by Ronda Pauley
When they left, Tina rested and felt energized, thinking about what new things she’d like to do for fun. Maybe today she wasn’t as strong as she wanted to be, but she knew she was much healthier than she had been. Maybe, just maybe, she would actually get to leave the hospital.
The head nurse for the floor came to see her.
“Is today the day I get to leave?” Tina asked.
“No,” the nurse said. “Not unless the doctor comes, checks you, and gives the OK, but that seems unlikely. Sorry, sweetie. We’re doing all we can.”
When her father returned, Tina told him about the two women who came to visit. Maybe because of the trauma Tina had been through, or maybe because he was a policeman who suspected criminals around every corner, but for some unknown reason, her father went off. He ran out into the hallway and started yelling, wanting to know who it was who thought it was alright to bring visitors in to see Tina.
Tina started crying. Just when she thought her father had changed, he reverted back to himself.
“Dad,” she yelled. “Mrs. Hightower sent them. It’s OK.”
So much for privacy, she thought. Better to find a hobby she could really throw herself into and not worry so much about her father and things he said.
He returned to the room, still red-faced.
“Someone should have asked me,” he said.
Tina smiled at him.
“I’m really glad you care, Daddy, and you know what? You’re not the only one. There are some good people out there! It’s OK to relax.”
Tina was very proud of herself for being ready to believe that.
Not long afterwards, Mrs. Hightower called to check on Tina. She talked to Officer Benson and asked if Tina could get clearance to go to a little celebration later that evening.
Her father told Mrs. Hightower that they’d ask the doctor. Tina wouldn’t be doing anything without the doctor’s approval.
“Dad, let me!” Tina pleaded. “I’m getting better fast!”
SIXTY-SIX
At the sight of Miss Shoe everyone in the room cheered. Pushing away their monitors and their chairs, they stood up to applaud. Following Miss Shoe into the room were Big Sam, and Mr. and Mrs. Pelletier.
“Mom!” Abbi yelled, who understood by now how unlikely the odds were of such a quick release.
Abbi’s mother looked at her with love and admiration. She didn’t take her eyes off Abbi as Abbi made her way awkwardly, relying on her walker, to get through the crowded room toward her.
They hugged. Abbi didn’t want to let her go. When she finally released her mother, she stood back and looked at her mother all over. She saw how haggard-looking her mother had become over just the recent weeks, but what a beautiful smile!
Abbi whispered into her mother’s ear, “Are you OK? They didn’t hurt you?”
“I haven’t had a complete physical yet and, I understand, they’re going to do my debriefing here later tonight,” her mother said. “But I’m doing fine, I think. Are you OK?” She indicated Abbi’s cast.
“Oh this? This is nothing!”
“Nothing, huh? Thank God you used the reports! I’m so very proud of my daughter. I don’t know how you did it, but they tell me you’re the reason I’m free.” Then she raised her voice. “Hey, everyone, in case no one told you, this is my baby girl!”
Abbi laughed, incredibly happy in the moment.
Someone said, “I thought so!” but others sneered at him.
“Oh, is it OK that they know she’s my mother?” Abbi asked Big Sam.
“If not, it’s a little late now, given the collective deductive reasoning skills in this room,” Big Sam said.
Miss Shoe laughed.
Abbi turned away to smile at the room full of people. Everyone seemed happy. Louise beamed at Abbi, and Abbi mouthed, ‘Thank you!’ Scott sat nearby, looking pleased. Lowell looked triumphant, no longer sulking about Calista, and he still had his trumpet in hand, still had what appeared to be very kissable lips, although Abbi tried to dismiss that thought. Mr. Pelletier smiled a real smile, for once, and looked satisfied that the CIA had a hand in the success. Mrs. Pelletier had the ability to be invisible but was standing behind her husband.
Then something caught Abbi’s eye, something cold and sinister. It was as if she fell into slow motion. She remembered the vision, the man standing behind her mother. Her mother’s head limp. Suddenly Abbi knew what the vision had meant.
