Failure of Judgment

Jack Bessie is the creator of the website, Jack Bessie’s Duct Tape for the Soul https://www.jackofwords.com It is filled with all sorts of insightful, funny, crazy and profoundly motivating stuff!

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A Thought

How many times have you felt betrayed, used or shocked by someone you thought you understood and trusted? Family, friend co-worker, you were sure they were as you had considered them, but found, much to your dismay, that you were wrong?

Welcome to humanity, as this is a common event! Women seem at times to be more vulnerable to this, wanting to be kind, wanting to believe that the people they know and love are kind, decent, honest, or at least safe to be around. Alas, this is often not true.

This is a story of one woman, who believed she knew others, and even more suspect, believed she understood herself. It fell to one man, a charming but shifty ner’do well, to force her to take a detour in life, and come to a new and different understanding.

As the father of six adult daughters, I have a certain fondness and appreciation for the struggles of all women, as they seek to find happiness and meaning in a world that has lost its traditional ways. It seems all women struggle to find their path, to balance work, children, relationships and spiritual values with little to guide them.

So it is in this book, an unabashedly romantic piece of chick lit. Be ready to be outraged, to laugh and to cry. If you have any heart at all, this story will find it.

Jack

Dedication

This book is for all of the women who make the difficult journey from girlishness to womanhood, struggling to understand their hearts, laboring to find their path in life, to find someone worthy of their love and devotion.

Love to all of you,

Jack

1

Rebecca Meyer-Owens was already stressed, upset and annoyed as she drove her daughter to her ex-husband’s country home for the weekend. Frustrated by her job, the bad traffic on the interstate, as she had returned from a court hearing in Little Rock, having struggled to get her daughter organized and ready to leave, she was now terrified as a large vehicle seemed to be about to rear end her Honda Accord.

She had turned off of a state highway, had vaguely noted another vehicle turning the same way, but had ignored it until its bright lights flooded her car. The vehicle dimed its lights, and slowed suddenly, seeming to be only a few feet from her bumper. Her daughter noted this with great feeling.

"God mom, he almost hit us!' in a loud, panicked voice.

Naomi! That's not a proper use of the word God! Rebecca, whose family was solidly Jewish, had taught her and her sister Rachel never to be careless about the use of God's name, a habit that she still had, even though she had only gone to the synagogue sporadically since leaving home for college.

Sorry, Naomi replied, but they did get way too close!

Yes they did! Rebecca, whose heart was still pounding fast, replied. Great! That would just make my day…to have some idiot run into us! Especially considering how everything else has gone! she thought, angry and frustrated. The vehicle had dropped back, and she turned her attention to the road, which was curvy and somewhat difficult, but she reconsidered how her day had gone, thankful it had not gotten worse.

Earlier, in the late afternoon, Rebecca had returned from Little Rock, tired and overburdened. When she pushed the office door closed with her foot, her hands encumbered, in fact her whole being encumbered with a laptop in a shoulder bag, her briefcase and a large stack of legal files, the door slammed with far more disruption and noise than she wanted. Sorry she muttered to no one in particular as she nodded toward Emily, the receptionist, who was waving acknowledgement of Rebecca's arrival while simultaneously talking on the phone. Rebecca, one of the overburdened attorneys at the Arkansas Public Defenders Commission, was returning to her office in Arkedelphia from an appeals court hearing in Little Rock.

Her colleague Larry, while trying to help her unburden herself of her load, catching the laptop case by its strap as it slipped from her shoulder as she dumped the files on her desk, said, How'd the hearing go? He was referring to Rebecca's Appeals Court hearing on a motion for a new trial for one of her clients, a woman on death row for the arson death of her estranged husband.

Bill Gatchel, the managing attorney for their branch, had come out of his office, having overheard Larry's inquiry. Rebecca, running her hand through her hair, pushing it back from her face, sighed. I think the state kicked my butt! she

said, her half-hearted attempt to smile displaying itself as a frustrated grimace.

Bill, seeing how upset Rebecca was, knowing how many hours she had worked to prepare for this case, tried to sooth her feelings. "You know, there's no rhyme or reason sometimes to how the judges will rule. You used the exact same approach on the Hall case, and got a new trial. We'll just have to wait and see how they rule. You did a great job Rebecca…don't be so hard on yourself…at least until you actually know something."

