by Joy Ohagwu
Second, based on Ritz’s attitude whenever they had any issues, she knew Ritz spoke to the Lord about her mom and her dad. That alone gave Ruby solace. Knowing her daughter had developed an even closer relationship with Jesus when Robert went missing and had prayed more than Ruby had expected instead of becoming antsy, showed her God was at work in her daughter.
Granted, Ritz had her idiosyncratic moments, but she was a Christian. For as long as that seed was sown, she knew—Ritz was safe in Christ. It would be a matter of God’s will whether she made it home or not, and Ruby hoped the result swung in her favor.
CHAPTER EIGHT
“The trees of the Lord are full of sap, the cedars of Lebanon which He planted.”- Psalm 104:16
Ruby returned to their bedroom, crossed to the window, and gazed outside. The trees she used to watch before Ritz was born had grown into gigantic beams. They looked back at her, speaking years of maturity. She waved a hand over her hair and swept it back, pulled it into a bun, and she perched by the windowsill.
Just like those trees, she had matured in her thinking as well. It seemed the enemy knew where to hit at her, where she was most vulnerable—her family. Her love for Robert and Ritz ran deep, and anything affecting them was sure to shake her to her roots. In the past, she had feared she would fall off the faith if something ever happened to her only child, wondering why God didn’t protect her.
This secret fear she’d shared with no one. Now, Ritz’s kidnapping forced her to face it. This entire situation tugged at the foundation of her faith and threatened to yank it. She swallowed hard and leaned her back against the wall. The most critical question was—if Ritz never made it back, will she still believe? Will Jesus still occupy the center of her life if, at the end of all this, her daughter was raped or something worse happened to her?
“What is the true price of my faith?” she muttered, watching the leaves of those trees wave in answer to the tug of winter’s stubborn breeze. The branches swayed in soft disorder, but the trunks still stood, held down by undulating roots clung together by dirt and rich soil below.
Year after year, the cold, snow, and ice never shook the trees’ roots. Summer’s heat and fall’s dryness shrunk their leaves, and they fell away. But their roots remained strong waiting and waiting.
“Waiting for spring’s rain. Waiting for water. Waiting to come alive again.” She had to wait too, for spring’s rain for her life, for Ritz. For the rain of good news. She could not allow winter’s bite of the present situation, summer’s heat of not knowing where Ritz was, or fall’s dryness of not seeing a means to get Ritz back, to kill the roots of her faith.
She had to keep believing and outlast the tough seasons. “I’m rooted and built up in Christ. Firmly rooted by His Word,” she muttered as a lone tear dropped and she fought the anguish in her heart, pleading with her to choose differently.
Outlast the tough season, Ruby, came quietly into her spirit, and she choked. “She’s my only child, Lord. But why?” Over the years, when trying situations came, all she knew was action. There was something to do, and she did it and got results.
Now, she still took action, but prayed more on her knees, realizing how temporal life was and how weak the most powerful weapon on earth worked compared to heaven’s. Experience had shown her how much she could change with a single sustained prayer.
She was well aware that she had little prayer time, thanks to her successful business. Yet she carved out thirty undisturbed minutes a day to speak with the Lord. But now, like those sturdy tree trunks that remained because they had survived every type of horrible weather, she needed to exert more faith, nurture her roots of faith in God with the Word so they became too deep for tests and trials to expel.
She decided to double her daily communion time with the Lord to one hour, even if it meant waking up earlier. “More of the Word, more time with Jesus,” she whispered, pulling the curtains closed and rising to her feet.
Acting on her latest choice, she picked up her cell phone from beside the bed. She spun and began speaking the Word of God from her Bible app, over Ritz. She confessed any sins her daughter may have committed, asking for forgiveness. Then she settled in to plead with the Lord to intervene in her captivity and return Ritz home safe while Robert took care of the physical aspects of the search for Ritz. Having been held captive by Pete Zendel years ago, she knew how Ritz was feeling, and that spurred her more.
