Hope To Escape

by Jack Parker

  Ess watched the look of satisfaction on his face as Max sipped his coffee. Then, he picked up his fork and dug into his eggs. She found herself begrudging this contented morning-person attitude that he seemed to exhibit.

  Max tried not to do more than glance at her, but a glance was enough to note the poorly hidden resentment on her face. Maybe she would come around, just enough to eat. At least, he hoped she would come around. Her reticence was killing him. He wanted nothing more than the best for her welfare, and that included eating.

  The decision was killing her. Should she sit down to eat with him? What would be the consequence of that? Would she be giving in to him? Would it be displaying weakness? Damn, she felt hungry. Funny how the body could override the mind in such instances.

  With pursed lips and a role of her eyes, Ess exaggerated her movements as she pulled her chair away from the table and sat down in it. She dug into the eggs with a flourish and brought a forkful to her mouth. When she tasted them, she was pleasantly surprised. They were actually pretty good. She wasn't sure if it was Max's fine culinary work or her hunger that made the food so delicious, but she intended to enjoy it.

  The whole event was not lost on Max. He knew, he just knew, that she was coming around; and he was inwardly excited. The ice was melting. He just needed to keep the warmth coming. Conversation. That was the next step to win her over.

  He just needed a subject. A real subject, not small talk. A sudden thought came to mind, and he jumped on it. "So, how's your brother?"

  Since Ess sat down she had not made eye contact with Max. Now, forkful of eggs frozen halfway to her mouth, she shot him a surprised look. "My brother?"

  "Yeah," Max got the feeling from the look on Ess's face that he stumbled onto the wrong subject. "Ah, I remember you were trying to raise money to help pay for doctor bills. You know, the lemonade stand?" He now had an inclination that things hadn't gone well.

  "Yeah, well, it was a wasted effort." The fork finally found it's way to her mouth. She looked at her plate while she chewed her food.

  Max's heart twisted. Here he was trying to warm up to her, and he managed to bring back a painful memory. "I'm sorry."

  "It wasn't your fault." She glanced up and noticed the shame that was written all over his face.

  "Ah, right." Crap, he said he was sorry again. What an absurd show of weakness. Why couldn't he keep his cool around this woman?

  "He was beyond getting well at that point. I was just too young to realize it." She felt an unexplainable need to enlighten him. Maybe it was because of the concern that was evident on his face.

  Max nodded, reflecting on what he had just heard. "It appears that you are endlessly hopeful, as well as kind."

  Ess huffed out a short laugh. "No, I'm endlessly naïve. My brother's illness tore my family apart. My mom was consumed by his failing health, and she forgot about the rest of us." After the words came out of her mouth she regretted them. They didn't come out the way she meant them to. "Of course, I don't hold any grudge against anyone for that, least of all my brother. He was ill; and he was wonderful. I guess it's true that only the good die young."

  "Huh?" Max looked astonished at her statement. He was shocked that she made such a conclusion.

  Ess couldn't understand his confusion. "You know 'Only the good Die Young'?" Max's face was blank. "The song by Billy Joel?" she clarified.

  Max just shrugged and shook his head. Ess couldn't believe he'd never heard that one. "What, were you born under a rock?" she joked.

  Max laughed bitterly. "Ah, yeah, now that's one I've heard." And it was evident by the strange pain that tinged the features of his face, even though he smiled. Ess realized that he really must have had a difficult childhood.

  She continued on about her family to divert the direction that the conversation had headed. "Anyway, she never got over it, so I got used to being of secondary importance in my family – I got used to being alone. Turns out it was good practice for adulthood." She tried to make a joke out of it, but found that loneliness was a poor subject for humor.

  With that, she stopped herself, realizing that she was relaying too much to this stranger. He just gave off this unusual aura of empathy. What a dangerous talent he had. She needed to be careful or she might find herself baring her soul to him, and that would leave her nothing except vulnerable.

  When Max realized she wasn't going to continue talking he ventured with, "Well, what you did for me was important. You meant a lot to me."

  Ess froze again with wide eyes and a dropped jaw, which took a moment for her to recover and hide away; and Max realized he overstepped the obsession line, again. Why on earth did he have to say that out loud?

  It didn't take long for that ever-ready rosy color to warm Ess's cheeks. She concentrated once again on her food.

  Max wasn't sure what to say. How could he save the conversation? She had been warming up to him, and then he opened his big mouth. Would it be wise to say something more? Should he even attempt to correct or explain his lack of discretion? Oh, what did he really have to lose at this point?

  "I, ah, I didn't mean for that to sound so . . . neurotic." Ess reacted with a raised eyebrow, but still made no further eye contact.

  Then, an idea came to him. He recalled something he had thought of earlier, and decided to try it out on Ess. While he poured a cup of coffee he said, "You know this 'obsession' idea has been given a bad rep. Modern society has labeled it a negative psychological condition, but I can argue against that." He pushed the mug and the box of sugar towards her. After a moment, Ess accepted the sugar and began to prepare her coffee.