Rebecca had sat down, tired and exhausted. "What I hate is how they can just pick you to death…like the judges are trying to prove that you are an idiot…or stupid. They can be such a pompous bunch of…of… she hesitated, looking up at the men My mother taught me not to say things like I'd like to say!"

Her fellow attorneys laughed, amused at both Rebecca's intended comment and her shy, prim and proper reluctance to actually say anything vulgar.

Bill said, Well, anyway, you've done a great weeks work…its Friday afternoon…we all need to get out of here. You need to go home and put your feet up.

Rebecca looked at the clock on the wall to the left of Bill's office door.

Oh my God! she cried, I've got to pick up my daughter and take her to her dad's…she's spending the weekend with him. She quickly started gathering up files and her computer.

Seeing this, her boss asked, pointing at her collection of materials, "You don't look like you're planning to relax much. What are you working on?

Rebecca sighed, I want to get a couple of motions written while I have some quiet. I was hoping to get back sooner, but there was a wreck on I-30…I had to exit and come the last thirty miles on Route 67…it took forever!

Bill looked at her as she started to pass him. He put his hand on her shoulder to stop her and she looked at him, curious as to what might be on his mind.

Rebecca…sometimes you have to let it go…you can't do everything, can't save everyone… he hesitated. you need to have a life outside of here…not use this to hide from living.

Rebecca felt her face beginning to turn red, unexpectedly embarrassed by her boss's insightful observation. She wanted to deny it, argue, yet she did not trust herself to effectively debate or win such an argument. Instead, she merely nodded and said, I'm just trying to help people who have a lot less of a life than we do!

Bill nodded, patting her shoulder and said, simply, You take care…and get some rest too.

I will, she said and headed toward the door.

Ann Logston, one of the other attorneys who worked with Rebecca, opened and held the door. Rebecca thanked her and they walked toward the parking lot together, chatting about odds and ends from their week's work. Ann was affectionately known as the resident battle axe of the office. A woman of fifty six, who had returned to full time law after her children were ready for college, she had come to the Public Defenders office for the intellectual challenge, not for, as she jokingly called it, the high pay! She had proven to be an excellent mentor for Rebecca, who, at thirty five had come to this job after being miserable working for a firm doing business law.

Rebecca had hastily informed Ann about her trip to Little Rock, and how she feared it would fail to accomplish anything.

You listen to me! Rebecca, you do some of the finest legal research and writing of anybody I've ever seen! You've gotten more motions for new trials approved than anybody in the whole Public Defenders system in the last year.

Are you sure of that…it certainly doesn't feel like it, Rebecca replied, dubious.

Well it is, Ann continued, Your argument even worked for that Hoskins fellow, what was his name…Tom! That's it.

What! Rebecca cried, surprised, When did this happen?

Nobody told you? He was released three weeks ago… He's getting a new trial. Larry did the oral arguments months ago, but you wrote all the motions and did the work…the research.

He's out? He got bail? Rebecca asked.

Yes…I think his brother put up his house. Ask Larry about it Monday. Ann said.

I will, I just can't imagine how I didn't hear, Rebecca said, peeved that good news had escaped her. God knows, she thought, the bad news never gets missed!

I haven't seen him in six months, Rebecca said, Bill had me hand the case off to Larry, so I could do other projects.

Well, you can put that one in the win column, at least until the new trial…you know it's always a crap shoot on a re-trial? Ann said.

Rebecca nodded, still excited by the news.

She had met with Mr. Hoskins, several times in the Cummins unit of the state prison south of Pine Bluff. He was an interesting person, with a long history of being in trouble with the law. He had been a sincere sounding man, rough, yet pleasant. While he had freely admitted to his past acts, he had staunchly and adamantly maintained his claim of innocence to the crime that he had been serving time for currently, the rape and murder of an ex-girlfriend.

As Rebecca drove towards her babysitter's house to pick up Naomi, her nine year old daughter, she considered Mr. Hoskins case, idly turning it over in her mind. She had examined the trial record in complete detail, but it was in some notes that the police had given the prosecution, yet had never been presented at trial, that she found the conflicting information that she had used in the motion for a new trial. She sighed, knowing that now, much more work would need to be done in order to prepare for a new trial. She half-way shook her head, wanting to push the thought of more work away.

