm.

  Two police officers greet me when we arrive at Poppa’s house. They question me about my kidnapping, about my kidnapper, about how I escaped. They want to know every detail of the phone call I received.

  They’re worse than Ann with her prodding questions. Dread grows with every question asked, because I have no answers. I can’t help them. I can’t help Poppa.

  Frustrated, I leave the kitchen table and stalk the halls while Travis tells them about his conversation with the man who took Poppa.

  My thoughts cloud. The creaking of the old wood floors resonates off the walls, each sound echoing in my head. On shaking limbs, I lean onto the wall while my heart tries to claw its way out of my chest, but they close in on me. The walls tremor beneath my touch.

  Cramped inside the house, I walk outside on leaden feet.

  A warm blast from the sun greets me so I turn my face upward to absorb the heat. Music, barely above a whisper, fills the open air and I whirl around to find the source.

  Silence.

  Shaking my head, I crouch down and sit on the front patio, pressing my fingers nails into my bare skin.

  Still silence.

  Still cramped.

  Out of darkness, out of torture and fear, I was born. A man’s singing voice fills the space in my heart where joy and compassion lived, and replaces it with guilt and selfish decisions.

  I stand up, clasping my hands to my ears to drown out the sound. Strong hands take me in their arms and again, I hold on to Derrick while he whispers soothing words into my hair.

  “He sang to me,” I whisper and Derrick places a kiss to the top of my head. “Open Arms by Journey.”

  Derrick stiffens so I look up at him in question.

  “Is there anything else you remember?”

  “No.” I look at my feet. “Just his voice singing to me.”

  “Do you want to stay at my place tonight?” Derrick asks and I furrow my eyebrows. “You and Travis?”

  Although grateful, I refuse Derrick’s offer. Poppa’s house is my home. I knew it the second I saw it again. It’s where I belong, and it was stupid of me to leave. Now, because of my selfishness, Poppa’s in the same danger I was once in.

  Unsure of what to do when the police finally leave, I go back to the kitchen and warm up the food Heather left in the refrigerator for us. I follow the timer on the microwave, hitting the Cancel button before it gets to zero and starts to beep. Finding comfort in the small things I can control, I hold onto them so that I don’t lose myself again, and slip back to the time when I left the hospital.

  Derrick approaches me from behind, so I turn around to face him and he once again puts a hand on my shoulder.

  “You know what you have to do, don’t ya?” he asks.

  I look back at him. If I knew what I had to do, I wouldn’t be wasting my time with warming up food that I probably won’t eat.

  “You have to go back to Ann. You have to remember.”

  How simple it is for him to say that to me. I have to remember.

  Isn’t that what I’ve been trying to do?

  No, I answer myself honestly. The admission leaves me cold.

  I’ve remembered what’s safe—bits and pieces of Poppa and my friends. But the rest, I’ve been running away from, trying to start a new life that doesn’t consist of the nightmares I won’t let myself remember.

  Isn’t that what it comes down to?

  Although I dutifully tell everyone I want to remember, the truth is, I don’t. I don’t want to remember what happened to me while I was captured any more than I want to remember the events before that day.

  I don’t want to remember any of it.

  “Yeah,” I agree. “Whatever it takes.”

  Derrick disappears, probably to call Ann and let her know the good news. I walk up to Travis, and rest my head on his chest, listening to the sound of his heartbeat. I don’t fully relax until his arms circle around me.

  “I’m still angry with you.” With my arms around his waist, my words carry little weight.

  With his lips resting on my forehead, I notice when they curve up into his half smile.

  “We’ll find him, Holly. I promise.”

  My eyes overflow with tears. I don’t know how we’ll find Poppa or get him back. I’ve abandoned him, completely let him down. Poppa, who never gave up on me and wouldn’t leave my side, who would bend the sky for me if I asked him. And what did I do for him in return? I got him abducted.

  Granddaughter of the Year award goes to…

  Seeking just the tiniest bit of normalcy, I set the table while Leeloo follows closely behind. When Travis turns away to get our drinks, I toss her a chunk of chicken, which she quickly swallows without chewing. Grateful for her swiftness and ability to conspire against her owner, I pet her behind her right ear while she enthusiastically wags her butt at me.

  “No more for you.” Rather than balk at my words, she looks back at me with adoration in her eyes.

  “Don’t let her fool you,” Travis says from behind me.

  Innoce
nce fills my eyes when I look back at him.

