by Amira Rain
“Oh, yeah? And are you actually willing to use that gun? If you want to complete your job so badly and get me to Greenwood, don’t you think blowing my brains out for non-compliance with your plan might actually throw a little wrench in that plan? Or did the chief simply say to just bring me to him dead or alive? Something just tells me he said alive. So, you can spare me your gun threats. You can pull a gun on me all you want, but I know you won’t actually do anything with it, so really, your threats are just empty.”
I’d suddenly found my voice, and my shock was very quickly giving way to anger.
Looking slightly uncomfortable, Ballpoint Pen Man glanced over at me while accelerating after another red light. “All right. You got me on that count with the gun. I won’t use it. But guess what? The chief said nothing about your family, so I have no problem placing a call to my men to tell them to do some damage if you make any attempt to escape or alert anyone to help you.
That includes placing any phone calls, waving at any other drivers, anything. Is that what you want? For your family to get hurt because of your actions? I have my certain boundaries, and I won’t do anything to the younger guys, but your oldest brother who’s legally an adult? And your father?
I have no problem having my men beat them to within an inch of their lives to keep you in line. You understand me, Miss Fowler? Try anything funny—anything at all—and you’ll have two family members clinging to life within about ten minutes. So, think hard before you try opening that car door again.”
I thought about my dad and Kevin being beaten, possibly with Derek and Joey having to witness the scene, and my stomach twisted into knots. I knew I could never and would never do anything that would cause any of my family members to be hurt. Even if that meant I just had to simply allow myself to be kidnapped.
Resigned, but still feeling angry and profoundly shocked, I just sat silently, surveying the gray skies beyond the passenger side window, while Ballpoint Pen Man continued driving. Fuming, I decided I was done speaking to him, not wanting to communicate in any way with a criminal who’d have a helpless drunk and a teenager savagely beaten.
However, after several minutes thinking angry, indignant thoughts, I turned my face toward him, completely unable to help myself.
“Do you realize exactly what this is, what you’re doing right now? By taking me from Michigan to the FDS and then Greenwood, you’re transporting a person across international lines, against their will, in exchange for money. This is literal human trafficking.”
Gazing at the road ahead, , Ballpoint Pen Man shrugged. “Well, let’s not think about that.”
“And since the chief in Greenwood ordered you to do this, he’s also a human trafficker.”
“Let’s really not think about that. I want you to think of him as a good man.”
“Well—”
“Because from everything I’ve heard, he really seems to be one.”
Having shifted from angry to borderline enraged, I could only sputter for a few moments. “Oh, the chief is a ‘good man,’ huh? Really? You really believe that? Well, I don’t. I’ve never heard of a ‘good man’ enlisting a woman for surrogacy services and then forcing that woman to live with the father and the baby for a year.
When the surrogate has been through emotional hell for nine months trying to mentally distance herself from that baby. If you ask me, that’s one of the slimiest examples of trickery I’ve ever heard of. Not to mention that as I said, the chief is also complicit in actual human trafficking, no matter how uncomfortable a fact that is for you. But, no… you’re right. He sounds like such a ‘good man.’”
Ballpoint Pen Man sighed, accelerating with a change in the speed limit. “Look. As far as why the chief is doing what he’s doing and why he wants what he wants, I have no idea. That’s not my business; it’s his. All I know is that from what I’ve heard, his people seem to think he’s a good man.
He’s established a nice community, he’s a good leader, who was chosen by his people, by the way, so he can’t be all bad, and he’s helped protect his people from the magical wolves or whatever it is they have going on up there.”
“A man who’s a human trafficker and also a slimy trickster. Wow, what a good, good man.”
“Were you even listening to what I just said?”
“Oh, and you said he’s a former MMA fighter, too, right? I’ve seen that kind of fighting on TV. It’s horribly violent, bloody, and brutal, so I can only assume that this human trafficker bear chief just loves violence. Probably just lives for it. I’m honestly starting to think he sounds like an absolute psychopath.
