| |
Birch Kabouya tried to push her into the trunk of a car, and she fought like she’d never fought before. She rammed her arms out ahead, before her head could hit the bottom of the trunk. She sank her fingernails into the dirty carpet and then braced herself with her arms as she drove her right foot back like a psychotic mule. How she wished she were wearing soccer cleats! Or a stiletto.
Again, he cried out, and the pressure of his hands eased off just enough so she could flip over and kick again with her other foot. This time she brought the foot from ground toward sky and connected to a sensitive part of his body with a satisfying force. As he groaned, she screamed with all her might. She didn’t bother with the fire ruse this time; she just let out a primal wail from the core of her being. As she screamed, she feared that most of the sound was being trapped by the trunk and she scrambled to get her head back out into the open air. Unfortunately, her last flip and kick had left her terribly off balance, and as she struggled to get back in control of her body, he put one hand on the top of her sweaty head, grabbed her leg with the other, and then forced the rest of her small body into the trunk. She grabbed his dreadlocks with one hand, not getting as many of them as she wanted, and tried to yank herself back out of the trunk, like she was falling off a cliff and his hair was her safety line.
One strong punch to her stomach ended this attempt. Suddenly, her only mission in life was to breathe again, and as she gasped for air, he tucked her one free foot into the trunk and slammed it shut. As she tried to catch her breath, her fingers frantically searched the trunk, looking for the little emergency release that would set her free. On some level, she knew that any kidnapper worth his salt would have removed this release in advance, but this wasn’t his car, so maybe he hadn’t thought of it. Besides, was Birch the sharpest knife in the drawer? He had, after all, abducted her in broad daylight in a public place. She vowed to herself that from now on, she would only pee at the busiest gas stations she could find. And as her fingers searched the darkness, and as she tried to catch her breath, she heard Birch on his Bluetooth connection. “Yeah, I got her. Meet you at the camp.”
Oh good. They were going to have a soccer ref meeting at a camp. The car picked up speed, and she tried to relax, tried to think. There must be a way out of this, must be something she could do.
Oh! Duh! Why hadn’t she prayed yet? She squeezed her eyes shut and begged for rescue. “Please, God, don’t let me die. My babies need me. Please get me out of this. Please send Bob. Actually, wait. If you have better angels available, please send them. I mean, nothing against Bob, but I’m not sure he’s much of a fighter.”
Tears threatened to spill as she prayed, and she wondered why she was fighting them. Then, after a while, she didn’t, and they poured out of her eyes and onto the floor of her least-favorite person’s borrowed trunk.
How far are we going? With each passing mile, her fear of dying decreased, and her fear of peeing in her pants increased. Not that she would mind soiling Birch’s borrowed trunk. It was the least she could do. But she didn’t want to pee in her pants. That would be gross and embarrassing. And eventually, she would be rescued, and wanted to retain her dignity for that moment.
She took a deep breath and then said, as loudly as she dared, “Sorry to bother you, Birch, but I really need to go to the bathroom.”
No response. Had he heard her? She waited a second and then tried again. “I promise to behave. I just really need to go.” And there she was, lying again. “I can go anywhere. Just let me out in the woods somewhere.” She didn’t know where they were, but this was Maine, so there were woods nearby.
“We’re almost there.”
Aha! He had heard her! This was good, right? She should get him talking. She’d read somewhere that hostages should humanize themselves, right? She needed to form a relationship with Birch.
“How much farther?”
“Shut up!”
Okay, maybe he didn’t want her to be humanized. She considered her words carefully. “When women have babies, their bladders get pretty pathetic.”
Nothing from the front.
“And I’ve had three.”
Still nothing.
“I was stopping at that store because I had to use the restroom, and I’d already been holding it for quite a while by that point.”
Infuriating silence.
“I really don’t want to pee in your trunk.”
Brakes. He didn’t say anything, but brakes were even better than words. The car didn’t stop, but he had definitely slowed down.
“Do not pee in this car!”
“I don’t want to pee in your car, Birch! That’s why I’m asking you to pull over.”
“Just hold it!” He sounded terrified. “We’re almost there!”
She laid her head back and tried to relax, wondering if he was scared of her having an accident or scared of being late for whomever they were meeting at the camp.