  “She only wants you for your food.”

  “Yeah, well…” I sigh and look away from him. Already, I’m turning back into the robot who left the hospital months ago.

  Travis cups my chin with his lean fingers and tilts my face until I’m looking at him. He lowers his head, and our lips meet for a soft embrace.

  “So,” Derrick interrupts us with a good-natured smile full of mischief plastered on his face.

  “So,” I repeat.

  Derrick holds his hands up, but I know him too well. He’s not one to retreat.

  “I’ll do the big-brother thing later. When you’re not around,” he promises.

  “Don’t do this,” I warn. “Don’t act like everything’s normal and I just brought home some boy for you to meet.” My voice rises while my hands shake at my side.

  On a soft sigh, Derrick squares his shoulders and nods. “Ann said she could meet with you tomorrow.”

  The inner workings of my body go cold, but I’m able to hide my reaction and the feeling that Derrick has just left me in a ditch where there is no escape. I can’t get out, but I can fight my way through.

  “Who’s Ann?” Travis asks.

  “My therapist,” I remind him and then explain what Derrick has confirmed I need to do.

  I have to remember—for Poppa.

  The old man isn’t much of a fighter. The fight in him only surfaced when I mentioned his granddaughter’s name.

  Holly. His sweet Holly.

  I’ll slowly break them both, so slowly that they’ll welcome their deaths.

  For now, I keep him in the darkness with a ski mask over his head, and his hands and feet are tied. He has no reference as to where I am or what my intentions are until I deliver a blow to his face or stomach.

  There is so much joy when his body flinches or tightens when he hears my footsteps. He never knows what I’m going to do. Sometimes, I sit and watch him. His frail body is growing weaker. His worry for his granddaughter consumes him, but he threatens me although he knows they will both die by my hands. He tries to hide his trembling when I pace in front of him, which fills me with a glee only Erica can bring me. Because the sound of his jaw popping excites me, I often punch him in the face, mesmerized by the blood as it trickles down the side of his mouth.

  But, most of the time, I pound my fists into his soul.

  This is psychological warfare, and I am going to win.

  My session with Ann isn’t any different than the previous sessions. I don’t know why I expected there to be a difference, like some sort of discovery would delve into my mind and extract information that remained hidden. I blame watching The Fifth Element with Travis and the revolutionary ideas they created when they showed the world with things that would never happen during our existence.

  Instead, we’re resorting to hypnotherapy. That’s right. I’m going to be hypnotized. It’s stupid. It’s so cliché, so completely out of some Hallmark movie, that I want to rip my eyes right out of their sockets.

  But it’s the only shot I have.

  Nobody answers when I call Poppa’s phone, and no one has called me from it either. Still, I check my phone compulsively just to make sure I didn’t miss any calls. I’m sure the phone would have rung by now if Derrick hadn’t called the police—or if I hadn’t called Derrick, or if Travis hadn’t taken the phone away from me.

  Of course, Poppa wouldn’t even be in this situation if I hadn’t escaped my abductor.

  I blame everyone because I can’t blame him.

  With Leeloo close by, I walk into Poppa’s woods and try not to worry about the fact that Travis and Derrick have been alone with only each other’s company for hours. I’m sure one of them would be responsible enough to call the ambulance, if Derrick were indeed to go all big-brother on Travis and find out just what Travis and I were up to when I was supposed to be focusing on my mental health.

  Derrick has seen me at my weakest, so I don’t blame him for being so fiercely overprotective of me. I left Texas with a crippling fear of being touched. When I returned from my escape to Harbour Island, I brought a man by my side whose hands wander over my body as if they belong there. Yeah, I roll my eyes. Travis was going to get his ass handed to him.

  Mindlessly, I walk without knowing where I’m going, but I’ve been maintaining an internal compass, so I’ll know how to get back home. I’m careful around the brushes, so they can’t scratch my face, and I hop over bigger rocks as I imagine I might have as a child.

  Once I reach the stream, I sit on a boulder, letting my feet dangle so that they don’t hit the water. Tall trees surround me, their leaves dropping into the stream. Overcast, the clouds provide a refuge from the sun, the looming darkness tearing apart the semblance of peace. The water flows, constantly in motion, and I try to see myself here.

  Sneakers, pigtails, dirty fingernails…

  I can’t picture it.