When attention to her and her mother died down a little, she had the opportunity to hug her mother again, this time with the added intention of taking a better look. Her worst premonitions returned to haunt her as her hand brushed aside her mother’s dark hair and revealed an inked-in leopard that peered viciously at her from behind loose strands on her mother’s honey-colored neck. The flames of the tattoo seemed to consume her mother’s skin. And there, inside that leopard’s mouth was the pathetic illustration of a girl screaming for help. This was the dreaded tattoo specifically used by NM2 to brand their victims. Their brand of ownership for their sex slaves!
For a moment, Abbi’s knees felt weak.
“Let’s sit down, Mom. Everyone wants to see you but you have to be tired.”
“This is heavenly,” her mother said. “I’m still amazed that you found me!”
“Smart Shoes! And you had all the information right there in your reports. The pieces eventually came into focus. Then, in a vision, I saw you and knew you were in trouble. I had to do something!”
“That’s it. You SAW. It wasn’t all in my notes. You pieced it together,”
her mother whispered back. “And it wasn’t just the shoes. Thank you.”
Abbi stepped back and looked at her mother’s face deeply. Her mother’s eyes would tell more than words would reveal. Her mother, usually so beautiful, so good-hearted—what had they done to her? Abbi instantly recalled visions she had seen. When they embraced again, Abbi closed her eyes and took in the full smell of her mother’s skin. Thank God she was back! Now her healing could begin.
When others in the room started asking questions, Abbi opened her eyes and released herself from her mother’s embrace.
Abbi hobbled over to the Pelletiers, and told them how amazing both Louise and Lowell had been. Mr. Pelletier seemed especially happy to hear it. Mrs. Pelletier simply nodded, as if surprised but not really believing.
Then Abbi tried to get her mother a drink, listening hard to hear the questions people were asking.
“Let’s just say they didn’t want me to leave, ever, and I’m so indescribably happy to be away from there!” her mother said hurriedly in answer to a staffer’s question. “But we’re not going into the debriefing just yet, are we? I want Mrs. Hightower here and there are others here who don’t need to be present.”
Abbi knew her mother meant her. She returned with Shoe Clerk, who carried a drink and a plate of refreshents for Abbi’s mother. Although she wanted to protect her mother from the interrogations, the nosy interviewers, and the gossip mongers, that wasn’t her role. Abbi would learn more on an “as-needed basis”, as always. And debriefing would go according to protocol, Big Sam had said.
Her mother changed the topic and turned to Abbi.
“Abbi, have you seen your dad? How is he?”
Abbi jolted herself back to her mother’s inquiry. She sat down. What could she say? She had been told to say that he was improving, but was it true? What she and her mother both needed was honesty, openness, and no more avoiding the truth.
“Abbi? Your father, is he doing alright?” her mother rephrased.
“I saw him twice,” Abbi said, trying to sound cheerful but avoiding her mother’s eyes and her questions. “It was great to see him, to get to talk to him again! He knew me! And he could talk!”
She didn’t say that the hospital staff had him hooked up to a respirator or that he had trouble breathing on his own. She didn’t say that he had apparently worsened from one day to the next, that he might be dying in spite of what Bi
g Sam said.
“I’m told he will be dismissed in a couple of days,” Abbi’s mother said happily, but she sounded more reserved. Quietly, she asked, “From what you can sense, what do you think, Abbi?”
Abbi knew they were not telling her mother the truth. As Big Sam came near them, Abbi quickly whispered to her mother, “Mom, you need to see Dad. While you can. ASAP.”
Apparently, Big Sam didn’t hear the conversation.
“Miss Shoe needs nourishment and some rest,” Big Sam said and held out
another plate of food for her.
“Oh, my, Sam! How can I eat all this? You have been so good to us!” Abbi’s mother said. “Thank you for having my daughter here!”
“My pleasure! She is strong and assertive, but every bit the lady you are, Miss Shoe. She is largely the one to thank for executing your release, tirelessly explaining your reports to people.”
“Some of their ideas were off the mark. I knew your work was thorough and first-hand,” Abbi said.