Ruby stayed there in prayer, determined not to leave until peace calmed her spirit that her prayers were answered. One way or another, she was overcoming this new war, and her faith in Christ would not go down with it.
An hour later, she went downstairs to welcome Robert home, feeling much lighter, but still surprised to see him return in the middle of the day when he would usually be at the station.
He breezed through the door and kissed her. “Hey, my love.” He stood back and studied her face, holding it gingerly between his hands while kicking the door shut. “Hanging in there?”
She smiled and nodded, patting his back. “More than hanging in. Fighting in prayer.” Firm resolve built by faith steeled her spine. “Ritz will return to us by God’s grace. I don’t know how, but I believe God and I need you to believe it as well.”
His hands lowered and wrapped around her middle, and he rested her neck on his shoulder. “There’s the fighter I know in you.” He smiled a little. “My Red is back. I was afraid for a minute that you’d lost hope. I was praying for you. Let’s win this fight,” he leaned her up and gazed into her brown eyes with his emeralds, “and by God’s grace, our family will be complete again.”
Ruby nodded, feeling weird, and unable to speak. Somehow, having Robert here comforted her immensely, but something was wrong in her belly. She held his shoulder and stood back a little. Her head spun, and she clutched her stomach as a frown creased her brow. “I think I’m about to be sick,” she managed to say before rushing to the kitchen and emptying her belly’s contents into the trash.
Robert helped her clean up after she was done and she sat on a kitchen stool. He eyed her with a worried glance, and his brows dipped. “Are you all right? What did you eat?”
He perched a hand on his hip. “Did you even eat?” That chiding curve of his eyebrows beneath full lashes, that she knew so well, flashed at her again. She could ask him the same questions, but hey, he wasn’t the one puking.
She simply shook her head and wiped her mouth with a napkin. “Nothing, really. But I don’t think this is hunger. I feel as though there’s a problem with my stomach. Maybe it’s a bug or allergy to some food?”
He curled a supportive arm around her shoulder and led her toward the door, unlocking it. “Why don’t I take you to see the doctor just so we are sure you’re all right? I don’t want to take any chances.”
She nodded and grabbed her jacket from a hook on the wall-mounted coatrack close to the front door. After she changed from her indoor house shoes into tall gray boots and slipped on her hat and thick gloves, they took off, with her praying that the weakness now dragging down her limbs was simply due to not having eaten much in the past day and not something worse.
Ritz Towers bowed herself over the lower bunk bed and lifted her gaze. The time—according to the round clock leaning against the wall on the cluttered longitudinal desk was one p.m.—if it was correct. She knew not to believe any information she saw around this room and also remained careful not to show how much she wanted to leave.
“Those rice crispies were horrible,” the other girl whispered. The girl, who appeared to be about two years her junior, sat on a pile of clothes by the far wall. Her brown hair had been braided neatly to the center and rolled into a bun held in place with a blue and white hairband.
Ritz smiled and looked past her, around the place again.
A small area had been sectioned off by a glass demarcation she couldn’t see beyond, which was dark. The lone forty-watt bulb poorly illuminated the room. She had listened through the wall for hours, ho
ping to hear something or someone but heard nothing. Appliances, of indistinguishable use, littered the room. They’d gathered dust, and a few spider webs draped over the farthest ones, the ones that looked like old stereos. Wires, blending with the tangled cobwebs, protruded from some of them—what was their intended use?
Had the room once been a mobile appliance repair shop? She strongly suspected so with the number of tangled wires, cables, nuts, and bolts, and coupled with the flooring’s hollow sound.
“Did you hear what I said?”
Ritz swung her gaze toward the girl once more. A few stray brown curls spiraled down her young face, and her gray eyes twinkled despite the lack of good lighting. Her charming, hopeful attitude already proved indispensable.
“I said the crispies tasted like sandpaper. There was no salt and so much sugar that it turned bitter in my mouth. The soup was worse.” The girl pulled her legs up close in the lower bunk, and the brown sheets under her crinkled.
