Long Hill Home

by Kathryn Pincus

  As Maria walked around the van to get in, she looked at the back of the blue station wagon parked at the other end of the lot. There were no distinguishing marks or stickers and it had a regular blue Delaware license plate. She tried to appear casual as she squinted to read the first four numbers of the plate, 8266.

  As the van pulled out of the driveway the older woman said, “Are you sure you are up for this? You look pretty wiped out.”

  “Oh, yes,” Maria said, flustered. “I am just a little tired. I’ll be fine, thank you.” When the woman turned her attention to the van driver and a discussion about her preferred radio station, Maria quietly took an old receipt out of her wallet and wrote down “8-2-6-6.”

  *****

  At four o’clock that same afternoon, Maria finally climbed the stairs to the one-bedroom apartment over busy King Street that she shared with Juan. She was exhausted, hungry and had to urinate so badly that she thought she might wet her pants. She pushed the door open and rushed to the toilet. Her swollen face and red eyes looked back at her from the mirror. She had cried the entire trip home, oblivious to the curiosity or alarm on the faces of strangers along the way.

  She kicked off her shoes and reclined on their worn sofa. Images of the morning’s horror replayed in her head. She closed her eyes, concentrated on her breathing, and fell asleep within minutes.

  Maria woke to the sound of Juan coming through their front door. He had on dusty Levis and a navy blue T-shirt that fit his body perfectly. He flashed his beautiful smile to greet her. He clutched a plastic bag that said Boston Chicken. “Hi, baby,” he said, as she wiped sleep from her eyes. She got up from the couch and walked to him.

  “Juan, we need to talk. I saw something today, something bad.”

  After Maria finished telling Juan her story she began to shake. “I was gonna call you, but I was scared. I didn’t know what to do. I was afraid to call the police.”

  “You definitely cannot call the police. You know that.” Juan’s tone frightened Maria and she started crying again.

  Shhhhhh.” Juan gently placed his fingers to Maria’s mouth. “I’m sorry, baby. Let’s relax a little first, and then we’ll talk more, okay?” He led her back to the sofa and helped her sit. He bent over and took her socks off carefully, slowly rolled up her jeans and started to rub her bare feet.

  “I know you’re upset, Maria. But maybe the whole thing is over, one way or the other, and you can’t help. We’ll get a newspaper in the morning, okay?” Juan stopped rubbing her feet and looked into her eyes, to see her response.

  “No Juan, that’s not enough. There may be a woman out there right now who needs rescuing. I may be the only one who knows.” Maria caught another sob in her throat.

  “Okay, look, we can’t call from our phones because maybe the police can trace it to us. We’ll go down to the pay phone by Herman’s Liquor Store and call the police right now. But, you cannot tell them your name or where we live or why you saw this or anything about you okay?”

  “Yes,” Maria nodded, wiping a tear off her cheek. “Let’s do that, please.”

  “Man, oh, man,” Juan shook his head as he handed Maria back her shoe. “You are a stubborn woman. I hope our little one gets your strong will.” He tried to get Maria to smile. He took her hand and together they left the apartment.

  A police siren screeched a few blocks away as they stepped onto the sidewalk. Maria held Juan’s hand firmly as they walked around the corner to the phone booth in front of the liquor store. The glass was dirty and the booth smelled of urine, and the black receiver hung by its cord inside the phone box. Juan stepped in, put the receiver to his ear and then clicked the bracket and pushed buttons in vain, trying to get a dial tone.

  “It’s broken, baby. No surprise, though—no one uses these things anymore.”

  Maria looked at him, her eyes pleading with him to let her do what she knew was right. She felt compelled to aid the woman who was carried into the woods. She could not shake the constant feeling that a person’s fate was in her hands.

  “I know what you’re thinking, baby,” Juan said, reading her thoughts. “But if you call them on your phone about this, you’ll be an eyewitness. You’ll be on the list for police and lawyers who prosecute criminals—and who enforce the law. What then? They will track you down and talk to you as they investigate this thing and maybe even expect you to testify. They will find out that you are here illegally.”