At the babysitter's Rebecca tried unsuccessfully to hurry Naomi along, instructing her several times to get her things while she paid the sitter, a stay at home mom named Marci who had a ten year old daughter, Amy, that Naomi was friends with, in addition to two sons. When her patience was almost exhausted and she yelled at Naomi far more harshly than she normally would have liked, she finally got her daughter out the door and into the car. They spent the short drive to their apartment with Naomi giving a non-stop travelogue about her school day and her time with her friend, Amy.

Naomi, much to Rebecca's annoyance, seemed to be in the mood to fiddle and be slow, wanting to play more than prepare for the trip to her dad's place, even thought she was excited to be going. She was actually going to her old home. When Rebecca had divorced Naomi's father, Joe, he had kept the five acre mini farm in the country that they had bought. Rebecca, an east coast city girl, had never been comfortable there, and had been happy to let Joe keep the property.

Rebecca had to do the gathering of Naomi's clothes and packing of a small bag for her, deciding that it would be quicker and easier than standing and yelling at the girl. She finally got enough articles of clothing, both nice things and clothes that dirt would be no threat to. Rebecca was resigned to the fact that Naomi would always return with filthy play clothes. One time she had come back with an outfit covered with awful smelling greenish brown stains. When she inquired of her daughter as to what it was, Naomi had sniffed the offending items, and grinning at her mom's cluelessness, said simply, Horse poop.

Oh, how nice! Rebecca had replied, suddenly being confronted with the news that Joe had bought a horse and was intending to teach Naomi to ride. Rebecca was herself secretly terrified of big animals, and the idea of a little nine year old riding on a horse made her own stomach turn over. She had tried to convey her sense of worry discretely to Joe, not wanting him to think any worse of her than he already did; he had been bitterly displeased at Rebecca's request for a divorce. He had been amused by Rebecca's concerns, yet he had tried to calm her fears, telling her Naomi would not be riding by herself for a long time. Joe was a skilled horseman, having learned to ride at a young age on a ranch in Texas where he had grown up.

Joe's bitterness had seemed to subside some recently, probably due to his having a new girlfriend. Rebecca was pleased by this, as it made dealing with her ex less nasty. Yet she now had to listen to Naomi praise the girlfriend at every turn after a weekend with her father; the little girl really liked her dad's new love interest. This annoyed Rebecca in some fashion, one she had no desire to consider in a thorough fashion. For all of Rebecca's attention to detail and cause and effect in her work, she had an instinctive fear of looking into her own heart and mind.

Realizing that they were going to be late getting to Joe's, Rebecca decided to be decent and call. As luck would have it, the girlfriend, Heather, answered the phone. Rebecca was forced to speak to her, as Heather informed her Joe was in the shower.

Would you please tell him we're running late…I got to the babysitter's late from work…and our princess only wants to piddle this evening. We'll be leaving in five minutes …hopefully, Rebecca added. She hung up and began herding Naomi toward the door.

Rebecca placed Naomi's bag and other things in the trunk of her car, a Honda Accord. She liked the car, it being only a year old and reliable as well as practical. Her father had complained that she should have bought something more refined and luxurious, as a graduate of both Vassar and Yale Law School. Yes, but you paid for the college…I'm paying for the car, Rebecca had replied, knowing it would get his goat. Besides, the Public Defenders position wasn't making her rich.

When everything was ready, and both she and Naomi were buckled up and ready, Rebecca started the car and checking carefully, she backed out of her parking space and headed out toward the street. She glanced at her gas gage, decided to stop at the edge of town and fill up. Her destination was only thirty miles away, but because she had to drive on a two lane state road, then on a series of county roads, it would take her forty five minutes to get there…if no slowpokes got in front of her. She turned on her lights, as it was rapidly becoming twilight. The sun still set early during the first week of April.

She stopped at a convenience store to gas up, and while getting out to do so, she had Naomi begging for something to drink and for a snack. Against her better judgment, she gave in, and after finishing the gas, they went inside. When they had made their purchase, and were ready to go, Rebecca noticed an old white van backing out of its parking place as she moved to the entrance to re-enter the highway. She vaguely recalled seeing one like it at her apartment earlier, but her thoughts were interrupted by Naomi yelling Mom! panicked by her pop spewing as she had opened it too quickly.

Rebecca, who had not pulled out, gave her tissues that

she kept in the car and quickly helped her with her spill, lecturing her harshly about being in a hurry and carelessness.

Great, Rebecca thought, another mini-crisis resolved, as she wiped her fingers on a clean tissue. I hope this whole trip doesn't turn out like this! She got a break in the traffic and pulled out, giving no further thought to the van, which also entered the highway, going in the same direction she was traveling.