Ritz hadn’t even heard her move from the clothes in the corner to the bed. Some observation she was doing. She suppressed the urge to snort and forced herself to respond. “Yes, I heard you.”
But her mind was drifting far away, and it seemed, so was the girl’s. How do I get away from here?
The girl twisted loose threading from her sweater around her forefinger. “Around this time, Mom would make me one of her favorite casseroles.” She smiled. “I would pretend I didn’t want to eat it, just so I could get an extra portion.” Her shoulders fell. “Now, I would give anything to tell her how much I loved both her and the food.” Her eyes took on a sad blink as she leaned in and whispered, “You think we’ll ever go home again?”
Ritz was just asking herself the same question. “What’s your name?”
“Lori. You?”
“Ritz.” She stood up and twisted to face Lori. “I—”
The door groaned open, and bright light flooded the room. Feet shuffled in, and Ritz and Lori spun to look.
Rough blond hair swept side to side on a curved form as a girl was led in. Her hair covered her face, and bruises blotched her bare arms. Her coat, torn and bloodstained, flapped open, unbuttoned, the sleeves shoved up and bunched around her elbows. The man who had kidnapped Ritz gave each of them what she presumed to be a warning glare, spun, and left with a gun swishing on his waist.
After he shut the door and locked them in, Ritz moved toward the new girl and tapped her shoulder where she sat on the ground. “Are you all right? Can I help you?”
The new girl swept hair off her face, revealing reddened eyes. “Yes. Help me get out of here. Please.”
“I’m afraid, that’s one thing I can’t do for you.” Ritz stepped back as the girl let out a low growl and stood, shifting unsteadily on her legs as though her feet were injured.
“Then I guess I’ll need to do it by myself.” She rose, stumbled to the door, and started banging on it, cussing at the man on the other side. “Get me out of here! I want to go home!”
Ritz stiffened. This new girl’s attitude could get the three of them in trouble when her own goal was to reach home alive.
CHAPTER NINE
“And God will wipe away every tear from their eyes.”- Revelations 21:4
Robert checked his watch again. Past three p.m. Ruby was still inside consulting with the doctors after they had branched into the SSPD for a quick update. She had insisted that they go there first as she was feeling slightly better.
Any news on Ritz trumped her current needs, she’d said. They had gone through new reports of possible Ritz sightings, but none of them checked out so they headed to the hospital. They’d run a couple of tests and insisted Ruby stay on bedrest until the preliminary results came back.
Leaning forward in the waiting area and supporting his head with a hand, Robert felt as though he had been handed more than he could cope with. In all his years of police work, protecting others remained his main goal. And he had done it gladly. He had also not worried about his family for a long time, knowing they were safe. With Ritz kidnapped, he was out of his depth in dealing with it. At first, he’d been angry. Then anger morphed into frustration when he confronted the kidnapper on the chase and bungled it. Now, he was worried. Did they take out their anger on Ritz for his rescue attempt? Was she still alive?
His chest tightened, willing things to go in other directions. He recalled with sadness when Ritz had been four years old and had fallen off a swing at the playground. The recreation center staff had said another child pushed Ritz off, leading to a bruised knee and elbow. He and Ruby had taken Ritz to the hospital and had the wounds treated against infection, and he’d determined no one would ever hurt her again.
So the next day, he went out and bought a full swing set and, within a couple of days, had it installed in their backyard. They hired someone to watch Ritz while she played and Ruby worked inside at their home office. After a couple of years, when she outgrew it, they donated the swing set to the orphanage and savored seeing those kids excited about it.
This time, Ritz faced greater danger, from a source they knew nothing about and for a reason that occurred prior to her birth. After discussing it with Ruby, they had chosen not to reveal details of The New Rulebook and their encounters as a result of it, to Ritz until she reached adulthood.