  Juan continued pleading, “Come on, baby, we have a lot of great things about to happen here. The lawyer we got from the Latin American Community Center is working on our papers. My citizenship will come through any day now and, soon after that, you will be here legally. Then we can do a lot of things. Then you can call the police whenever you want. And I can move up a lot quicker in the building business, maybe even have our own business someday. We’ll get much better pay and benefits, and we’ll be able to get a real home for our family.”

  Juan flashed a broad smile that assured Maria that they were capable of anything together, even as they stood in a dirty phone booth on a street corner between a rundown liquor store and a vacant building with boarded-up windows.

  “Come on, I still have that dinner waiting for you.”

  Moments later, Maria sat on her bed smelling the strong aroma of chicken heating in the microwave. The aroma of dinner and the sound of Juan singing softly in the kitchen normally made her feel so safe and content. But tonight she could not sit still. Her stomach churned and her hands trembled. Quietly she picked up her cell phone next to their bed and dialed 9-1-1.

  “Police. What is your emergency?” the emergency dispatcher’s answer came quickly.

  “Um, this morning I saw a kidnapping, or maybe even a murder,” Maria whispered.

  “Ma’am? I don’t understand you, ma’am. Are you in immediate danger?”

  “No. I saw something today and I think someone else is in danger.”

  Frustration came through in the dispatcher’s voice. “Please speak louder, ma’am.”

  “I was at Breck’s Mill, on the Brandywine River. I saw a woman get shot and then carried away by a man who had been hiding behind a tree. And later, I saw a different man pull up in a car and carry a woman’s body in a blanket into the woods that lead up toward Rockford Park.” Maria started to sob again as she finished her sentence.

  “I’m not following you, ma’am. Let’s take it step-by step. Can I have your name and address please?”

  Maria pictured the dispatcher poised to record Maria’s name and address. A wave of panic overcame her as she realized that the dispatcher did not ask for her cell phone number, because that information was probably automatically recorded when her call was connected! She pushed the power button on her phone and slammed it shut.

  “Dinner’s on!” Juan called to her.

  Maria entered the family room in time to see Juan placing a tray piled with food in the center of their rickety dining table. But tonight, he had transformed the table into something beautiful, with a clean, white sheet as a tablecloth, set with their only matching dishes and a single candle burning softly. Maria tried to regain her composure as she saw Juan’s big brown eyes watch her with adoration as she walked toward him.

  CHAPTER 6

  CHAD: SEPTEMBER 24, 2011

  Chad rose quietly and went to his closet to retrieve a blue shoebox that held his savings. It had been almost three months since he made his plan, and in that time he had saved every dollar he got from his father. He had started saving some of his allowance when he turned sixteen, foolishly thinking he could buy a cool car—or worse, that a car could make him happy. Now he could not wait any longer. Whatever he had in the box had to be enough. He was leaving; he could bear it no longer.

  After counting the dollar bills and estimating the value of a bulging bag of coins, he figured that he had about eight hundred and fifty dollars. He carefully put the cash back into the blue shoebox and hid it back in his closet. He decided he would go to a t
ravel agent after work and buy a ticket on the first plane that would take him to his mother. Then Chad heard his father leave his bedroom and shuffle to the kitchen.

  “Hey Dad, I’m heading out for a little walk.” Chad knew he could not bear to sit with him this morning.

  “All right, but we’re leaving for work at nine sharp, so don’t lose track of time out there looking for your little treasures.”

  Chad felt unsettled as he strode toward the waterfall near Breck’s Mill. As he neared the gardener’s shed, something had caught his eye. The shed’s door was wide open and it looked like a red-and-blue clad body was lying inside. He ran to get a closer look. His heart raced and his throat tightened as he realized he was looking at the body of a woman, in light blue running shorts and a bright red T-shirt, lying on the stone floor. Her wrists were bound behind her back and a wide cloth was wrapped around her head and over her eyes. Long reddish-brown hair spilled out of a ponytail holder and matted under her head. A piece of duct tape was stretched tight across her mouth and her cheeks.