Naomi asked, Can we listen to the radio?

Yes, Rebecca replied, keeping her eyes on the road. You can find something, she added unnecessarily, as the young girl had already turned on the radio and was searching for a station. Naomi went by several that Rebecca would have liked, finally settled on an oldies station.

They listened to a couple of songs, and then Rebecca asked, Why do you like this music?

Naomi turned down the sound some and said, Dad listen's to this a lot…don't you like it?

Rebecca tried to keep her voice as dispassionate as possible. No, I grew up listening to other music, you know…classical and jazz.

Naomi was quiet a moment, then said, Was that one of those uncom…noncompatables…you and dad have?

The word is incompatible…incompatibilities and yes that was one of them…just a little one. Rebecca replied, more coldly than she intended.

Oh, said Naomi, and turned the music back up.

Rebecca, not sure if her daughter had turned the music up because she liked it, or was making a statement about which parent she liked most, was annoyed to be forced into thinking about her divorce and her ex. She sat, watching the traffic which was reasonably heavy and waited. At the end of the next song, Naomi again turned down the radio. Mom? she began.

Yes, Naomi, Rebecca said.

Why don't you like dad? The young girl asked.

Rebecca considered how to reply.

Honey, I did like your dad, I thought I loved him, but…it was only like, not love.

Naomi was quiet, considering this before asking, "But you liked him enough to be married all that time! You had me! Isn't that enough like to stay together?"

We were married six years…we…I wanted different things, Rebecca answered. He wanted more children…I…I didn't want to try and raise more kids and work. And…you know I'm not comfortable in the country.

Then why'd you and dad buy the house out here?! Naomi demanded.

Rebecca sighed, having asked herself that question many times and not having gotten a good answer from herself.

I wanted to make him happy, she said at last. I thought I'd be happy too, if he was. I was wrong, honey. Liking someone isn't enough to build a marriage on. I'm sorry, she added, feeling guilty for complicating her child's life.

Naomi turned the music back up and Rebecca hoped it would stay turned up…it was easier to ignore than her child's questions. However, at the end of the song, Naomi again turned the radio down.

I think dad really like's Heather. Do you like her? Naomi asked.

Rebecca shrugged in the now dark car. Finally realizing Naomi couldn't see her non-verbal gesture, she forced herself to reply. I don't know, she began, searching for a simple answer. I hope Joe's happy. It's not my place to like her. She's been very polite and nice to me. I just hope she treats you properly. But not too good! Rebecca thought, not wanting some other woman competing for her child's affection.

Mom? Naomi began, Why don't you have a boyfriend? Don't you want one?

Rebecca was surprised by the acuteness of her daughter's question.

Why not? she wondered, realizing she had a dozen reasons she used to avoid thinking about that.

Well? Naomi prodded again.

I…I don't think I'm ready yet, Rebecca said, certain that at least that statement was not a complete lie.

Naomi had looked intently at her mother's face, illuminated by the dash lights and those of passing cars, and finally nodded saying, "Oh sure," in such a way that Rebecca felt scolded by the young girl.

Honey…I'm serious…I have you…my work…right now I'm O.K. I'll worry about having a boyfriend later, she said, as much to convince herself as Naomi.

Naomi turned the radio back up.

Rebecca was silently fuming, feeling put upon and disturbed that she had apparently been bested by her daughter, a nine year old. She knew that wasn't the case, that Naomi's question and comments came from the honest depths of her innocence, yet they still touched raw spots in her emotions.

She turned on her signal and slowed to turn off the main road onto a county road, glad to leave the state highway and its heavy traffic behind. Another vehicle turned the same way as her, right, one that had been a few cars back of hers. She vaguely noted that the vehicle had turned on its brights, but because they were going around a long curve, she wasn’t bothered by them. At least not until they suddenly appeared almost touching her vehicle. This had caused her worry and near panic, but having fallen back, she again ignored the vehicle.

They drove just under two miles, and then turned left onto another road. This one was narrower and much less traveled. Their destination was about six miles away. Rebecca had watched in her rearview mirror and had been surprised that the vehicle which had almost hit them, which had fallen back further, had also turned. She wondered where it might be going. There were only a handful of houses along this road, spread widely. That had been a major part of what had made her so uncomfortable, a woman who was happy in any large, crowded city. She had grown up in a toney area of Baltimore, had frequently gone to New York, Boston and D.C.

