Dolby(36)
Author: Maryann Jordan
She’d been in the room for what felt like hours when a light knock on the door had her leap to her feet, heart pounding. The door opened, and she squinted at the light shining in from the outer room. A short, stout man entered, and the overhead light flickered on. Continuing to squint, she finally could see that his expression was blank, although he dipped his head in a small greeting. His dark hair was trimmed, and wearing a blue shirt and khaki pants, he appeared to be a worker on the boat and not a crazed kidnapper ready to end her life at a second’s notice.
Staring blankly at him, she waited for him to speak. Instead, he stepped to the side to expose a petite woman standing behind him. Her dark hair was pulled into a ponytail, and she was wearing a shirt like the man’s, but her bottom half was covered with a loose skirt that hung to her shins. Her eyes darted around the room before settling onto Marcia, uncertainty filling them as her gaze moved from the top of Marcia’s head down to her yellow-socked feet.
Marcia had the strange sensation that the woman was as afraid of Marcia as she was of her visitors. The woman moved forward hesitantly with a small metal tray in her hands. Glancing up at the man, she waited until he pointed at the bed. She hurried to place the tray where indicated and then stepped back in haste, nearly tripping over her feet. No one spoke, but the two backed out of the room, the door closing behind them, and the outside lock clicked.
Marcia stared at the closed door before shifting her gaze over to the bed, grateful that the light was still on. She walked forward, the scent of food wafting past, and her stomach growled. Reaching out, she lifted the top of the plate cover, blinking in surprise at the sandwich of thick, buttered bread and a slice of roasted chicken inside. A water bottle on the tray completed the meal.
She sat on the bed, and her mind raced to try to make sense of what she was experiencing. While the meal could not be considered a luxury, it was vastly more than she had expected. In truth, she wouldn’t have been surprised if they’d barely fed her at all. Suspicious, she stared at the food for a moment, wondering if it was a trick.
Finally shaking her head, she reached for the sandwich and took a nibble. She used her fingers to tear the chicken into smaller pieces, finding the meat tender and delicious. The bread was a bonus, but the butter smeared on top had her ravenously tearing into it. By the time she finished the meal and half of the water, she leaned her back against the wall, her mind still reeling, but her stomach sated.
Closing her eyes for a moment, she snorted. Maybe this is my last meal before being executed. Once again, gallows humor emerged. But then, considering she had no idea what was happening or why, she couldn’t discount the real possibility that she wouldn’t make it out of this situation alive.
With her fingers sticky, she walked to the shower and turned on the spigot, washing her hands and face. With no towel provided, she grabbed the bottom of the blanket on her bed and dried off. She wished she had a mirror, but figured if she caught a glimpse of her reflection, she’d be shocked at the way she looked. It’s better not to know.
Glancing at the chemical toilet, she pressed her lips together, hating the idea that she might have another visitor while taking a potty break. But nature called, and she decided it was better to have the toilet than to be expected to relieve herself on the floor. She shivered with another memory, wincing until she shook her head and let out a shaky breath.
Once finished, she managed to wash her hands again before the light switched off, and she was once more plunged into darkness. Crawling over to the bed, she sat down and tried to calm her tumultuous thoughts. Tears pricked her eyes as she pulled back the covers. She’d already discovered that the sheets appeared clean, and still wearing the pajamas she’d had on since being taken from Angela’s house, she covered herself with the thin blanket.
It was frightening to allow herself to be so vulnerable as to fall into bed and sleep, but her body was at the end of alert consciousness. She wouldn’t be able to stop anyone who came inside the room to harm her, even if she stayed awake. A flash of memory from when she was thirteen bolted through her mind, and her hand lifted to her chest, pressing against the ache. She’d seen what depravity someone would stoop to and lived to have the horror embedded in her soul. Never underestimate someone who will kidnap and imprison another human. Forcing her thoughts away from the past, she breathed deeply.
“Tell me about him, sis.”
She startled at the sound of Marty’s voice. He sometimes came to her, talking as if he were still beside her. Staying perfectly still, she waited.
“Come on. Tell me about him.”
A tiny smile creased her face as she pulled up the image of Jonathan. Her heart jolted slightly as she remembered seeing him sleeping after the night they’d spent together in the lighthouse. “He was masculine and utterly gorgeous, yet his face appeared boyishly cute in slumber.”
Feeling Marty’s presence next to her, she continued. “When I walked away the next morning, my heart ached with each footstep that carried me farther away from him. I constantly looked over my shoulder to see if he was racing after me.” She snorted and shook her head. “But when I made it to my house, I couldn’t decide if I was glad that he hadn’t followed or sorry I was still alone.”
“What happened then?”
“His arrival the next day sent my heart fluttering and my hopes soaring. It was as though I could finally admit that seeing him was what I secretly longed for. Does that sound silly, Marty?”
He didn’t answer, but she didn’t really need him to. He’d managed to get her thoughts solely on Jonathan. She lay on the mattress, and her mind wandered to him as a child. She imagined him with his brothers… Frazier and Dalton. The image of three little boys climbing trees, playing carefree and happy. Another image of them as teenagers, flexing their muscles, flirting with girls, and sticking up for each other moved through her mind, and a lighthearted smile crept over her face. I was once carefree.
Rolling over, she curled into a tight ball, her arms hugging her aching chest. Oh, Jonathan, do you know I’m missing? I feel certain that if you do, you’re trying to find me. She swallowed deeply as fatigue filled her being, and tears threatened to fall under the weight of her exhaustion. If Jonathan was looking for her, she feared that now she had gone far beyond his reach.
Rest. If I’m going to be able to work to stay alive and possibly escape, I’ve got to rest. With that in mind, she closed her eyes.
The following two days passed much in the same way as the first. The same man and woman came twice each day with a meal tray, turned on the light, and each time the meals were more than Marcia expected. She assumed the food was probably served in the ship’s cafeteria for the workers, and she was grateful for the gesture by whoever was in charge of her imprisonment. Each time they came in after knocking, they served the food and took away the empty tray from the previous meal.