Two years ago, though, they had needed to skim the issue to give Ritz a bit of a background to the things Zendel had mentioned at the orphanage event. They informed her that, due to their close encounter with a bad guy many years back, their lives had been in danger and Pete Zendel had been a part of those after them. But that now, everything was all right, and she had nothing to worry about.
But, now, was that still true?
Of course, Ruby was holding on strong and trusting God. He knew he was not quite at that trust level yet. His one thought had been to outsmart the enemy and grab Ritz before they reached their destination. But that plan failed. Now he was left with pieces of evidence to scrape through and find…something that would lead them to her in less than twenty-four hours.
The outpatient unit doors opened, and Ruby exited, holding some sheets of paper. She stopped at the door a few feet away and glanced at him. Something in her eyes made him rise too.
As soon as it came, it was gone, but he’d seen something there. Was she okay? Was it terrible news? He swallowed, definitely sure he could handle no more bad news concerning the two people he loved most.
She shuffled her feet and clutched her coat tighter, zipping it up and gradually putting on her gloves, like she was buying time to think. That scared him further.
He swallowed hard and cracked his knuckles. Tension wrapped around his mind, and he tried not to imagine the worst.
Lord, please let there not be something wrong. I can’t handle any more. Please, Jesus. He took her purse and looped a hand through her elbow, heading toward the doors. “So, what did the doctors say?” He studied her reaction behind full lashes, willing his heart to stop thumping crazily. Please say nothing is wrong, Ruby, please. I can’t lose you too.
She simply shrugged. “That I need to rest.” She extracted her hand, strode past him, exited, and left him standing. She’d never done such before. She tapped her feet anxiously at the door. He didn’t move. If there was bad news, she was likely not to tell him right away, and her intentional distance scared him. He chose to close it and curled a hand around her waist. She stiffened at his touch, and that alarmed him even more. That, had not happened in twenty years. Something was definitely off.
They strode out of the hospital and made for the parking garage. He reached out again and took her hand, and this time, she didn’t move away but instead snugged closer. What was going on? His brow crinkled, and blood rushed through his ears. He was getting more confused. Was she fine or not?
They reached their parking level. He remotely unlocked their car and opened her door for her. As she climbed in gingerly, he prayed more earnestly. Lord, please don’t give me more than I can handle. P
lease, Lord.
Summoning faith for Ritz’s return was one thing. But issues with Ruby’s health would tear him apart at the seams, a place he already found himself to be.
He rounded the Navigator, climbed in, and inserted the key, but his fingers felt heavy, heavier than his heart. He could not get himself to turn it and start the vehicle.
He twisted his head and met Ruby’s glassy eyes swimming with unshed tears. He let the keys go and leaned against the gear, while the edge pressed into his side. He turned her face gently. “Red, what’s wrong?”
A tear dropped in response, and his heart pounded louder in his chest. He turned, kneeled down on one knee on his seat while leaning his elbow on his headrest, and faced her fully. “Red, you’re scaring me. What happened in there? What did the doctors say? Are you really sick?” His jacket pressed against the side of her seat as he leaned forward further, their faces now inches apart.
She wiped her cheek with a hand and reached into her purse, both hands trembling. She pulled a piece of paper out of a stack, handing it to him, sniffing.
His heart beat rapidly as he studied it. Then his eyes settled on the last line and shot up to meet hers. His jaw dropped and he scanned her face. His throat closed, and he couldn’t speak as the paper fell to the floor.
Seeing his struck face, she nodded to assure him the news was real. Then she burst fully into tears.
Robert twisted the opposite way, pulled the key out of the ignition, opened the door, and jumped down in one swift move. He ran around the vehicle and opened Ruby’s door. She climbed down and they stood there, tears streaming down both their faces.
“Ritz should be here…for this,” he croaked, wrapping a hand around her waist and waltzing into a slow dance with no music.
Ruby moved in his arms, in line with the dance, and nodded. “Yes, she should,” she sniffed and responded.
He inched back a bit and smiled for the first time since the news hit him like a ton of brick—a good ton. “How many weeks pregnant?”
