NOT SO LONG AGO

11

The hours passed. The sunlight started to fail. The sheep were boiling in the dampness of their confined space; the children too.

Through the steel mesh, the prisoners glimpsed a kind of farm at about eighty yards. They saw only one side, but they weren’t mistaken. It was there that Andrews had gone when he had left them helpless, as well as handing them over to the bites from the darkness.

“What’s going on out there? Why did he leave us here?”

Erma’s question didn’t receive a response. When fear crushes doubts, expressing her unease aloud makes it flesh, and neither Roland nor Adam dared to put into words the truth of what they faced.

Erma called the name of the kidnapper several times. First, an ordinary inquiry, as if losing one’s temper too quickly was a sign that there were no alternatives, and then gradually intensifying. The boys watched her nerves give out without reacting, still ill at ease from their previous quarrel. Cries became screams and Erma lost control of her voice.

Crying wet the repentant and vulnerable faces.

They had to wait two hours in grim silence, interrupted by the acidic sobs of one or the other, before they could finally communicate without hard feelings.

“Does anyone understand any of this?” asked Erma.

“He must have heard this i***t messing with me, that’s all,” said Adam pointing to Roland. “And he has decided to let us bathe in our juice.”

Roland contented himself with a sigh of hurt and spite.

“No,” Erma said, “he wouldn’t leave us locked up with the animals just for something like that. It’s not possible. He may be... a sadist.”

“What’s a sadist?”

“A sadist, Bambino, is a guy who likes to hurt.”

“So we already know that he’s a sadist since we’re here.”

“But why’s he doing this? What will he do to us? Do you think he’ll let us stew here for a long time? He’ll have to get the sheep out, right?”

“I don’t know. You shouldn’t be asking me all these questions.”

Erma turned to Roland.

“Roland, do you inevitably have an opinion?”

“Why ‘inevitably’? You mean I joke too much, right?”

“Roland,” said Erma, “we must stop this bickering over nothing.”

“Why are you on his side?” said the annoyed boy, pointing an agitated finger at the youngest.

“I’m not on his side. He’s my brother, that’s all. I don’t want to take sides.”

“So you’re both against me. We would have done better to separate at the Loddon. You would have both stayed there and I would have headed to the scrublands alone.”

Roland lowered his pale face to the floor soiled by excrement.

And since they could do little more than wait, they waited.

And they were still waiting when twilight chased away the last rays of sun between the grates of the walls of the trailer. A disastrous veil enveloped them, and the chills of nightmarish hours pampered them with wickedness.

The few patches of sleep that could pull them away from fear never lasted more than ten minutes. Even though the sheep were much calmer now that the twilight had taken over, there was inevitably an animal that stirred or that occasionally emitted a lazy bleating, pulling them abruptly awake, prisoners of their forced drowsiness.

They were convinced that Andrews had never considered locking the sheep in the livestock trailer overnight. This mode of travel stresses the flock and if they hadn’t been released, it was their fault.

When it was dark, without speaking, Erma took her canteen from the bag at her feet and offered it to the others. Roland refused to drink. More stubborn than ever, he made no move towards departing from his vindictive attitude.

“Erma, what are we going to do?” asked Adam.

“I don’t know, Bambino. I have no idea.”

“Do you think he took us hostage? Like in the movies? He’s going to ask our father for money?”

“It’s possible. But if he does, it will go bad. If he thinks that Roland is called Barker and that he’s from Basingstoke, it’s about to get worse.”

“But maybe he just wants to have fun with us and he’ll let us go?”

“It’s possible.”

An hour after this conversation, Andrews reappeared. As soon as they saw a flickering light near the cottage, they realized they might finally have answers to the many questions they asked themselves. Andrews was holding a basket, most likely containing water.

“Kids, I’m going to open the window, here,” he said, showing an unwavering gaze from outside. I’m going to throw you the basket, but if you do something stupid, like trying to catch my arm, I’ll leave and you’re going to be thirsty, okay?”

He had expressed himself in a monotonous, weary tone, without the mocking overtones that he had assumed when he picked them up.

Roland rushed to the bars.

“But, Mr Andrews, what are you doing? Why haven’t you opened the door?”

“Not interested in talking, son. Shut up.”

“But, I mean, you can’t do this to us. Explain to us what’s going on, at least.”

“It’s late, I’m going to bed.”

“But my old man will find you. Listen, if you free us right now, we’ll say nothing, we promise. But my old man will know that we have been hitchhiking on this road. He’s going to find out who was in the area. There are no secrets at Basingstoke, you know that, right? They’ll know you were there when we disappeared. If you don’t let us go, he’ll find you, my old man, and he’ll give you a terrible beating, you can believe me.”

“Your father, huh?”

“Yes. My father. He’s tough, my old man, and he’s going to...”

“Your father works at Blacklands farm, huh?”

“Yes, that’s it. You said you knew him by name. Well, if you knew him, you...”

“There was never a Barker in Basingstoke, son. So shut your mouth, eh?”

Andrews chuckled. They identified again that sly, harsh spirit they had noticed when they first met him.

“Come on, good night kids. It’s too late for me to take you to your new home, we’ll see about that tomorrow. Sweet dreams, don’t forget. And if you can’t get to sleep, you can always count sheep.”

