“Der’mo,” he whispered. “We have always been careful about keeping you and the children out of the media.”
My stomach started giving me fits. “They know us beyond your celebrity.”
“Or they have their ways of finding out.” Jack’s shoulders slumped. “This is just crazy.” I could not disagree. “We better pick up the pace,” he suggested and I nodded. “I will be respectful,” he said and soaped up the washcloth, “and if I am hurting you or you are uncomfortable and need me to stop, please tell me.”
“Let’s just get this over with,” I said in a voice which was close to betraying the fake strength I was trying to show Jack.
He was careful in his movements as he bathed me and as uncomfortable as I was, the feeling of being clean was nice. He saved my hands for last, using a special antiseptic soap Vivienne left. He helped me out of the tub, dried me off, and then located the clothes. Clothes wasn’t correct; what we were given were pajamas and just in Jack’s size. The navy and white flannel pants along with the navy-shirt hung on me and I was glad the pants had a drawstring otherwise they would not have stayed up. Jack took the gray and black plaid pants and heather gray tee and they were a little big for him but not much. I had hoped for socks but there were none. My feet were cold, as they always were.
The last things Jack did was gently smear a special ointment on my hands and wrap them back up. The pain in my hands and broken wrist was bad. Not as bad as a shattered hip and pelvis or broken back but enough pain to appreciate no pain. My urinary tract was also throbbing and I felt pain nausea building up again. My ribs still bothered me and the last thing I wanted to do was vomit.
“You are wearing out,” Jack noted as he put toothpaste on a second toothbrush. The anticipation of having clean teeth almost made me cry. “Would you like to rest when we are done here?”
“If we’re allowed,” I said.
“Good point,” he noted and proceeded to brush my teeth. With that final task, we were clean and fresh but still scared to death.
Jack went to the appropriate door, knocked, and then came and helped me up. The room wavered a bit before my eyes and I shivered. I was cold and felt achy. Jack touched the back of his hand to my forehead and confirmed what I thought.
“Your fever is back.”
The door opened and we were led into the next room which was a bedroom outfitted in furniture from the 1960’s. The color of this shag carpeting was puke green, just as in the dining/living room and on the walls was pastel flower wallpaper. A double bed sat diagonally in the corner and there were two dressers – one tall and one short with a mirror. A nightstand stood next to the bed. A turquoise lamp sat on the nightstand along with an alarm clock, one with little plastic numbers that flipped around. It was 3:24 in the afternoon. There were two barred windows in the room. One opposite the door we were led through and the other perpendicular to it and both had gauzy curtains hanging from plain brass rods.
“This will be your home for the foreseeable future,” William said. “Three meals will be brought to you and you have free access to the bathroom. There is no escape. Should you try anything, even something you think is benign, and the Employer has authorized a bullet to Penny’s head, should we choose that option.” My stomach cramped at this and I started shaking even more. How could I not? “Meals will be delivered at eight, noon, and six. Lights out at ten. Bathing, however, is limited to once a week. This isn’t a spa.” William left.
“Well, okay,” Jack sighed and turned towards me. I must have had a telling look on my face. “I know it is hard but do not think about what he said. I promise not to do anything to jeopardize you.” I nodded. I was tired and my arms ached from trying to support my broken wrist with my right forearm. “Dinner will come at six. You have time to rest.” I nodded again and Jack pulled back the retro white chenille blanket. There were soft sheets on the bed with real feather pillows. I lay down and Jack tucked the bed covers over me.
. . .
I woke up with the terrible urge to pee and to vomit. Jack helped me to the toilet where I dry heaved into the wastebasket that had been emptied of our clothes while once again pissing razor blades. The pain was so bad it was as if the antibiotics had not touched the infection at all. Jack struggled to get me back to the bed and then rushed back to my side with the damp washcloth.
“Have you ever had an infection this bad before?” he asked with much worry on his face. I was worried too.
“No,” I said with my teeth chattering. Vivienne arrived a few moments later.
“It is worse,” Jack said. I doubted she needed him to tell her as the bedroom had a camera. Vivienne set her kit down on the low dresser and then pulled out something that made me groan.
“I need her to piss in a cup so I can choose a better antibiotic,” she explained and handed the cup to Jack. I was mortified. It was bad enough he had to bathe and wipe me but to hold a cup down there while I peed? A few tears slipped from my eyes before I turned my face.
“I’ll be back in half an hour,” I heard Vivienne say in anger and the door slam. I felt the bed jiggle and then Jack’s gentle touch on my nearly bald head.
“I know you are so embarrassed, Penelope,” he said. “You have always been such a private person but at least she wants to give you a better antibiotic.” I wept for a few minutes before Jack helped me back to the bathroom. I was so tense and upset and in pain that it was hard to produce. With only a couple minutes to spare, I peed just enough murky, blood-tinged urine to fill the little cup halfway.
. . .
Jack stood at the window. Other than snow and woods, there was nothing to see. From the other window, the view was the same. A whimpering noise behind him drew his attention from the dimming sky. It was almost six and his tender stomach was ready for food and he hoped medicine would be brought for Penny. After Vivienne took the urine sample, Penny had either fallen deeply asleep or passed out.
