Eliwese awoke on a small cot in the same dark room with every inch of her body in pain. She lay perfectly still taking mental inventory of her injuries when she became aware of a presence in the room. A man sat on a wooden chair, leaning back on two legs against the wall.
Everything she’d been told about the underground led her to believe she would be safe here. No one had warned her of a possible attack or beating. She would have prepared by bracing her mind to think of it as a small price to pay for the end results, or rationalized the abuse as a means to an end, but this had caught her off guard. This place proved to be no different than any other place she’d gone.
She tried to focus on the man’s face but she couldn’t make her eyes cooperate, and she realized one eye had swollen completely shut. She couldn’t take deep breaths because of the excruciating pain in her ribs. Her left leg between the knee and ankle had sharp pains and was most likely broken. She tried to wiggle her left hand and fingers but it was no good, too much pain. As she finished up her evaluation of her physical condition, a wave of relief flooded over her body; she had not been raped.
She let out a small sigh which caught the attention of the man against the wall. He leaned forward, bringing the two front legs of his chair down to the floor with a thud. Eliwese jumped with a start, which in turn, sent pain coursing throughout her body.
The man stood up and walked over to her side.
“Eliwese, Eliwese…. what am I going to do with you?”
His all too recognizable voice resonated through her small body. Why was he here at the secret underground compound? This place was where people fled to in order to hide from him. Somebody must have ratted her out, and now her plan had failed before it had even begun.
“I warned you, I threatened you, but you wouldn’t listen to me. Somewhere deep inside is a constant churning of senselessness and you should be smarter than this, Eliwese.” His breath reeked of tobacco and whiskey and sickened her as each burst of air hit her cheek. She had never been able to tolerate his smell. The memories associated with his aroma nauseated her and bile began to climb up her throat.
She tried to talk but only a gurgle would come out. Her tongue seemed to fill her entire mouth and she tasted blood. Fear overtook her, body and mind. She thought about how this man had been such a significant part of her life up to this point, the one man she was truly running from, and now he knew of her plans. She wondered if he would return her home, or simply kill her.
His size out-measured hers, along with his age, by a long shot. He bent low over her cot and placed his hand on the side of her face, caressing her gently as a lover would. She cringed at his attempt of tenderness and was disgusted at the thought of what would come next.
“You think by cutting your hair and changing its color, you can hide from me?” He ran his fingers through her short black hair. Her scalp hurt in places that, no doubt, were bruised and swollen from the attack. She flinched away from his contact and squeezed her one good eye shut in an effort to get him to stop. He leaned even closer and whispered in her ear, “You’ll never be rid of me, little one. I know where you’re going, hell, I arranged everything.” He laughed sadistically.
“You?” Her throat wouldn’t let her say anything else, she didn’t need to.
“Does this shock you, Eliwese?”
She closed her eyes in resignation.
“I will keep my eye on you and I will always know what you are doing. I will always know who you are with and if you think for a second you can escape my grasp, I’ll kill your mother and sister.” He straightened himself upright towering over her.
“Father?” She attempted to ask if her father knew about the underground.
“Oh, Victor will get what’s coming to him. I’ll handle him when it will best suit my endeavors. You see, once my place is secured in the palace, he will no longer be needed.”
His comment both answered her prior question and gave her an all new one. Clearly, her father didn’t realize what his closest confidant was up to.
“So, go take your little vacation, Eliwese, but never forget I will,” he said emphatically as he unfastened his belt, “father the next ruler of Rendier.”
*****
Sean Cutler sat on the bench at Bill’s Pharmacy waiting for his order to be filled. He ran his fingers through his dark brown hair, realizing he needed a haircut soon. He preferred his hair to be short, trim and clean cut.
He watched the other customers with amusement as he waited. A young mother wrestled with her son who couldn’t have been more than four years old. He wanted candy but his mother refused. By the way the little boy carried on, Sean figured the candy would win out in the end. It did.
An elderly man stood in line with the aid of his walker, smiling at the young female cashier. The girl chomped on her bubblegum and threw flirtatious glances to a handsome young man who happened to be standing behind the elderly man. Poor old guy, Sean thought, he thinks she’s flirting with him.
Sean glanced over to the newspaper magazine rack and read some of the headlines: ‘Record Trout caught on Slater Lake weighing nineteen pounds.’ Another title read: ‘Northtown gears up for visit from Rendierian leader, Victor Rawlings.’
Great, Sean thought to himself sarcastically, Rawlings in our back yard, that’s just what we need. He wondered what would bring the dictator to their country.
Another headline read: ‘Jaime Knutson’s exclusive interview with Victor Rawlings and the state of his country.’ The smaller print read: ‘Pres. Rawlings gives an inside look into his country’s largest diamond mine, deep in the Trejo Mountain Range.’
Sean walked over to the magazine and thumbed through to find the article. He skimmed through the story touching on the absurd claims that the nation was in the best financial situation in one hundred years. The individual comments of praise and admiration for Victor Rawlings made Sean think that perhaps behind the camera stood a soldier toting an M60 for gentle persuasion. Right, like Rendierians need persuasion to say kind things about their leader; if they said anything negative today, they’d be missing tomorrow. Still, most people around the world believed this insane propaganda.