“As you probably guessed, Miss Shoe, Miss Kowalski risked a lot doing that stunt in the woods. We knew people were watching her. With her training and her size, I believed that she could handle this mission. From the moment I mentioned it, there was no talking her out of it. She’s more like her mother than even you know,” Big Sam said.
Abbi’s mother sat silently for a moment, looking at Abbi, beaming.
“I’m so very proud of you!” her mother said in a whispery voice.
Abbi blushed. Her mother looked at her with tremendous admiration.
“It was great just to be able to do SOMETHING! Your filing system helped.”
“Our secret code, Fred’s Boots. I knew you’d pick up on it,” her mother whispered. Then, louder for others, she said, “Everyone, listen up! The work we did was not in vain. We’ve made progress in our fight against human trafficking. Unfortunately, NM2 wanted to keep me and weren’t making it easy for me to leave. Thank you all for the roles you played in arranging my release!”
“Basically, NM2 abandoned you in that cottage in the woods, thinking no one could find you,” Big Sam said. “Were they coming back to get you? Why they didn’t sell you to their Brazilian business man, I just couldn’t figure out.” He literally scratched his head.
“I told them I was dying of AIDS, that I’d be dead before they could get me to Brazil. But that meant I had to vomit a lot, a trick I learned from an anorexic friend in high school. This food is wonderful, by the way!”
The group laughed.
“That must have done the trick. The information in your reports let us know exactly who we were dealing with,” Big Sam said. “It helped us form our strategy to pull together a multi-jurisdictional task force that went to Texas to finish the job you and Mr. Schumann set out to do. You’ll be happy to know that even your friends, Mr. Pelletier here and others at the CIA, were quite involved. You gave us quite a scare.”
“I should have known that someday my work would catch up with me and bite me in the ass,” Abbi’s mother said. “But I have real mixed feelings about pulling Abbi into it. All of us in this line of work seem to think that risking our own lives is worth it. But going after Abbi was not something I thought they would do. I didn’t protect her as well as I thought.”
“But, Mom, don’t you see? You and Dad taught me important skills. You are my mentors! You, especially, are my role model. Lowell helped out in lots of ways and showed me some great self-defense moves.”
Lowell smiled. Mr. Pelletier looked over at him with different eyes.
“Thanks, but I always figured that being your mother was the most important job I’d ever do,” her mother said, looking happy. She leaned forward on the couch beside Abbi. “When they found out my identity, they got angry. Calista had been staying in touch with her boyfriend in NM2. Word travels fast. They used Calista to go after you.”
“Yeah,” Lowell said. “And she used me!”
“That’s what she does, Lowell. Now, Abbi, you see why I’ve needed to protect you. There are some very unscrupulous people out there.”
Lowell went out into the hall. Abbi wondered if he felt betrayed by Calista. Well, of course! But how badly had he been taken in by her? As it all rolled out, he also eventually betrayed Calista. Full circle.
“You’re making this world a safer place, Mom. When I was younger, for a short time, I believed the whole Fred’s Boots Incorporated thing. You did what you had to do. So will I. Just like you.”
“No, not just like me. Choose another line of work.”
“You still want to do this, don’t you?” Abbi asked cautiously, challenging her mother to focus on the future.
“Yes, but…” her mother said. “Of course. I started something I can’t let go of, but right now I just want to be home.”
“Do what you have to do. We’ll make time to hang out.”
“Thanks,” her mother said, patting her on the knee. “I like the way you think! I do love the work but this last round shook me. We’ll see.”
Abbi slid over a little on the couch, indicating to Big Sam that she wanted him to sit beside her too. She looked to see if Lowell had come back in. But no.
“There were lots of people working on this! Big Sam was wonderful. And so many others! What a great team! I met Shoe Clerk finally,” Abbi said, and waved to him. She gave her mother a hug. “I’m so glad you’re back!”
“So, you girls having a nice reunion?” Big Sam asked when he sat down.
“Yes, we are, and I understand someone else is going to join us tonight,” Abbi’s mother said.