  Max took that as sign enough that she would hear him out. "I couldn't help but notice your copy of Pride and Prejudice in your apartment last night." She stopped mid-stir and gave him a withering glare.

  "OK, I can see how bringing up the home invasion doesn't help my case, but the point is, I know you know the story." He waited for an affirmative.

  "Backwards and forwards," she responded, and then added, "Are you saying that makes me obsessed? Because I really don't think that falls into the same category."

  "No, no, no. Let me explain." She wasn't getting his drift. "I know the story, too. I had to read it in college." He saw the smallest hint of approval on her face, as her eyes lit up ever so slightly. "I know that it's considered one of the best love romances of all times. Well, amongst women, anyway. Most of the guys in the literature class suffered through it in agony. I, however, found myself relating to Mr. Darcy."

  Ess let out a short disbelieving laugh. "Relating? To Mr. Darcy?"

  "Yes," Max was a little insulted by her reaction, "Believe it or not. Mr. Darcy was, in fact, obsessed." Ess looked offended that Max would suggest such a thing of Mr. Darcy. "Don't believe me? Look at the story, again. Mr. Darcy becomes infatuated with a girl he barely knows, he fights his feelings for her, but in the end he's willing to overlook every reason not to be with her to, well, be with her."

  It did, in fact, make a little bit of sense, Ess thought – a very little bit. "OK, maybe Mr. Darcy's feelings were a little on the extreme side, but at least he contained them. He didn't kidnap Elizabeth and hold her hostage in the middle of nowhere."

  "Ah, but he and I have something in common there, too."

  "Really? I'm waiting to be amazed." Ess gave him a challenging look.

  "Well," Max paused to consider his words, "When Elizabeth's sister intended to elope with Wickham, it threatened to ruin the reputation of her entire family. So, Darcy did what he could to save Elizabeth from social disgrace. He put forth a lot of money and effort, and he suffered with the knowledge that he had to give financial help the very man he despised, the man who had already tried to damage Darcy's own sister, in order to cover up the indiscretion of Elizabeth's sister. He did it all for the woman who meant the world to him, not expecting anything in return. It wasn't until his Aunt tried unsuccessfully to get Elizabeth to promise never to marry Mr. Darcy, that he even realized he may
still have a chance with her.

  I know you still don't understand the necessity of bringing you out here, but I was thinking of nothing but your safety. Even if I give up my freedom in the end and go to jail, I'll risk it to keep a dangerous man from getting his hands on you."

  The realization hit Ess hard. She understood. He was a little unorthodox, but in a way Max was her version of Mr. Darcy. He was less distinguished in his actions and his feelings were unsought, but he fought against his better judgment when he kidnapped her to hide her from some 'dangerous man'. Ess's story was playing out a little darker, and she couldn't imagine the outcome could be as happy, but she somehow felt less afraid of Max now that she thought of him in this respect.

  Max saw the nearly indiscernible change in her eyes and he knew he finally broke through the ice. Ess however, wasn't ready to display her concession yet.

  And so began a debate on obsessed characters in literature. Eventually, they moved the conversation to the couch by the fireplace (Ess still kept a physical distance, which Max respected), where they spent at least an hour discussing Heathcliff from Wuthering Heights. Now that was a tale of demented obsession. Max fought hard against being compared to Heathcliff's tragic character, and won out in the end, much to his relief.

  Angoli, Max thought with resentment, was a different story. His resemblance to Emily Bronte's dark Heathcliff character was too close for comfort. He wisely chose not to bring that up to Ess, though. No need to scare her.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  Roden was getting fed up. He had just left cabin number five, and what really bothered him about this one was that it actually looked like the place he had dropped Max off at and picked him up from years ago. He recognized the landmark when he saw it: two trees framed the cabin door with their branches intertwined over the threshold, and their roots slowly pried the cement step away from the cabin's entrance, as though nature was reclaiming it's grounds.

  Apparently, Max chose not to inhabit the same cabin he stayed in last time. With this newly discovered knowledge, Roden lost most of what remained of his hope. What if Max had another plan? What if he was hiding Ess in the preserve away from all campsites? Max had to have explored the lay of the land when he was here the first time. He may have found several good hiding places, a den or a cave maybe.

  Roden knew he had to keep going until he searched all the cabins. Even if his hope was quickly diminishing, he couldn't give up on the remote possibility that he could save Max from himself. He probably couldn't keep him from jail at this point, but he hoped to keep his friend's crimes to a minimum.

  Turning these thoughts over in his head, Roden didn't realize that he began to doze off behind the wheel. The next thing he knew, Manda was shouting in his ear and grabbing his arm to shake him awake. He automatically hit the brake and turned the steering wheel. Unfortunately, he swerved in the wrong direction. The car had been moving slowly over the dirt path, and so when he hit the nearby tree, it was at less than ten miles an hour.