Even in Slaterville, the closest town to the border of Rendier, most residents weren’t aware of the dangers lurking nearby. Sean understood all too well because of his upbringing. His own mother Sara Cutler escaped from Rendier when she was eighteen.
He put the magazine back and his eye caught a men’s magazine featuring a well known shirtless movie star on the front. Sean compared his own body with the picture. The only thing the movie star had over Sean was about fifty million dollars.
At twenty-four years of age, Sean’s features were chiseled and well defined. His physique was anything but wimpy and he didn’t have an ounce of fat on him. Unfortunately, a hunky body wasn’t always enough. In fact, the cute young cashier probably drooled over the pictured movie star, but would she think the same of Sean?
“Cutler,” the pharmacist called out and Sean walked over to pay for the prescriptions. He caught the attention of the cashier and smiled at her. She didn’t give him the time of day. Yep, nailed that one on the head, Sean mused to himself.
Sean exited the building into the cool fall air. The late afternoon sun shone brightly, illuminating all of the changing colors filling the valley where he lived. Many trees were still green but they wouldn’t stay that way for long. He took a deep lung full of the crisp, clean autumn air and walked to his truck. He climbed in and emptied the bag of medications on the seat. He scanned the contents to make sure the entire order was filled correctly. Everything checked out and he crammed the bottles back inside the bag. He put it with the other supplies he’d collected on his errand run for his mother.
Today’s errand running had also involved driving a man to the Northtown Airport. ‘James’ escaped from Rendier a little over a month ago and had been ‘in hiding’ at Sean’s home. Today, ‘James’ began his new life as a Baylend resident under a new assumed
name and identity.
Sean’s family including his mother and father, younger brother and older sister, all worked together in the dangerous and illegal business of housing border crossers. For four generations the Cutler family has continued to help crossers, and if Sean’s parents had their way, they’d continue until death.
He started his truck and began to drive back home. Sean loved the small town he lived in with the impressive mountain ranges framing the valley. The northern Seojo mountains were spectacular and beautiful, and the southern Trejo range were rugged and ominous; Rendier lay beyond the thirty mile vastness of that range along with Victor Rawlings, his dormant military and all of his submissive countrymen.
Sean looked to the Seojo Mountains and imagined the wind in his face as he raced down one of the many ski slopes. Winter would arrive soon and he hoped he would be able to hit the slopes at least once. Maybe his fiancée, Chandra, would try to learn this winter.
Sean signaled to turn into the parking lot of The DoubleScoop ice cream parlor. Chandra worked today and Sean had a hankering for some Double Chocolate Fudge. After parking, he entered the busy shop and got in line. He saw his fiancée serving customers and she caught his eye. He winked and she smiled. From a reasonable distance, she was every man’s dream.
“How may I help you, sir?” she spoke in her super sweet voice as Sean stepped up to place his order.
“The usual, ma’am,” he announced formally.
“You always eat the same thing. Why don’t you try something else like this Pistachio Dream?” She tried to tantalize his senses with the wave of her hand.
“Nope, I stick with what I know, and I know Double Chocolate Fudge is good.”
She scooped up his serving. “So, what are you doing here?”
“What time do you get off tonight?”
“Really? Are you finally free?” Her eyes lit up with excitement.
“Yes. I took him to the airport this morning.” He smiled even though she’d just jabbed his chosen form of employment. The all too familiar nagging voice in the back of his mind told him once again, like it had so many other times, run, stupid, run.
“Well, it’s about time. Six o’clock.” She handed him the ice cream and he gave her money.
“Do you want me to pick you up?” He asked.
“No, I’ll come to your house.”
“Alright, see you then.” Sean left the store with his dessert and sat in his truck to eat it. His mind wandered to Chandra and their relationship. He met Chandra Stevens at The DoubleScoop earlier that spring when he stopped in for his favorite double chocolate fudge. Her beauty and smoking hot body sucked him right in. She was new to the area with plans to attend the community college in the fall. Their dating relationship accelerated and before Sean knew it, he was engaged. He technically didn’t even propose to her. She simply convinced him it would be wonderful to be married to him and persuaded him to purchase a pricey diamond ring for her.
Whenever Sean thought about Chandra, his thoughts would get muddled. He couldn’t sort out exactly what he felt for her, and it was too exhausting to try to talk to her about it. She had a way about her that seemed to smooth out all the rough edges, yet expose all new ones. Sean attributed most of her behavior to the fact they didn’t get much time together. Housing border crossers didn’t allow for much quality time.
Her ambitions of going to college never materialized. Whenever Sean brought up the topic, she’d say, “I think the woman’s place is in the home with the children, like your mother. You’re the man; you should provide me a home to raise our children.” Nothing made Sean squirm more than the thought of little ‘Chandras’ running around. Yet, she was beautiful, so Sean should just be happy she wanted him, or at least that’s what she said.
Sean turned out on the road leading him home. He passed small businesses and shops on his way and a couple of bed and breakfast establishments. It was interesting how this small group of businesses had successfully kept the larger hotel chains out of Slaterville. However, what amazed him further was how these bed and breakfasts’ helped disguise Sean’s family business. Anyone watching closely would assume the Cutler’s operated a bed and breakfast also.