“Yes, we have other guests lined up for this glorious occasion,” Big Sam said.
He left them to get a few champagne bottles out of the refrigerator, placed some champagne flutes and plastic cups on the counter, and then returned to Abbi and her mother, looking pleased. He banged two champagne flutes together so that it became apparent that he wanted to talk.
“Quiet, please! Everyone! It’s important that you know that many others will benefit from your fine work,” Big Sam said with a nod. “Not only were you able to secure Miss Shoe’s release through the aid of cutting-edge technology but also with the gifted vision of a certain young lady here, AND it is also my pleasure to announce that we are meeting success in another related mission.”
Just then, Abbi heard Gate Keeper’s trumpet and knew Lowell was right outside the door. This time Lowell played “Charge!” right before he came in and made his announcement.
“Large and In-Charge! I present Mrs. Hightower!”
At that moment, Mrs. Hightower walked in. Big Sam moved close to her and gave Mrs. Hightower a great big movie-style kiss.
“Well, it looks like I arrived just in time!” she said, somewhat flustered. Then she responded by kissing him back.
Big Sam became wide-eyed and smiled before he continued, “Yes, and I was saying that, as we speak, a multijurisdictional task force, that includes the cooperation of the Mexican government, has quickly moved in on a child exploitation ring and is currently performing a smart raid in what we believe will be a very successful sting operation. We are securing extradition for the sex traffickers involved in the case of the Mexican cantina and will see that the rescued American victims, some of them children, get restorative services from a network of NGO’s.”
Abbi asked, “What are NGO’s?”
“Non-profit services providers that are crucial in getting help to these victims so that they can live happy productive lives,” Big Sam said.
Mrs. Hightower added more information by saying, “Non-governmental organizations. In several communities these groups have formed coalitions and can quickly come to the aid of a victim.”
Then Big Sam spoke again, “This is critical. Could we please observe a moment of prayer for the success of this smart raid?”
The room became silent for a full two minutes before Big Sam said, “Thank you all for the critical work you provided. And now I want to thank Mrs. Hightower
, who was the mastermind behind all the cooperative efforts.”
“What a quickly executed plan! It’s enough to give an old lady whiplash! It took everyone involved, but we did it! The best work of my life, thanks to all of you, and a special thank-you to Miss Kowalski here! Now, I’m ready to announce that I am retiring!” Mrs. Hightower said. “I think I’ve earned a little rest! And it’s high time we pulled my family back together!”
“Hear ye! Hear ye!” Mr. Pelletier said.
“Thank you, Mother Dear!” Abbi’s mother said.
There were murmurings in the room.
“Oh! You didn’t know? Yes, the feared Mrs. Hightower is my mother,” Abbi’s mother admitted.
“It’s time, yes, to acknowledge this fact. Besides, I heard it mentioned that some people, higher-ups, didn’t like that I broke a few rules,” Mrs. Hightower said. She glanced at the thin man who made a habit of standing quietly in corners, this time unnoticed by Abbi. “Well, we broke a few eggs, but we made the most fantastic omelet, didn’t we?”
Abbi nodded and looked at the thin man. Others agreed. The thin man shifted.
“Better yet, we retrieved the Missing Shoe and now some people have been caught barefooted! No, we didn’t follow official protocol, so some people on up the payscale aren’t happy with me. I’m old enough to retire and I’m doing it!”
“Operation Missing Shoe, accomplished!” the thin man said, and applauded slowly, just him, getting everyone’s attention. “I’m not saying you have to, but some of the shenanigans you pulled will be a blemish on the Bureau. You acted hastily, in a way quite unlike some of our protocol. Still, only you could have pulled this all together. And I congratulate you, Mrs. Hightower!”
“Oh, praiseworthy remarks from the director, indeed! Thank you!” Mrs. Hightower said. “Through the grace of God, we all did it. And thank you, Mr. Director, for allowing me free reign to do what I felt needed doing.”
The group applauded. Someone led a verse of “For She’s the Jolly Old Fella!”