And yet, even knowing all this, you are still driving me right to him. You don’t even care as long as you get paid. Regardless of what kind of a man he is, I know for a fact that you are a horrible one. You’re a human trafficker, a violence threatener, and an all-around terrible, criminal man.”
Ballpoint Pen Man snorted. “You don’t even know the half of it.”
“Just what you’re doing here today… you should feel sick about yourself, Ballpoint Pen Man.”
Frowning, he glanced over at me, clearly confused. “What’d you just call me?”
Before I could answer, something squawked at my feet. It had just been a small noise, and a brief one, but I’d heard it clearly. Startled and perplexed, to say the least, I looked down, not sure what I was expecting to see. Some little creature maybe. Maybe some sort of a tiny animal that had somehow gotten in the car.
But, of course, what I saw, feeling more than a bit foolish, was the white plastic baby monitor, right between my tennis shoes. And at that moment, another little squawk came from it, followed by a pause and then a cry.
Slowly, I leaned over, picked up the monitor with a distinct ache in my chest, and spoke to Ballpoint Pen Man in a quiet voice. “Did you… did you say the baby’s a girl?”
In my shock and outrage about everything else, that fact hadn’t really sunk in yet.
While the baby cried louder, Ballpoint Pen Man glanced over at me. “Yeah. It’s a girl. Sounds like she might want one of the bottles the nurse packed. And I don’t know jack about feeding babies, so… it’s got to be you.”
“What?”
“You’re going to have to feed her. I don’t know how, or how to hold a baby or anything like that, and it’s not really part of my job description anyway. It’s got to be you. I’ll pull over at one of the restaurants up ahead, and you can get in the back and feed her.”
“But… I’m not supposed to bond with her, or…”
“Well, that’s all changed now. You’re going to have to snap out of that way of thinking. If you’re going to live with the kid for at least a year, which you are, you’re going to have to take care of her. I highly doubt the chief is going to be staying home all day, changing diapers.”
“Well, so… what if I do bond with her? Then what happens after the year is up? What then? Am I still supposed to give her up and just head back home, even after bonding with her for a solid year? Or-or what?”
“Look. I have no clue what the chief is thinking. I’m not him. I’m just doing a job. All I know is that the sound of a baby crying kind of gets on my nerves after a while, so you’re going to have to climb in the back and feed her. Okay?”
Looking at the baby monitor and listening to the baby’s ever-louder cries, I moved my head in a fraction of a nod. “Okay.”
Ballpoint Pen Man soon parked the car in a restaurant parking lot and began getting out, saying that he was going to go inside and have a cup of coffee. “You want me to bring you back anything?”
I shook my head, for some strange reason wishing he weren’t leaving. “No, thank you.”
Suddenly nervous, I could hardly stomach the thought of eating or drinking anything.
Once Ballpoint Pen Man had shut the car door, I opened mine, got out, and closed it as quickly as I could, feeling like I needed to move before I lost my nerve.
It wasn’t that I was nervous about ca
ring for a baby; I actually felt fairly confident about my baby-care skills. I’d been fourteen when Joey had been born, and I’d helped my mom with him a lot, even when he’d been a newborn. It was just that I’d never cared for my baby before. My baby that was never supposed to be mine.
As quickly as I’d gotten out of the car, I got into the backseat and shut the door, not wanting the icy January air to reach the tiny wailing bundle that greeted me. Seemingly startled by the sound of me closing the door, she immediately stopped wailing and just looked at me, red-faced, one little foot gently kicking a pink fleece blanket that covered her rear-facing car seat.
With my heart doing a distinct stutter-step, I looked into her big blue eyes, which were fringed by dark lashes. They weren’t just the “temporary blue” color frequently seen in the eyes of newborns. They were a bright, vivid blue that made me think they’d definitely be blue permanently. They weren’t my eyes; my eyes were green. I also didn’t have dark lashes; mine were more of a honey brown color that I’d always wished was darker.