  “Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God!” Chad muttered as he leaned over her limp body. Terror seized him. He was afraid to touch her and yet he felt compelled to do something. He got down on his knees next to the woman and saw goose bumps on her slim forearm. He was relieved to see her chest rising and falling softly and rhythmically. He gently pulled at the tape over her mouth, exhaling as he pulled it away from her lips and skin. He braced himself for the woman’s reaction, but there was none. He noticed that her lips parted slightly and she started breathing through her mouth.

  She looked almost peaceful, except she had been bound and gagged in a way that conveyed violent and criminal activity. He looked around the woods for someone who could help him, someone who could call for help. But a moment later, the thought of someone seeing him with this woman, in this condition, terrified him. What if they thought I did this? He was alone in the woods, with a woman who had obviously been the victim of some horrific crime. Despite the chill in the air, he wiped off a thin layer of perspiration that was forming on his forehead. He shook all over.

  He could not walk away and leave her here. But he was sure he did not want to be implicated in this terrible crime, either. Just then Chad heard the distant sound of joggers coming through another trail farther up the river and closer to Rockford Park. Chad ducked down for a minute until he no longer heard their voices. But then he had an idea. People use that trail in the morning, jogging and walking their dogs. Someone else could find her. She’ll be safe and I won’t get stuck in this at all.

  Chad removed his sweatshirt and spread it across the woman’s torso. Then he got up, looked around to make sure there was no one watching, and started running toward his house. He slipped quietly back into the kitchen and listened for his father. He heard the shower, so he grabbed the keys to his mother’s station wagon from the kitchen counter. When he got to the car, he was relieved to see that his mother’s old plaid picnic blanket was still in the back seat. He drove to the shoulder of the road near the gardener’s shed, parked the car, and looked quickly in every direction. He ran to the shed with the picnic blanket bundled loosely under his arm.

  As he got closer and could see the woman still on the ground, the sound of blood pumping in his head drowned out every other sound. His heart raced as he spread the blanket next to her. He squatted down and put his arms under her back and lifted her just enough to get her onto the blanket. Her body was still limp, and this time Chad noticed some bruising on her thighs when he put her down on the blanket. The stench of vomit, urine, and other nauseating smells filled his nostrils as he worked furiously. He wrapped the blanket around her, concealing her face and torso. He bent his knees, put his hands and forearms under her shoulders and buttocks and lifted. She weighed little more than the hundred-pound bags of fertilizer he routinely lifted. He awkwardly slung the whole load over his right shoulder and moved as quickly as he could toward the station wagon.

  Chad put his bundle down on the grass briefly to open the station wagon’s back door. He squatted down, and then lifted the bundle again with a groan. As he slid the woman into the car, he pulled the blanket away from her face to make sure she could breathe. The dashboard clock read 9:04 when he turned the key in the ignition. “Shit!” Chad said loudly, picturing his father’s wrath as he waited for him in the driveway. Chad drove up the road and turned in to the parking lot for Breck’s Mill. He drove fast through the empty lot to its outer edge, bordering the woods below Rockford Park.

  He heaved the woman in the plaid blanket over his shoulder one more time and took a deep breath. Her running shoes dangled out of the blanket and bumped his back as he walked quickly into the woods. He hid behind an evergreen, waiting for a group of four runners to come through. Once they were gone, he quickly carried his bundle to the exact spot where the runners had been, a sun-splashed section of trail under an oak tree. He lay her down as quickly as he could, gently rolling her body out of the blanket and placing her face up. He grabbed his sweatshirt, which had become entangled in the whole bundle, and dropped it next to him on the trail. Then he placed the blanket over the woman’s torso and quickly tucked it under her back and shoulders. He was afraid to remove her blindfold.