This road was more challenging to drive on, being very curvy, as well as narrow. She kept her eyes tightly on the road in front of her, alert for the possibility of deer. She had her brights on, yet saw nothing. Suddenly, she was startled by the lights from the vehicle behind her, flashing into her eyes from her side mirror. She realized that the vehicle was gaining ground rapidly. Was this fool going to hit her or try to pass? she wondered, suddenly tense and worried.

As she rounded a curve, with a long straight stretch in front of her, she saw the vehicle behind her pull to the left. The idiot wants to pass! she thought, amazed. Rebecca crowded her car as far to the right as she could, hugging the edge of the pavement and letting off the gas to slow down. The vehicle pulled even with her, and out of the corner of her eye, she noticed that it was a full sized whitish van, like the one she had seen earlier at the gas station.

The van was pulling ahead of her when it suddenly slowed, and in a split second, Rebecca realized it was moving toward her. She slammed on her brakes, but the van cut hard into her car, pushing her off the road. Rebecca tried to steer, but was still braking hard. Naomi was screaming, Mom! Look out! as the car skidded on the wet grass and weeds in the ditch. The front of the Accord clipped a heavy, wooden fence post, causing the car to spin. The car slammed into a tree, the driver's side rear wheel centered on the tree trunk. The impact caused the airbags to deploy and Rebecca's head hit her side window a hard blow.

Rebecca tried to move, heard Naomi crying, calling for her, Mom? Mom? Are you okay? but she couldn't seem to speak. She heard a man's voice, vaguely heard Naomi's door open, then only silence. She could see no light, felt smothered by the darkness. She was groggy, nearly unconscious. She dimly felt her seatbelt being unfastened. A man's voice was speaking, but she could not understand the words. She felt herself being moved, being carried, felt a stabbing pain in her head. Had someone called 911? How long have I been here? she wondered dreamily. Am I dying? Is this how it is? It's not so bad… like going to sleep, and she drifted into unconsciousness.

2

Rebecca slowly returned from the darkness of unconsciousness, confused and disorientated. She could see nothing but blackness, heard faintly the sound of an old Eighty's rock song slightly louder than other noises. As her senses revived, she felt, simultaneously, the rocking, shifting motions that indicated she was in a moving vehicle, and also a throbbing wave of pain from the side of her head.

The slow oscillations that were shifting her and causing her head to hurt slowly revived her. She finally realized that her eyes were closed, and, exerting her will, she forced them open. Blinking rapidly several times, she managed to clear them enough to see that she was in the interior of a large, open, poorly lit vehicle, the illumination apparently coming solely from the dash lights. It was obviously not an ambulance.

She was lying partially on her left side, and when she tried to move slightly, she discovered, much to her terror, that she was restrained; her wrists and ankles were both bound. She also realized that something was across her mouth; tape, judging by the feel of it.

Rebecca was nearly in a state of panic, yet she tried to will herself to be calm. She did not want to become upset enough to throw up and suffocate in her own vomit. She tried to understand how she had gotten here, wherever this place was. She tried to think logically. I'm in a vehicle, she began, thinking to herself. What kind of a vehicle? she asked, her thought processes moving slowly. It's a…van…van…suddenly she remembered the van…forcing her off the road…hitting something…a man's voice.

Suddenly Rebecca's mind almost froze, gripped by a new and terrifying thought. WHERE'S NAOMI? She wanted to scream, terrified that she had been separated from her child. With her arms behind her back, she struggled to roll over. Rebecca drew her knees up and used the mass of her thighs and legs to roll herself over. Her knees came to rest against something soft, and as she wiggled and strained to turn the rest of the way, onto her right side, the upper part of her body came to rest against this soft thing too. The soft object wiggled in response. Was this Naomi? she hoped.

Rebecca's head was pounding from her exertion, and she lay still to rest. She noticed the light was slowly getting brighter, realized they must be approaching another vehicle that was headed toward them. Watching intently, as the light reached its brightest, before the passing vehicle hurtled by, plunging them back into the near darkness, Rebecca was overjoyed to see Naomi peering at her.

Rebecca nuzzled up against her daughter, determined to rest and comfort her little girl as much as possible. Naomi's mouth had been taped by a piece of duct tape. That's probably what's on mine too, she thought.