He laughed and walked away without paying any attention to the pleading of his captives.

The light of the day didn’t reassure them. Adam stared at the tired face of his sister. Above her nose puffy dark circles shone, disfiguring her skin so much as to make her unrecognizable. Her tawny hair was covered with dust and had lost its beauty.

The youngest, he still couldn’t control the tremors that sporadically shook his body. His nerves gave out and he doubted his ability to stand up if they could run away from this foul hellhole.

The beasts, thirsty, hungry, complained more strongly than before. Even if they had become accustomed to the presence of humans, being shut up for so many hours terrified them.

Andrews didn’t hurry back to join them. The sun had been piercing through the few clouds for about two hours, when he left the cottage and slowly approached, taking his time, stopping idly on the way to take a look at an outhouse on the left, as if nothing had happened. It was Roland who first saw him, and the man’s attitude made him beat on the steel side.

Andrews opened the back door of the truck and, flooded with air and light, the beasts rushed to the exit, ignoring the absence of the loading platform. They leapt and fell on the stony ground in an awful din. The children were jostled, but sticking to the walls, they weren’t dragged into the widespread stampede.

“You come down and you follow me. Don’t be fools and everything will be fine.”

“What do you want from us?” asked Erma. Are you going to free us?”

“Follow me, I’ll tell you everything in a minute.”

Andrews turned his back on them. Erma thought of jumping on him, but since their kidnapper 10 feet away, she gave up. No chance of getting away with it, her plan was bound to fail. She walked dutifully following the abductor, Adam stuck to her.

That’s when all three heard the sound of frantic running. They turned around and found Roland heading in the opposite direction, towards the woods.

“Where are you going, i***t?” cried Andrew. “Stay right there, you don’t have a chance.”

He was about to pursue the runaway, but when his angry eyes crossed those of the brother and sister, he realized that, in running after the boy, he would leave them free. He stopped himself. Furious, he pointed an aggressive finger at Erma and shouted at her:

“Tell him to stop. Tell him to come back. Tell him he’s going to get lost in the forest.”

“He’s already too far away,” complained Erma. “He can’t hear me.”

“What a little asshole... If I find him, he’ll get hurt bad.”

Andrews grabbed Adam’s left forearm and Erma’s right elbow and led them to the cottage. The prisoners had their legs numbed by the harshness of the night spent in the middle of the sheep and believed several times that they were going to stumble over some obstacle and collapse, but the grip of the man in the suit was firm and he kept them standing. Although they thought they were heading towards the cottage, they turned to the right and went around the house. Just behind was a kind of stone-walled gazebo covered with lichen and huge-stemmed brambles. The roof tiles were covered with loose branches that camouflaged the ruin from possible aerial views. Andrews released his prisoners. He fumbled in his pocket and pulled out a bunch of keys. He worked the lock, freed the door, and flung them harshly inside. They sprawled on the dirt floor. Andrew slammed the door and they were crushed by almost total darkness. A hole in the door as wide as one or two inches could barely allow a thin ray of sunlight to seep in.

Erma and Adam burrowed into the darkest corner, hugging so fiercely that they hurt each other.

It was only an hour later that Andrew would visit them. He looked even more furious. The two children were dazzled by the wave of light that showered them.

The man was carrying two buckets and holding a loaf of bread stuck under his armpit. The first of the buckets was full, the second empty.

“This,” he said, putting the first one at his feet, “is water. And this is for piss and crap. Don’t get it everywhere. And don’t get it backwards...”

“Where’s Roland?” Erma dared.

“Don’t know. I didn’t find him. And it’s better for him.”

He threw the bread which Adam caught.

“You’ll stay here a little.”

“What do you want from us?”

“It doesn’t concern you, little girl.”

Andrew played with his braces and, as if guided by a nervous twitch, he smoothed a strand of his hair to the left. A sneer disturbed the silence that had settled.

“You’re out of luck, kids.”

“But what did we do to you?”

“For the moment nothing. But you’ll do things to me, you can believe me. And you too,” he said, pointing to Adam. If you’re smart, it’ll be fine. You just have to do what I tell you.”

“Roland will go and get some help and he’ll come back.”

“No chance. We’re far from the city, he’ll not find it. And even if he did, what would he do, eh? He’ll not be able to come back here. And my little finger tells me he’ll not want to go see the police. Am I wrong? You ran away, right?”

“...”

“Hey! I’m talking to you. You ran away?”

“Yes. But our parents are looking for us. They’re going to find us.”

“That’s it, that’s it. Do you know where we are, little girl? We are in the middle of nowhere. Nobody ever comes here... except my friends. But I’ll introduce you soon, don’t worry. You can scream, no one will hear you.”

“Do you live here?”

“Are you kidding me? Take a close look at me? Do you see me living in this slum? It’s an old abandoned house that I fixed up with some friends. Even the hunters don’t come here. Eat the bread and rest, kids. Tomorrow, I’ll give you something to wash with. You reek, it’s disgusting... You’ll look good for my friends and me, eh?”

Before they could beg for his pity, Andrews closed the door and they were plunged into darkness.