Sean drove his truck down the road toward his home. He gazed out to the right, at the crisp, blue water of Slater Lake. Its surface was perfectly calm, like glass, with one lonely fishing boat situated in the middle. Sean looked out his left window at the many houses facing the beautiful view. He slowed his truck down and turned left, into the driveway of his parent’s home.
Sean remembered something Chandra had said when he first brought her home to meet his family, “You still live with your parents?” Her rebuke had insulted him. He worked here. This was not only his home, it was his place of employment, whether she liked it or not. However, once they married, he’d have to figure something else out. She had said, in no uncertain terms, that she would not live under his parent’s roof.
Sean turned his truck off and with graceful efficiency gathered all of the bags and sacks from the errand run. He bumped the door of his truck with his hip to close it and inhaled another deep breath of the clean air. This time the air had a slight taste of moisture from Slater Lake.
Sean’s muscular build and tall frame easily carried the load to the kitchen. After he put everything down, he proceeded up to his room to begin the standard cleaning performed every time a crosser left. James had stayed in Sean’s room like all the other males. The female crossers stayed in his sister Lyndee’s room.
The cleaning process was the same; change the bed, clean the bathroom, vacuum and air out the room. The thorough cleaning had therapeutic benefits for Sean. It gave him time to reflect on the life of the crosser who’d moved on. He would ponder on their futures and find himself hoping they would be able to throw off the heavy weight of their past life.
As Sean flipped open the fresh sheet on his king sized bed, he felt like he was opening up a fresh page in the ever-continuing saga of defectors from Rendier. Who would be the next visitor to their home? What kind of life would they be fleeing? What kind of effect would the next one have on him?
Sean had at least four to seven days off before he would become responsible for another crosser. Sean’s father, Paul, understood the emotional toll this job had on the psyche and the importance of unwinding after sending off a crosser. Paul was born into this lifestyle and continued with it his whole life. He knew more about it than just about anyone else in Sean’s opinion. His compassion was matched only by Sean’s mother, Sara, as she had been a crosser too.
A knock on his bedroom door brought him back to the present.
“Sean,” his mother stood in the doorway. “Your father needs to speak to you, in his office, now.” She wasn’t usually that direct and it struck Sean as odd.
Sara was close to the same age as her husband Paul and in equally good physical condition, if not better for a forty-five year old. She had beautiful long gentle waves in her dark brown hair and her brown eyes had gentle smile lines around them indicating a happy life. Her skin was like beautiful porcelain and her facial features were small and delicate. It was obvious that Sean’s parents still loved each other very much.
Sean walked downstairs to the basement where his father’s office was located. He and his father looked so much alike, it was amazing. They were the same height, had dark brown hooded eyes, muscular body type and deep brown hair, except Paul had some gray wisdom hairs over his ears where Sean did not. Many people have said that when he reaches his father’s age of forty-six, he’ll look exactly like Paul does now. Sean wasn’t bothered by statements like these because his father looked great.
Paul’s job held the greatest importance as he dealt with the most dangerous situations of everyone. He talked with the actual ‘sources’ that helped the defectors flee across the border. His intuitive senses had to be at their fullest when dealing with these potentially crooked individuals. One wrong assumption could mean disaster.
The ‘sources’ had their own methods of getting crossers past border control; each different, yet effective. Paul didn’t know how they succeeded in fooling the border guards, only that they did. The crosser would be at the drop off point every time without fail.
The border between the two countries was heavily patrolled by Rendierian soldiers who performed meticulous vehicle searches. Outsiders could go to Rendier to visit, but Rendierians couldn’t leave their country without a passport. As a result, passports were next to impossible to attain, and it was common knowledge around these parts that Rendierians only left their country on their way to heaven or hell. So, it increased Paul’s curiosity as to how his source was always able to cruise through security unchecked.
As Sean approached the slightly opened door, he heard his father speaking on the phone. “My requirements must be met all the way, or we won’t make the pick-up. Are you sure you can’t wait three more days? What is his current health status? OK… Alright, we will be prepared for that…. No, we’ve got that under control. Alright, give me two hours and we’ll meet at the rendezvous point.” Paul finished his phone conversation and hung up the phone.
Sean’s stomach dropped; a new crosser would be arriving tonight. Tonight! No break, no unwind time and no dinner date with Chandra. She wasn’t going to be happy about that.
“Come in, Sean. We have an injured crosser in critical condition I’ll be picking up tonight.”
“Are you serious?” Sean asked in a whining tone.
“Serious about what?”
“Usually I get at least a few days break before I get another crosser.”
“Apparently, this one has been in hiding for over a week already and cannot receive medical help without being discovered. There’s no option on this one, Sean. This crosser has an extreme amount of heat on his head. In fact, he may be the ‘hottest’ one we’ve ever housed. You will need to exercise tremendous caution,” Paul warned. “Now go get your room ready with level one medical supplies and I’ll be back around seven o’clock.”
Scars Of Defiance Page 20