The baby girl also didn’t have my hair. Her tiny head was covered in dark, nearly black, downy peach fuzz. My hair was a fairly light blond. I also didn’t see much of myself in the baby’s facial features, but that didn’t even matter. She was the most precious, perfect thing I’d ever seen in my life.
Eyes filling with tears, I folded her blanket to the side and began unbuckling her car seat harness, smiling at her. “Hi, beautiful girl. Are you hungry?”
She made a faint squawk, as if to say yes. My eyes filled even a little bit more.
By the time I’d taken a bottle from a pink diaper bag beside her, and had taken her out of her car seat to cradle her in my arms, my tears were freely flowing down my face, and I could only speak hoarsely over a giant lump in my throat.
“I’m your mommy, sweet girl. I’m your mommy.”
She just stared up at me, blinking, looking to me like an angel that had come down to earth.
Just to hold her was something like a dream. She was so sweet, and so soft, and so light that I couldn’t stop dipping my head to kiss her while she drank from the bottle. She also smelled heavenly, with her scent having notes of baby powder, baby shampoo, and something else sweet and snuggly that I couldn’t even identify. Two minutes hadn’t even gone by before I told her that I loved her with all my heart, and I did. I’d fallen instantly, madly, deeply in love.
When she reached up and grabbed my pinkie finger from the hand that was holding the bottle, I dipped my head and kissed one of her tiny cheeks again with my tears still freely flowing. “Mommy loves her precious baby so, so much.”
Her own fingers were almost impossibly tiny, so tiny that they barely closed around my pinkie. Her sweet little nails were the softest shade of pale ballet pink I’d ever seen in my life.
After she’d been drinking from the bottle a while longer, I decided that I wanted to try to breastfeed her before she got any more used to a plastic nipple and formula. I’d always been pretty sure that I wanted to breastfeed when I had a baby, and I knew a fair amount about it just from watching my mom do it and hearing her talk to her friends.
So, I took the bottle from my own precious baby, making her squawk indignantly, set the bottle aside, and lifted my shirt before folding the cotton cup of my bra down to see if she’d latch on to my nipple.
I’d definitely felt my breasts getting heavier and fuller in the previous few days, although I didn’t know if that meant they’d actually filled with milk. Nothing had trickled out on its own anyway, like the nurses had told me might eventually happen. But when my baby latched on, which she did almost immediately, and began suckling,
I experienced an unexpected, funny sort of sensation of something flowing out. And soon, when I heard her swallowing, I knew I was actually doing it. I was actually feeding my baby with my own body. My tears, which had slowed, now started back up again full force.
Experiencing feelings of deep satisfaction and joy, I’d been breastfeeding her for a few minutes when her eyes closed and her suckling slowed and then stopped. I’d nursed her right to sleep. I put her back in her car seat when Ballpoint Pen Man soon came out of the restaurant, and before long, the three of us were on the road again, though this time with the tinted glass partition between the front and back seats rolled down.
Up in the front seat, Ballpoint Pen Man glanced at me in the rearview mirror. “The kid got a name now?”
I hadn’t even thought about that.
“No… you think I should give her one? Or…”
Or will the bear chief fly into a violent rage that I took the liberty, I thought.
“Well, when the chief asked that you and the baby be brought up to Greenwood, he didn’t say anything about having already picked a name for the baby himself or anything, so I think it’s probably okay if you give her one. You can probably just ask the chief later if he likes it. If he doesn’t, at least you will have had something to call the kid on the trip.”
“Okay.”
Ballpoint Pen Man glanced at me in the rearview mirror once again. “So, what’s it going to be?”
“Well I guess I’ve always really liked the name Samantha.”
“That’s a nice name. You got another for a middle name?”
Looking down at my precious sleeping girl, I didn’t answer right away. “I’m not sure. Maybe….” I thought for a few moments. “How about Hope? That goes nicely with Samantha, doesn’t it? Samantha Hope.”
“That spring to your mind because you hope all this shit works out?”