  After his initial adrenaline stimulated shock, which lasted nearly fifteen seconds due to his state of fatigue, Roden caught his breath. His head began to pound as the oxygen flooded back to his brain. In desperate concern for his car, he jumped out of the driver side door. All the exhaustion he had felt less than a minute before was gone as he looked over the bumper of his BMW. In consequence of the low speed impact with the tree, there were no dents, but the bark left deep scratches in the rubber of the bumper. All in all, he was relieved that the damage had been so minimal.

  During Roden's examination of the car, Manda got out of the passenger side door, with Martin crawling out behind her. When Roden finally pulled his eyes away from the bumper, he looked up to see her glaring at him, arms folded across her chest. Martin stood behind her with a look of anticipation on his face. He was waiting for the assured entertainment that Manda's next irate episode would bring.

  Roden just rolled his eyes and braced himself for it, but her angry words didn't come. He looked at her more intently, and saw tears begin to well up in her eyes. "Manda?"

  Finally, she opened her mouth. "So," her voice cracked as she tried to hide her emotions, "Is your precious car okay?"

  That question caught Roden off guard. This was not the normal confrontation he was beginning to grow accustom to. Was she actually holding back? Roden cleared his throat and answered her in the affirmative.

  "Oh, well, that's great." She replied. "I'm so glad things are working out for you." She wiped a tear away before it had a chance to escape from her eye, and returned her arms to their folded position.

  Then, Roden finally realized what was wrong with her. "What about you? Are you alright?"

  He could tell that Manda mentally stumbled over his question. The accident, though it turned out to be minor and left them all physically unscathed, obviously gave her a fright. Roden felt sure that it had to do with the fact that she was already distressed about her friend, and drained by the anxiety of the long night.

  "I'm fine." Manda jutted her chin forward and rolled her eyes away from Roden's gaze in stubborn pride. Roden watched as that troubled pride slowly erased from her face, to be replaced by the slow discernment of something in the distance.

  It registered to Roden that Manda saw something. He turned in the direction in which she was looking. Through the trees, on an alternate trail, was a stationary vehicle. It must have been parked there. From this distance he couldn't tell the make or model of it, but, since it was the first sign of any civilization they had seen here, he became very curious. The dwindling hope rekindled inside of him just a little bit.

  Martin became aware of the vehicle, as well, and immediately skirted around the BMW and his companions to head towards it. Seconds later, Roden and Manda caught up to him. They rounded trees and stumbled over leaf-buried roots to get to the vehicle's destination. As they drew closer, Roden recognized the car. It was Max's old white Volkswagen Jetta. He positively identified it by the dent on the back door from when Max was sideswiped about three years ago by another car. The person at fault had fled away from the scene, leaving Max very angry. The young man couldn't understand why anyone wouldn't own up to his or her mistakes.

  All three searched the area around the car to try to find evidence of Max or Ess. The doors were locked, so they peered inside, but the tinted windows made it difficult to see anything. Roden heard a thud coming from Martin's direction and looked up to see that the younger man had tried to break a window with his elbow. It didn't work. Martin rubbed at his apparently injured arm, and Roden alternated between exasperation and amusement. Served the man right for breaking into things so often.

  "Well, they were obviously here at some point in the night." Roden stated, satisfied that he could finally prove to Manda that they were on the right trail.

  "But I don't see any cabins around here." Manda stated as she slowly scoped the area with her eyes.

  Roden looked at his map. He wasn't exactly sure how far they were between the last cabin they investigated and the point where the next cabin should be. Since Max's car was on a different path, Roden was a little confused. Was this other trail even on the map? His map reading skills were never very good, and he couldn't even figure out north from south (or east from west for that matter) without a street sign to point it out for him. It was just never a talent he possessed.

  "Well, wherever they went to from here, they went on foot." That seemed evident enough, but the statement was meant to lead up to his next proposal in their search. "I suggest that we split up and search the area for them. Maybe we can find clues or spot a nearby cabin. . ."

  "Absolutely not!" Manda cried. "I'm not wandering around here on my own."

  "Manda," Roden pleaded, "It is the quickest way. You want to find Ess, don't you?"

  Manda looked horrified. She was torn between finding her friend and wandering the forest alone. She was obviously a city girl, and, as Roden glanced at her feet he remembered that she wasn't exactly wearing th
e right shoes. Still, he suspected that the wild animals would be more afraid of her than she would be of them.

  "Here. Take my watch, and I'll use the timer on my cell phone. We can have a look around the area; cover whatever distance out we can in an hour, then turn around and meet back here in two. That way you can't wander too far." Roden handed his watch to Manda, but she didn't take it.

  "What if I get lost? What if I fall down a hole or get dragged off by a wild animal?" She was legitimately scared.

  "Manda, I promise you. If you are not back at this spot in two hours, I will come looking for you. I swear to you, I will not leave this forest without you. Okay?" Manda still hesitated, but took the watch from him.