Laying in the darkness, she struggled to think, to make sense of her situation. Obviously she was being taken somewhere. She had no idea how long she had been unconscious. She had no idea who had abducted them or what the person or persons might do to them. Clearly, she was in danger of being raped, maybe killed. That was terrifying enough, but the possibility that Naomi, an innocent nine year old, might suffer the same fate made Rebecca sick with fear.

Was this a random crime? Rebecca wondered. Had some pervert chanced to see them, been attracted to Rebecca? Rebecca did not regard herself as glamorous or enticing; she tried to maintain a pleasantly professional appearance, yet she had never been one to trade on her female looks or sexuality.

Perhaps it wasn't me that attracted someone…what if our captor wants Naomi? Rebecca thought, sickened by the prospect. She's not at all sexual, but she is a wonderfully cute and pretty little girl. She was chilled by the prospect. But why wouldn't they leave the mom behind? Rebecca gave a shrug. I should have taken a class on the psychology of criminals and deviants, she thought sadly, not on all that other crap I studied in college.

She considered other possibilities. Could someone be intending to harm them out of revenge? Or was someone wanting to get back at her ex, Joe for something? For a moment she considered, Have I been that bad of an ex-wife that Joe would want to hurt me this bad? Risk hurting Naomi, whom he adored?

Rebecca sighed in the darkness, knowing she wasn't getting anywhere, just scaring herself. She lay quietly for a while, listening to the music. She hated oldies, but now wondered if this might be the last music she was to hear. She tried to think about her life, take stock of it. Her worry made it hard to think. She thought of God, ruefully regretted not staying on better terms. I've been busy, she began, I'm sorry, I should have come to the temple, she thought. I bet most of us come crawling back, desperate and afraid, at times like this, don't we? she thought in an instant of clarity. Please, forgive me… Rebecca lost her train of thought, overcome by a wave of guilt and sadness. She began to cry, suddenly ashamed of her fear.

After her sobbing, which was muffled by the tape on her mouth, subsided, she heard and counted seven more songs, interspersed with commercials, before she felt the van slow and make a sharp turn. The road they had been traveling on had been very smooth; now suddenly the road became several grades poorer. Rebecca and Naomi were jostled severely by repeated potholes and bumps. The noise had increased substantially and Rebecca could no longer hear the radio clearly.

The jostling also made her realize that she needed to pee…probably so did Naomi, who had quickly drunk most of her bottle of pop. The van eventually turned again, onto an even rougher road, then after four more songs, it turned once again, this time onto what seemed to Rebecca to be a gravel road. She could hear, frequently, stones hitting the wheel wells. She had noticed that the latter part of the trip had been on ground that had gotten hillier. Rebecca, who had traveled back and forth between Little Rock and Arkadelphia, and who had only gone to a few other places in the state, had no real idea where they might be.

After a few minutes, the vehicle, which had been moving slowly, being driven cautiously to try and miss holes, without much success, came to a stop. The driver put the vehicle in park, turned off the key and the lights and opened the driver's door. Rebecca could only hear one door open and close, hoped this meant she had only one captor.

She waited for someone to open the back of the van, to retrieve her, but had only silence. She was straining to hear the least sound, when suddenly the rear doors were flung open. Rebecca was hoping that a light might come on, yet in this she was disappointed. She felt herself tense, prepared to be moved, but was suddenly aware that Naomi was sliding past her, being pulled toward the doorway by her feet.

Rebecca's heart was pounding, her terror having returned to its peak with the removal of Naomi. She felt utterly helpless, lying in the darkness, wondering what was happening to her daughter. Before her overactive imagination could get fully engaged however, she felt two strong hands slid her toward the door. Rebecca felt herself carried in the darkness. She caught a glimpse of the stars through the leafless branches of several trees. Her fear that they were somewhere in the wilderness, where her and Naomi's bodies might be easily disposed of was suddenly ended as she heard and felt her captor climb up what sounded like wooden steps.

She felt herself maneuvered, clutched tightly to him, through a doorway into some sort of building. He made a few paces and she was laid down onto a soft surface. Her unknown captor moved deliberately in the darkness, carefully feeling his way around things. When he used a lighter, Rebecca could faintly see a silhouette of a man across the room from her, his back towards her. He was, in fact, working to light a kerosene lamp. Rebecca, lying turned mostly on her side, could not follow him with her eyes as he lit two more lamps. She could now see well enough to realize that they were in some sort of rustic cabin.