  Chad grabbed his sweatshirt off of the ground and started running back toward his car. He stopped and hid at a point where he could still see the plaid blanket with what appeared from his vantage to be a small lump beneath it. He was panicking about being late for his father and the certain storm of rage and reprisal when he returned. But he was even more frightened for this vulnerable woman who he watched over from afar. Chad waited for about eight minutes, which seemed like an eternity, before he heard voices.

  “Oh, my God! Come quick, Michael! Michael….MICHAEL!”

  Chad heard a woman’s urgent screams. He saw a young woman unzipping her sweatshirt and then crouching next to the woman lying on the ground. He watched as the young woman quickly removed the blindfold and untied the ropes on the woman’s wrists. Chad saw the young woman use one hand to elevate the woman’s head while she stroked her cheek with the other. With great relief, he saw the woman on the ground move her head and emit a loud cry as she regained consciousness.

  As he turned to escape to his car, Chad heard another person coming down the path toward the woman. A tall man ran down the trail with a little dog. Chad saw the man pull a cell phone out of his pocket and make a call. While they were absorbed in the woman’s rescue, Chad slowly and silently walked backwards, until he was sure they would not see or hear him. Then he turned and ran as fast as he could to his mother’s station wagon.

  CHAPTER 7

  KELLY: SEPTEMBER 24, 2011

  Kelly lay on an examination table with her feet in cold iron stirrups while a young woman with round glasses swabbed her in tender areas deep inside her body. “This will only take a minute. I am really sorry for any discomfort I am causing you. I know you have been through enough.”

  The woman’s words seemed rote as she continued to work methodically, collecting evidence as if she were swabbing a petri dish. Kelly stared at the ceiling and tried not to cry. She was exhausted, bruised, and her head throbbed with pain.

  “There. I am finished.” The woman put the last of three long swabs into a plastic bag marked Medical Evidence and peeled off her latex gloves. “I know it’s awful. I am so sorry. They’ll move you to a bed in a minute so you can finally rest, but I needed to do this now. My job is to help them catch the animal that did this.” The woman gently took Kelly’s legs out of the stirrups and awkwardly pulled down Kelly’s thin hospital robe.

  Kelly rolled onto her side and pulled her legs up against her chest. The woman’s attempt at compassion made Kelly cry again. Sobs wracked her body, her mouth opened and remained slack as shrieks and sobs came out in waves. Animal. Kelly heard the woman’s words echo in her head as she was pushed in a wheelchair to a hospital room. The same questions kept cycling through her mind. Who would hurt her like t
his? Why would someone hurt her like this? As Kelly eased into her bed, she heard Dan’s voice in the hallway. “Dan!” Kelly tried to call out, but her throat was dry from the sobbing.

  Dan poked his head in to the room hesitantly, with a look of anguish and fear on his face. His beautiful, strong, confident and happy wife had been replaced with a battered and vulnerable body curled into the fetal position. He stood with his fists clenched in the front pocket of his sweatshirt, his eyes locked on his wife’s pale, frightened face.

  “Dan?” Kelly asked, softly. “Please.” That was all Kelly could muster before her voice cracked and she started sobbing again.

  Dan rushed over to her side. Without looking into her eyes, he quietly took the cold, pale hand that peeked from under the hospital sheet and enveloped it in both of his hands. He bit his lip in his attempt to be strong.

  “Hi, baby, I’m here. I am so sorry. It’s going to be okay. I’m here. You’re safe.”

  “It’s… not…. going to…. be okay.” Kelly responded as she sobbed and tried to catch her breath. Kelly turned her face toward his and stared into his eyes. “I need to know what happened. Tell me everything you know, Dan, please!”

  He began hesitantly, “Well… this morning I knew something was wrong when you weren’t home in time for the girls’ soccer practice. So I dropped them off at practice and I started driving around all of the places that you run. I guess… about eight-thirty… I called your mom and asked her what she thought. Of course, she told me that if I did not call the police, she would. And then she said she was coming… right away. So I called the Wilmington Police and told them everything.”

  “What did the police say?” Kelly thought of herself bound and gagged on that cold hard floor while the police discussed her whereabouts with Dan over the phone.