I looked up at the closet doork.n.o.b. To me, with my wrists bound behind my back and my ankles bound together, it was as far a reach as the moon itself. Struggling, turning and twisting, I managed to get to my knees.
Now what? I wondered. I couldn"t bring my leg forward to get on my feet. but I could move inches at a time to get myself down to the part of the closet that had some shelving for shoes in it. Then I leaned over until I was on my left side and I extended my legs.
Using my hands. I pushed myself around until my feet were at the bottom shelf. Once there. I pushed hard against the shelving. My back was against the opposite wall. As I pushed, my lower back rose and I pressed my hands to the wall. It took so much effort to do that much. I had to stop to catch my breath. If I didn"t have enough reason to lose weight. I had it now, I thought.
After I caught my breath. I manipulated my feet until I was finally flat-footed on the closet floor, Then I straightened and pushed along the wall behind me until I actually reached a standing position. Never did I imagine that such a simple move would seem like such a monumental accomplishment. I had a rush of excitement and renewed hope.
I slid along the wall until I was at the door and my hands were just below the door handle. I leaned over and then got to my toes and again pushed my lower back up until my fingers found the handle. For a few moments, I couldn"t figure out how to manipulate it, which way to turn it, down or up. I pushed up when down didn"t do anything, but I wasn"t getting it up high enough apparently. My hands were down too low and I couldn"t raise my arms higher. It was too awkward.
I had also not antic.i.p.ated how being without any nourishment for so long would effect me when I made all this physical effort, I felt my head spin and my legs wobble. I closed my eyes and once again waited for my heart to stop pounding and my breathing to get better. Then I stood there thinking. I needed an inch or so more height. Another idea occurred to me. Sliding back along the wall. I turned and squatted enough to reach into the shelves so I could grasp a pair of high boots. I pulled them out and dropped them to the floor. What I wanted to do was stand on them.
The next part seemed to take me hours. but I slid along the wall again, shoving the boots along until I was sure I was close enough to the closet door and the handle. Because my ankles were bound. I couldn"t raise my foot and step on the boots. I held my breath and leaped, turning myself slightly so that I would come down on them. It was awkward and uneven, causing me to fall hard onto my shoulder, this time even rapping my head against the closet floor.
I just lay there, exhausted, and once again feeling defeated. I screamed in frustration and then turned and, pulling my legs up, pounded at the closet door. I couldn"t get my legs back enough to strike the door hard. but I did what I could and then I stopped, closed my eves and rested. Before I could start again.
I saw the handle of the closet door jiggle.
They had come back. I thought, Something had gone wrong. Who knew what they would do now, especially if they heard me making all this noise and effort to get out? I raised my feet in antic.i.p.ation. I would fight with every ounce of strength. The doork.n.o.b clicked and the door opened so gradually, I thought it was being pushed by my breath.
I stared in joyful disbelief.
Echo was there. Still bound around her ankles and at the wrists, but Skeeter had not put her arms behind her. She was able to lift her arms and get her hands on that doork.n.o.b. She had managed to roll, slide, and whatever from the bed to the closet and then get to her knees and get her hands around the k.n.o.b.
I wished she could hear my cry of joy. She smiled as if she had and I twisted and turned to get myself rolled out of the closet.
"You did good," I told her. She nodded. I saw how streaked with tears her face was.
What would we do now? I wondered, I turned my back to her to show her how my wrists were bound with the wire. She was able to use her hands even though her wrists were tightly bound together.
She worked on the knot. It was difficult and she stopped and whined her frustration. but I kept encouraging her until finally, she made some headway and became encouraged and more determined herself.
I could feel the wire loosening until finally, she was able to pull it far enough apart for me to jiggle my hands free.
I turned and hugged her and then I quickly undid her wrists. We both smiled and laughed with joy as we untied our ankles. Once again. I had to pause to catch my breath. but I wasn"t acing to linger long. When I stood straight this time. I felt the ache in my legs. I had to move about and limber up quickly. I put on a new pair of panties and another pair of jeans.
I located my shoes where Skeeter had tossed them and then we went to the door. She was worried they were still in the house. but I had no doubt they were well on their way to putting their plan to work, which meant going to the attorney they had dug up from some legal junkyard and then rushing over to the hospital to get Mrs, Westington"s signature.
One of the first things I did when we walked out and down the stairs was go to the kitchen and get some orange juice. I found some bread and smeared some jam on a slice, gobbling the food quickly. Echo was signing all sorts of questions at me: "Why did they do this to us? Were they gone? How was her grandmother? Can we go to see her? Where was Trevor?"
I made my answers as simple as I could, explaining that her mother was just after money. I told her about Trevor"s mother dying and then I said we had to go see her grandmother immediately. She nodded. eager. How ironic it was that she was the one who had saved me. I thought, and then I thought back to when she had first appeared in that bedroom doorway and saw what Skeeter was trying to do to me.