“Hey,” he said and sat on the other side of the bed being careful not to jar Penny’s broken bones.
“Hey,” she replied.
“How are you feeling?” He hated always asking the question but he needed to monitor her condition. It kept part of his brain occupied.
“I’ve been better,” she said. He was just about to say dinner would be arriving soon when the door opened and Vivienne and William entered. They both had a tray and Vivienne once again had her medical kit. From the kit she took out an amber prescription bottle and shook two horse pills out onto one of the trays. She then filled a syringe from a small bottle.
“Ten days of three different antibiotics,” she said. “One twice a day by mouth, one every eight hours via needle, and the third once a day in the ass.” Vivienne motioned for Penny to roll onto her side. She wasn’t gentle when she plunged the needle into Penny’s hip but Penny didn’t react. Vivienne returned to her kit and filled another syringe from a different small vial. This antibiotic was red which Jack had never seen before. Penny stuck out her arm as instructed and Vivienne tied a tourniquet around her upper arm. She found a good vein and was slow to administer the drug. Jack watched as Penny’s face became initially tight before pain grew on it. Penny did not vocally react, however. Vivienne packed her stuff up and left the room with William.
“Her bedside manner sucks,” whispered Penny and cringed her face.
“Are you okay?” Jack asked.
“Yes,” she replied. “That red antibiotic really hurt.” Her gaze landed on the two trays sitting on the low dresser. “Pitaniye ,”[10] she noted. Jack retrieved one and then the other tea towel covered trays and settled down on the bed. When he pulled the towel off of Penny’s tray, she laughed.
“What?” he asked and revealed his tray. It was the same as Penny’s.
“This was the last place I would have expected to see the BRATT diet,” she explained. On their trays were a banana, a bowl of rice, apple juice, toast and a mug of tea. “It makes sense, though. Regular food might be too much of a shock to our
stomachs.” She paused a moment, looking unsure. “You eat first.” This bothered him.
“Penny, you must eat.” It was his turn to pause; guilt filled him. “I know you have been struggling with your anorexia and I am sorry I have been too wrapped up in myself to help you but now is not the time to let the strashnyi golos rule you. We need to survive. You need to survive.”
“It’s not the anorexia, at least not right now,” she admitted. “My stomach is queasy from the pain. I’m afraid to throw up.” She motioned to her injured side and he nodded.
“Understood,” he said, feeling a bit embarrassed he went a little overboard in admonishing her. “But please remember what I said. We both have to survive.” He said four prayers, in Hebrew, over his tray.
“Usually you don’t pray before a meal unless it’s Shabbat or another holiday,” noted Penny.
“I felt it necessary considering we have been starved for over two weeks,” he replied. “Perhaps food will not always be plentiful in this situation, no?”
After washing his hands, Jack was careful and took slow bites to make sure his own stomach didn’t reject the much needed food after going so long without. Because of her hands, Jack had to feed Penny which dampened her mood even more. She could only eat about a third of her food and the antibiotic pills and after a painful trip to the bathroom, she was quick to fall asleep.
Jack wished she ate more. When he bathed her, he tried to do so through unfocused eyes for her privacy but he still noticed how thin she was. She went into this hell while spiraling downwards with her anorexia. Although he didn’t have any weight to spare, Penny definitely had none. He needed her to eat as much as possible when food was brought to them but he’d been unable to push more of the food on her. She was in too much pain to eat.
At 9:55, he turned off the light and climbed into bed. Jack remembered their time at the cabin in June and a pleasing warmth filled him. He lay listening to Penny sleep, her breaths even but shallow. He hoped she had a nightmare-free night as sleep would help her heal.
* * *
Chapter 14
Both Jack and Penny slept quite a bit the first full day in the bedroom. Their orientation left them exhausted and their bodies needed healing from the punishment of having CNN not show the video in time. And Penny, of course, needed healing from the hell she went through. Jack was surprised his sleep was deep and he had no dreams or nightmares. On the second night in the bedroom, however, he had trouble falling asleep as his Big Brain would not shut off. When he did doze, his dreams were cloudy and non-specific and left him tired when he woke up just past seven. Penny was awake and sitting up although her eyes were almost closed.
“Ty v poryadke?”[11] he asked, keeping his volume low so as not to startle her.
“My back,” she replied, her voice rough. “It really, really hurts. The cement floor must have done a number on it.”
“When did you wake up?”
“Just after one and I saw every hour after that.”
“And your hands and wrist? How are they?” It was a moment of déjà vu for Jack, recalling the days, weeks, and months after the accident and how they quizzed each other on their health several times a day. They had been each other’s caregivers.
“They hurt a lot,” she said with hesitation.
Jack examined Penny’s wrists. Blood had oozed through the white gauze and when he unwound the gauze around her broken wrist, he found it still swollen and bruised. The gauze was tight on her swollen hands. He unwrapped them too, being as careful as possible. The burns were awful and Penny grimaced.