  A dog, large and black like Leeloo…

  No, I had a mutt mixed with so many different breeds that Poppa called him Ug, short for Ugly. I loved that dog with such ferocity that I actually thought he was my little brother. I was devastated when we lost him, and I couldn’t bear to look at the little white dog my mom brought home to mend my broken heart. But as young hearts so easily do, it healed, and Betsy became my new best friend.

  I picture Ug with his tongue always sticking out because it was too big to fit in his mouth and his perceptive eyes always watching me. I remember how I once mounted my dolls on his back, as if he were their gallant stallion. And I think about little Betsy, who was with us until my late teens.

  Staggering on the memory, I look down at the stream, trying to remember my abduction. There must have been a struggle of some sort. Did he use tape or ropes? Or maybe a sedative, so there wouldn’t be a struggle? Were there people around? Or was I alone, like now?

  Unease settles in the base of my neck, and I look around to find the culprit. I rub my neck and stand up, turning in circles, as I look around the trees surrounding me. Leaving Leeloo to play in the stream, I walk deeper into the woods, stepping over broken tree limbs and rocks. The farther away I get from Poppa’s house, the more the disquiet and agitation in my neck grows. The constant flow of stream is still within earshot when my head begins to hurt. I hold my head in my hands but continue moving forward, somehow knowing I’m going in the right direction.

  My feet stop moving when I come across a tree with a squirrel nailed to it. A piece of paper hangs from the dead creature’s mouth, and I know.

  It’s a message for me.

  On a shaky long inhale, I stretch out my arm and work the paper out of the squirrel’s mouth without ripping it. I exhale, refusing to cry in case he is watching me. A knot in my stomach forms as I open the paper. Only two words are written on the paper.

  Come alone.

  “Where?” I turn in circles, the rushing sound of my desperation clings in the silence, attempting to drag me under. “Tell me where, and I’ll go!”

  No one answers, so I drop to my knees and sob into my hands. A knot weaves around my heart, tightening and I gasp for air. As the turmoil inside me builds, the wind begins to pick up in speed and sends my hair flying in front of my face. I look back at the trees and eventually stand, clinging the tiniest scrap of hope. The constant hammering in my head tells me I’m going in the right direction when the pain becomes unbearable. I steady my body by leaning my hand on various tree trunks, stopping periodically to rest my head against the rough bark.

  The pain is debilitating, making me nauseous and weak, but I push through it until I see a house much like Poppa’s in the distance. My sight wavers as I fight off the pain. I swipe the sweat from my forehead with the back of my hand and then pinch my nose in the hopes that the slight pressure will help my headache.

  After a steadying long breath, I take a small step toward the house.

  “Stop.”

  I shriek, but Travis clasps his hand over my mo
uth so that no noise escapes.

  “Quiet.”

  I’d have been a lot quieter if he hadn’t scared me.

  Narrowing my eyes at him as suspicion takes root in the pit of my stomach, I glare at him. Thoughts emerge, blinding me. He couldn’t be a part of this though. He just couldn’t.

  My body begins to shake as I realize the truth.

  Looking into a Travis’s eyes, all I see is a stranger. His deceptions repeatedly stabbing me.

  “I came looking for you and found Leeloo playing in the water. I called your name, but when you didn’t answer…” He runs a shaky hand through his hair and lets out a loud sigh. “I thought he’d gotten you, Holly.” He removes his hand from over my mouth and crushes my body with his own. “It wasn’t hard to figure out where you’d gone. You trampled over everything.”

  Memories turn inside of me, reminding me of what we’ve had and who we are. My eyes hurt, small tears spilling out while I search his face.

  “You saw the squirrel?” My voice is so low that I don’t think he can hear me.

  He nods, so I take out the note that was left for me, and I hand it to him.

  “You have to leave,” I say after he’s read it.

  “No.”

  “No?” I go to him, shoving him hard on his chest. “I don’t want you here, Travis. I don’t want you.” Words spill through my lips, each one meant to hurt and slice through his insecurities.

  He narrows his eyes at me, his pulse throbbing in his neck. I see the dread as it spreads and roots itself in his heart as it enters his eyes.

  “I have Derrick. Go back to your little island. I want Derrick, not you.”

  His eyes darken before his lips crash into mine, revealing my lie. I try to push him away, but my body retaliates against my own common sense, and I open myself to him as my lips seek his with a feverish desire. I need our passion, if only for a moment, to take me away from the woods and the shed.

  “You can have Derrick after we’re done. I promised I’d help you get your grandpa back, and that’s what I’m gonna do.”