"How did you know I was still here?" I signed.
She smiled and pointed up.
"Destiny." she said. She p.r.o.nounced the name rather well. I thought. And then she signed. "She told me."
It was a strange and eerie moment for me. What did she mean? She couldn"t hear anything, even if my voice had come through the walls.
"How?" I asked her.
"I found her in my closet," she explained. "And I knew you would never leave without her."
I smiled. Yes. I thought, Destiny did tell her. In more ways than one. Destiny had rescued me again, "Thank you. Uncle Palaver." I muttered under my breath.
"Come on," I said. "We have work to do."
It didn"t occur to me until we had stepped out of the house that Skeeter had taken my car, and of course, Trevor was still away.
"Hurry." I said, and led her to the motor home.
How happy I was that the legal system moved so slowly and it was still here on the property. Echo was excited about riding in it. Despite all that had been done to her and all she had seen, she still had a young girl"s innocent view of the world. How sad it was to have to give that up, but eventually we all had to do it.
I started the engine and turned it around to head down the driveway. I really had no detailed plan. I thought first about going directly to the police to tell them what Skeeter and Rhona had done to us, but my first concern wasn"t that. It was Mrs. Westington, so I drove as quickly as I could to the hospital. Of course.
I was afraid of what it would be like confronting Rhona and Skeeter, and I was even more frightened of what effect it might have on Mrs. Westin ton if it was done in front of her. The commotion would be too much. but I had to show her that I hadn"t deserted her.
When we turned into the hospital parking lot. I looked about quickly for Skeeter and Rhona"s van. I didn"t see it and first wondered if they had already been here and gotten what they wanted out of Mrs.
Westington. Perhaps we were too late. I found two empty parking places wide enough for the motor home. As soon as I pulled in, I hurried Echo along and we crossed the lot to the hospital entrance. Of course.
I knew what I looked like to everyone, rushing about in a frenzy, my hair a mess. with Echo clinging to my hand, her own face still tear- streaked and her hair just as wild. I was sure we both made for quite a sight.
As soon as we stepped out of the elevator onto Mrs. Westington"s floor. I thought finally, finally, luck had decided to smile upon us. There at the end of the hallway, in conference with a nurse. was Doctor Battie. He glanced in our direction, looked briefly at us, and then down at the chart before lifting his head again with surprise.
"I thought you had left the area," he said as we approached him.
"She lied to you. I have to speak with you," I said, eyeing the nurse. who looked at us with curiosity and interest. ""Privately, please."
He nodded and led me and Echo down the hallway to an empty patient"s room.
"How is Mrs. Westington?" I asked before saving anything else.
"I"m not seeing enough improvement yet to be comfortable with her having any other procedure.
Something is really upsetting her," he added. "What"s happening here?"
How do I begin? I wondered. Without speaking, I showed him my wrists.
"What"s that from?" he asked.
And then I told him. He listened, his face changing from mere curiosity to concern and then anger. He signed with Echo and learned her story as well.
"You were right not going directly to Mrs.
Westington with all this." he said. "Wait here,"
He left us and when he returned, he had two hospital security guards with him.
"I"ve called the police," he said. "They"re on their way. I just spoke with Mrs. Westington and without revealing anything, asked her when her daughter was coming to see her. She told me she was supposed to be here in about twenty minutes. She had phoned her from some attorney"s office."
"What should we do?" I asked him.
"Just wait here. I"m having one of the nurses bring you something to drink and eat. I"ve asked her to attend to your wrists as well. Just sit in that chair and rest," he said, his face taut with anger.
"We would like to see Mrs. Westington."
"Soon," he said.
He pulled the security guards aside and spoke to them before leaving again. The nurse brought us some food and juice and we ate and waited. She put some antiseptic on my wrists where they were skinned and then bandaged them.
A policeman arrived with a detective shortly afterward. She introduced herself as Detective Temple. I told her what had been done to us. She was yen" interested in knowing more about this man Bill, who supposedly was keeping my car. I told her I didn"t know anything else. She asked me a lot of questions about Skeeter. When I described his tattoos, she looked very happy.
She stopped talking when we heard Doctor Battie in the hallway. He was speaking to Rhona and Skeeter, who had just stepped out of the elevator.
"Your mother has been moved to another room," he said loudly enough for us to hear. "The first door on the left down the hall," he told them, which was where we were.
The hate, anger, and fury I had in me was soon to plant a smile of satisfaction on my face, a smile as full of delight and contentment as one on a well-fed cat. Rhona, her right hand grasping her portfolio of doc.u.ments, entered first. Skeeter followed with his hands in his pockets, his eves down, his lips in a grin.
She stopped and gasped and he looked up, the shock reverberating through his lips and into his eves.
"How the h.e.l.l did you two-" he began.