“The air makes them sting,” she said. Jack fetched the supplies from the bathroom and spent a few minutes spreading the cream on Penny’s hands and then rewrapping them, making sure the gauze was looser. He then helped her to the toilet, brushed her teeth, and then guided her back to bed. She leaned back against the headboard and was exhausted just from the slight activity. When he felt for a fever, he found one.
“How are you, Ivan?” she asked.
“I am okay, considering,” he replied, being honest. “Worried, of course.”
“Of course. Hopefully, this will be over soon and you can be back to your children.”
“And you will be back also,” he added. “Although I suppose you would like some hazard pay,” he joked.
“For a change, I might just take you up on that,” she replied dryly.
While in college, and especially during their senior year, Penny became the family’s official babysitter if Jack and Crystal needed one. Jack couldn’t always pay Penny and despite his guilt about it, she would often watch the kids for free. When Penny signed her first contract to work for Jack, she received a hefty check for almost four years of back pay. It was a surprise and she wasn’t sure what to do with it when she signed the employment contract. After several suggestions from both Jack and Crystal, she ended up framing the check without cashing it. To remember the lean days, she had said when he first saw it hanging on the wall of her bedroom.
Unbeknownst to Penny, Jack later had Shane – before Jack’s abuse suspicions were confirmed – open up a secret bank account in her name along with Jack’s. The first deposit was for the amount of that check and every year afterwards, he figured out how much overtime she worked and made a deposit. He wasn’t sure when he would tell her about the sizeable fund in her name but he was not looking forward to it.
Her salary was one of the few causes of fights between them. He wanted to pay her for her worth in his eyes but she said she didn’t need that much. She wanted just enough to cover her health insurance and maybe a few items of clothing and personal items but Jack wanted to make sure she also had enough to put away for when she no longer desired to work as his personal assistant and nanny to his children. He could never imagine that happening but he still felt obligated to make sure she could support herself until finding another job. Not that he ever saw her doing anything other than taking care of his family and to be honest, he didn’t want anyone else taking care of them either.
Breakfast arrived – again with the BRATT diet – and they ate. A small cup on Jack’s tray held his stomach medication. Penny managed to eat a little more and after Vivienne stuck her in the hip with the antibiotic and shot the red antibiotic into her arm, she fell asleep. Jack dozed also although any creak of the house or branch snapping outside woke him up. On occasion, he heard William or one of the others but their voices were muffled. Whenever he would hear them, Jack would put his ear up to the locked door and listen but he could never make anything out.
Two more BRATT trays came for lunch and the afternoon dragged on with a visit by Vivienne who gave Penny more of the red antibiotic. When they weren’t worrying about their lives or the kids, being a kidnapping victim was a very tedious experience.
. . .
Jack took another crack at the radio. He’d been trying to locate a station.
“We are probably too isolated,” he said as Penny looked on from the bed. Jack was slowly moving the needle on the clock radio dial but he was getting nothing but crackling static.
“You’ve never gone so long without music,” she said. “Are you going to miss it when you’ve retired?” Jack sat back on his heels and frowned. It was a question he asked himself many times over the last few months.
“Yes, I think I will miss the interactions with the fans and performing for them. And I will miss the creative process with the guys.”
“What about writing?” Penny suggested. “Be more behind the scenes. You have the studio. Other singers and songwriters could come to you.”
“I thought of that but I know the business, Penelope. It is hard to just be a minor part of it. First, I help write a tune and then they will want me to go to New York or LA to produce it instead of in my own studio and then maybe they want my vocals for backup and then they ask me to come back full-time. That is not what I want,” he explained. “I hate to say this, although this situation kind of makes it easier to, but I want to jus
t cut all ties. I want my focus to be on the kids. I just miss them so much; I just want to be with them. I need to get back to them.”
“You will, Ivan,” Penny said and her smile warmed him.
“I hope so. I just want to get back to the kids and never leave them again.”
* * *
Chapter 15
BRATT was again the name of the game for dinner but William said we’d be transitioned to regular food the next day. I hope that didn’t irritate the Terrible Voice. It had been quiet while we grew accustomed to solid food. The kidnapping stunned my anorexia into submission for the moment and I had an appetite although I still couldn’t finish my entire tray. Part of it was just not being used to that much food while the other part was being afraid of vomiting. My ribs still hurt.
That night, laying in the dark, neither Jack nor I could fall asleep.
“So why is sleep not visiting you?” he asked and turned on his side to face me. The bed was a double one and out of respect for me, even though we had shared a bed that weekend in June, he chose to lie as far away from me as possible. Plus, it wasn’t as if we were going to broadcast the fact we had sex in the past. No one knew what went on that weekend. Before he turned off the light, he helped me find a position that would hurt my back and ribs the least. This position was also on my side with one of the pillows tucked against my back. The warm blanket was pulled up over us.
“I’m just so achy,” I explained. “I always have a hard time sleeping when I’m running a fever.” I felt him touch my face and little seizures of electricity raced through me. I missed the feeling of his warm hand on my cheek.
“You are still warm,” he said. “I wish those antibiotics would kick in faster. I almost feel like your fever is continuous again.” Since receiving the antibiotics, the fever had broken just once.
Deceptions Page 14