She heard him go out a door, and in only a few seconds he returned. She heard him on the far side of the cabin, crumbling something, and when a metallic squeak and groan emanated from it, she began to suspect that he might be working to start a fire in some sort of stove; the cabin was quite chilly. Presently, she heard the crackling of paper and kindling begin to burn and after the door was shut she heard foot steps moving in her directions. The man whose back she had seen, sat down on the edge of the bed. Rebecca stared at him in shock, as he reached out and gently picked loose a corner of the tape covering her mouth. He got enough worked loose to allow him to get a firm grip, then with a deliberate quick pull, he ripped it loose, smiling at Rebecca's cry of pain.

Well hello, Rebecca, Ah'm glad to see you. Ah missed you not comin' to see me. Ah missed you a lot!

Rebecca, frozen like a small, furry creature transfixed by the eyes of a predator, looked at her captor, Thomas Allen Hoskins, whom her labors had freed from prison.

T…Tom…what are you…why did you do this? Rebecca asked, her voice a terrified whisper.

Tom grinned and shrugged. Ah'm not sure. Ah guess Ah wanted to see you, wanted… he fell silent. He reached out, gently touched her cheek, and touched her hair. He caressed her neck with his index finger. Rebecca, lying on her side, her arms behind her back couldn't move. Tom's hand slid down, slowly following the curve of her side. He patted her hip. He moved his hand back up, cupped her left breast in his hand, playfully squeezed it.

Rebecca, her face turning red, said, Don't…please.

Tom said, Ah want you, and Ah intend to have you.

Rebecca was now utterly terrified. Tom removed his forward hand, gently slapped her bottom. He got up, went around to the other side of the bed. Here he sat down and worked Naomi's tape loose from her mouth, pulling it off quickly to the accompaniment of her loud cry, Ow, that hurts!

Tom got up, went over to the other side of the room, came back with a nasty looking hunting knife.

Well, young'un, what's your name? he said as he sat back down.

Naomi, she replied.

Naomi? Tom repeated, That's pretty.

Naomi, looking at him, said, "Could I please use the bath room?" her voice betraying her desperate urge.

Tom grinned, Why? he asked.

Naomi hesitated, finally answered, "I have to pee," her voice again conveying her urgency.

Okay, Tom replied, but the bathroom is outside. If Ah untie you and take you there, will you try and run away? Naomi hesitated, not sure what to say.

Tom said, If you run off into the woods, you need to know there are bears and bobcats out there…and the snakes are out now too. Plus, Ah'd have to punish your mom, if you tried to leave us.

Naomi looked bewildered and terrified, Mom? she asked, What should I do? She was near tears.

You'll…do what he tells you, Rebecca said. Tom? she said quietly. Please…don't hurt her!

Tom, chuckling, cut the tape on Naomi's wrists and feet, peeling it off. He got up, took her by the hand and headed toward the back door. He opened the door, picked up a flash light from the top of a small cabinet, turned it on and satisfied, went out into the darkness with the young girl, pulling the door firmly shut behind them. Rebecca lay on the bed waiting for them to return. A few minutes passed, then more. Rebecca was beginning to worry, then panic. How long did it take a girl to pee? she wondered, concerned that Tom might be doing something obscene to her child. When she was almost to the point of screaming, the door opened and Tom and Naomi reappeared. Tom put the flash light in its place and Naomi went running to tell Rebecca of her new experience.

Mom, it’s a little house with a door…you sit on a hole, not a toilet…it didn't even stink!

Rebecca couldn't resist asking, What took so long?

Tom who had come close said, Apparently you city people don't teach kids anything! Ah had to show her where to put the light, how to check for snakes and spiders, where to sit. She peed forever then announced she had to shit.

Tom! Naomi began, That's a bad word you shouldn't say, sounding entirely too much like her mother, who had lectured her about such words.

"Naomi!" Rebecca barked, not wanting her daughter to criticize someone whom she suspected was crazy.

Tom grinned, patted Naomi's head. "She said she had to poop, he corrected, winking at Rebecca. Ah bet you need to go too," he said, this directed at Rebecca.

Yes! she replied, her voice filled with urgency.

Tom went over to some cabinets, rummaged, gathered something from a chest of drawers. He came back with a long piece of steel chain, small and flexible. He put the end of this down under the bed springs, locking the end to the chain with a pad lock. He took the other end and ran it around Rebecca's ankle, securing it with a tiny steel lock.

This done, Tom took his knife and cut Rebecca's bonds, freeing her hands and feet.