"Shut up." Rhona said, looking at the policeman standing to their right and the detective on their left. The hospital security guards stepped up behind them.
"Sanford Bickers." Detective Temple said, "you"re under arrest for parole violation, suspicion of drug trafficking, grand-theft auto, and illegal detention of a minor."
The policeman with her stepped up to Skeeter and put his hands in cuffs.
"Rhona Westington, you"re under arrest for illegal detention of a minor and suspicion of accessory to drug trafficking and grand- theft auto."
She was placed in handcuffs as well.
"This is ridiculous," Rhona said. "That girl is making all this up. She"s a lesbian, a stray my foolish and sick mother took in, and she was raping my daughter. We caught her in bed with her. Just ask my daughter. Go on. Ask her." she said, Detective Temple ignored her and recited their Miranda rights. All the while Rhona glared at me and I stared back at her. I had Brenda"s eyes now. They wouldn"t waver.
"You won"t get away with this!" she screamed at me. Skeeter kept his head down.
They were both led back to the elevator, "I"ll be up to the house in about two hours,"
Detective Temple told me. "I"ll get a full, detailed statement from you and I"d like you to show me where you were kept and with what you were tied up as well."
All the while I hadn"t looked at Echo, who had been sitting frozen in the chair to my right. No one had really looked at her. While Rhona and Skeeter were arrested and read their rights, she had been crying and she still was. I jumped up to comfort her.
Doctor Battie came in and helped me calm her. He told her that her grandmother was asking for her and it was very, very important that she not look upset or it would agitate her grandmother. She sucked back her tears quickly. I took her into the bathroom and helped her wash her face and fix her hair.
"Don"t tell her anything about what they did to us." I signed and spoke. "It could make her sicker."
She understood and nodded.
Then we went to see Mrs. Westington. The moment she set eyes on us, her face lit up with such joy that it brought tears to mine. Aside from my own parents. I doubted anyone would be as happy to set eyes on the likes of me. Echo ran to her and hugged her.
"I knew that girl was lying to me about you. I pretended to believe her," she said. "There"s more than one way to skin a cat and she"s a cat that needs skinning. Now what"s going on here? When am I going to hear the whole truth, every nitty-gritty detail?"
Doctor Battie, who was standing right behind me, cleared his throat. I looked up at him.
"You"re not making things any better. Mr.
Smarty Pants, by having my children keep things from me," Mrs. Westington told him. I didn"t miss her referring to me as one of her children.
"You"re not making things any better by insisting on getting right into the muck before I give you the go-ahead," he replied.
"Now when you behave and let me get that blood pressure down so we can get that pacemaker started, we"ll tell you all the miserable, dirty things you want."
Even she had to laugh. She turned to me. "At least tell me about Trevor." she said, eyeing the doctor. "Where is he? Why haven"t I heard a peep out of him?"
I explained where he was and why.
"I guessed as much," she said. She turned to the doctor. "Well, how long are you going to keep me in here?"
"It"s up to you." Doctor Battie told her.
She sighed. "All right, all right. I"ll calm down."
she promised.
She turned to Echo and began to sign. I watched her carefully and I watched Echo"s responses as well. She kept to her promise and told her nothing terrible. A little over an hour later, we left, a.s.suring her we"d return in the morning. She didn"t wonder why we weren"t coming back that evening. She could see the fatigue in my face and just nodded.
"Come closer," she said. and I leaned over. She reached up to hug me and bring her lips close to my ear. "I don"t have to know what happened exactly,"
she said. "But I know I should thank you for my granddaughter."
I said nothing. My throat closed with my effort to keep myself from bursting into tears. I kissed her cheek and then took Echo"s hand and walked out of the hospital room. Doctor Battie approached us before we got onto the elevator.
"You all right. April?"
"I think so. I"ll just get some sleep, after we have a good, hot meal."
"Okay. You can call me if you need anything.
I"m keeping my fingers crossed. The cardiologist and I would like to take care of her tomorrow or the day after the latest."
"Good." I said. "We need her home." We got into the elevator and went down to the hospital entrance. I could tell from the way some of the staff was looking at us and some of the other security personnel that our story was spreading quickly. For a few moments after we entered the motor home. I just sat in the driver"s seat staring out at the small patch of woods across the way. I was really very tired. I shouldn"t have been so brave and independent. I should have had someone else drive us back. I thought.
"Do you always have to be such a wimp?" I heard.
I had thrown my voice again. It seemed appropriate to do it in the motor home, even without Destiny alongside us. It was still coming from her.
I laughed to started the engine, and drove out of the parking lot. When I gazed in the rearview mirror. I saw Echo sprawled on the sofa. asleep. She looked younger, more like a six- or seven-year-old. What a difficult journey she had been on during her young life. I thought. The two of us were like the sisters of misery. We were in the same hard-luck family. Maybe now it was going to change. Maybe we had both rounded an important corner. Maybe we could dream again.