Isabella
After her initial outburst, Isabella said nothing. Wyatt, taking her silence for submission, had started going on again about how much he loved her. How they were going to be a family. How in time, she’d appreciate what he’d done. She didn’t respond, feeling the nausea from the pregnancy hormones. Or maybe it was nausea at the sound of his voice.
She sat with her arms around Nina, who continued to cry intermittently, despite the increasingly angry demands from the Monster in the front seat and every effort by Wyatt to quiet her. Now in a strange state of calm that was almost psychotic, Isabella tried to soothe her daughter, murmuring quiet reassurance that she didn’t believe.
Nina was having none of it.
Nina just kept repeating the same phrase. “I want to go home.”
So did Isabella. But she no longer believed she ever would.
She floated out of her body, watching the scene from a distance. She was somehow detached from the woman who stupidly had chosen Wyatt for a husband and then had had sex with him when she knew the possible consequences. She was watching that woman and child from a distance, feeling sorrow and pity. The distance made it easier to bear. If she could watch from a distance, she wouldn’t feel afraid or angry.
But it was a temporary reprieve.
The truck stopped, and the detachment ended. With a jolt, she was back in her body, feeling her terror and that of her daughter.
They had pulled into a parking lot, and the Monster, after locking them in the truck, ran into a 7-Eleven.
When he emerged, the Monster carried a bag of Skittles and a new cell phone. He opened the front door, leaned in, and tossed the bag of Skittles to Wyatt before closing the door again. He then stood outside and made a call.
She strained to hear, but while she could hear the drone of his voice, she couldn’t make out words.
Then the Monster got back into the car and started driving.
Wyatt offered the bag of Skittles, Nina’s favorite candy. Nina accepted the bag, but she didn’t stop crying, pulling out the brightly colored candies one by one while tears continued to roll down her cheeks.
But she was quiet, which was good enough for Wyatt and the Monster.
What had been arranged became clear half an hour later when the Monster drove into a neighborhood with poorly-maintained homes from the early twentieth century, with cars that seemed to be held together with duct tape. The people they passed looked poor and Mexican. A few Black people.
The Monster turned into the driveway of a house with peeling paint and almost knee-deep grass. He pulled behind the house and parked. A six-foot-high hedge hid the house from the neighbors. Exterior cellar doors painted a faded red gaped open.
But at least there were houses within a few hundred feet. Neighbors. Someone who might help if she could escape. She wasn’t in the country, with a mile to walk to get to a living soul.
A white woman with mousy brown hair in a striped brown-and-red dress stepped out of a back door. With her was another white woman, heavy-set in a flowing flowery dress that was less than flattering. The woman in the striped dress put a hand on the large woman and gestured towards the car. The second woman nodded.
The Monster stepped out and opened the back door of the Ram. “Get them out.” Then he walked over to the woman with the striped dress and spoke to her.
Wyatt kept a grip on Isabella’s arm, pulling her and Nina out of the back.
Nina kept a grip on the bag of Skittles with one hand and Tiger with the other.
The woman in the striped dress bent down to greet Nina. “Aren’t you a beautiful little girl? What’s your name?”
Nina didn’t answer.
“Nina.” Isabella tried to free her arm from Wyatt, but he was too strong. “Her name is Nina.”
“Well, Nina, we’re going to go inside and have some pancakes. I hear you like pancakes.”
Nina shook her head and buried her face against Isabella.
The large woman put muscular arms around Nina and pulled her away from Isabella. Nina screamed, “Mommy.”
The large woman ignored her distress, carrying the screaming child towards the house. Wyatt pulled Isabella towards the open cellar door. She resisted, digging nails into his arm.
“Stop it. If you don’t, you’ll never see her again.” The Monster spoke the threat into Isabella’s ear, and she believed him.