Looking up at the man who’d kidnapped me, I actually cracked a smile. “Maybe.”
He soon raised the glass partition after saying he was going to listen to some music on the speakers up front. Not long after, while gazing at my beautiful Samantha Hope, I realized that I needed to call Kevin to let him know what was going on.
Once I’d told him what had happened, stunning him, I moved on to practical matters that we needed to discuss. “I know you’ve been the man of the house for years, but now with the woman of the house gone, you’re really going to have to be the man of the house. Just keep doing what you’ve been doing as far as making sure Derek and Joey do their homework and shower daily and all that. Spend as much time with them as you can, ask them how they’re doing, and really, really listen.
Make sure everything’s okay in school. Make sure Dad eats. You don’t even have to talk to him, just anytime he’s out of his room and in his recliner, just fix a plate of something and set it on the end table next to him. He’ll literally starve to death if you don’t do this, or at least become incredibly malnourished on pop-tarts alone.
Also please make sure the boys have hot, nutritious daily meals, too. You’re going to have to start going grocery shopping probably at least once a week. Same with laundry. You’ll have to do it once a week, minimum, if you don’t want it to get really backed up. As far as the money, just do what I told you to do with it, and spend it on bills, groceries, and necessities only. Okay, Kev? Promise me.”
He promised, and I told him I had faith in him.
“You can do all this.”
I really believed he could, despite the fact that he was still an eighteen-year-old part-time busboy and community college student. I believed that he could because I had started running the household at eighteen, also during my first year of college, and like I had been, Kevin was definitely the more serious, responsible type of kid than the type of kid who liked to go out frequently and party. This didn’t mean that I liked the fact that he now had tons of responsibility on his shoulders; I didn’t at all. But things were what they were, and it wasn’t like there was any other alternative.
Before we got off the phone, I sent him a picture of Sam, as I was now starting to think of her, and he said she was the cutest baby he’d ever seen.
Smiling, I thanked him and asked him to show the picture to Derek and Joey. “And maybe Dad, too, if you don’t mind. I still get really, really m
ad at him if I think about him too long, but… I guess I still just want him to see a picture of his granddaughter.”
The all-day trip up to the northernmost part of the state actually felt like it went by pretty quickly. Cozy in her soft pink blanket, Sam slept for most of it. When she was awake, I smiled at her, talked to her, snuggled her, and fed her, falling more and more in love with her by the minute.
It was evening when we reached the FDS checkpoint at the Mackinac Bridge, which was a lengthy suspension bridge that would take us over the Straits of Mackinac to what had formerly been known as Michigan’s Upper Peninsula, but what was now known as the Free Dragon State.
It was only at this time, when Ballpoint Pen Man pulled the sedan alongside two armed FDS guards, that I realized that I didn’t have a passport. Baby Sam obviously didn’t have one, either, and not only that, she didn’t even have a birth certificate. Even though I was pretty sure it wasn’t legal for a baby born in the US to not have a United States birth certificate issued, the way it was supposed to have worked was that she would get a sovereign city-state of Greenwood birth certificate, automatically making her a Greenwood citizen, when she was delivered there.
Surprisingly, though, these things weren’t any problem for the FDS border guards. After one of them had a look at Ballpoint Pen Man’s passport, he briefly shined a flashlight at Sam and me in the backseat, then waved us on through. Once on the bridge, Ballpoint Pen Man explained that the Greenwood chief had alerted Commander Iverson of the FDS that we’d be coming, and Commander Iverson had in turn alerted his guards.
Once across the long bridge, I closed my eyes and dozed off alongside sleeping Sam. Wanting to see in what ways, if any, the area had changed since becoming the FDS, I’d intended to spend the rest of the trip looking out the windows, but it was really too dark now to see much.
Also, I didn’t even really remember too much from my last trip to the area, when it had been part of the United States. I’d been just thirteen when I’d went on a weeklong Upper Peninsula camping and tourist trip with a friend’s family.
