Dragon Kin 2

27

Carmen

As my kidnappers came closer to bringing me to the house, I began to realize that the house never felt like home, not really like home.

I wouldn't know that, not really, not until I was living up in Montreal would I understand that distinction— the realization came during my first high on weed. Home wasn't home, but my apartment was home.

When she arrived in our shared apartment, my roommate, Donna, would cry, 'I'm home,' and it felt like home when she did. Then it began to feel like home when I said it myself. I didn't know what a moral abuser was at my house either. Only in my surrogate home did I discover I had grown up under siege most of my life.

Now I was at war with myself.

For years I wanted to please grandfather. I recall craving attention. Affection. My whole life was focused on achieving his approval. I don't recall a single moment that happened, so I'm not quite sure why I felt it would be so good. Essentially, my grandfather took that focus and weaponized its heart to kill its own head. Turning my heart against my heart against my head. While he turned truth into sharp implements you shouldn't run with.

I began to calm down. Yes, I had been abducted. Sacked. Swooped upon. Hawked. But, as I said, I knew these guys. Now that I calmed down, and took stock, I knew all four of them. Not just Billy Stevens, who, by his body language, still felt put-out by the comment that I was abandoned and left behind.

With that in mind, I came up with a bad idea, but didn't see any downside to it failing. Billy had flirted with me for years. Now he felt unsure and cautious. I probably should have felt grateful and let it be, but when someone changes that much, it triggers me to wonder, why?

From what I could see we were heading to my house by the most direct route. When I spotted the corner store a block an a half away from Frank's place, I asked, "Does Frank need smokes?"

This was a trick question. Grandpa always needed smokes. Instead of answering, the lot of them fell into an auto-pilot state. Billy pointed at the store and said something unintelligible to the driver. The two men beside me in back, both checked their pockets and set guns on the floor.

When the truck parked, only Billy and I remained in the truck, the others went inside and came out a while later with small bags and laughter. Once back inside we finished the trip to Frank's place.

Frank's house was another shotgun shack, with a large building — probably a barn, maybe — in back. There was not much land to the property, so the barn was a bit out of place. It would have been better to tear the barn down and put in a garden or something that could make better use of the land, but Frank kept the building for his Saturday and Wednesday night meetings.

There were several trucks parked on the long drive. From the count and also knowing some of the owners, I figured there were about a dozen people over. As soon as the truck parked, I slid out the passenger side to be next to Billy. Putting a hand on his shoulder, I said, "Billy, I'm going to make a call. I'll be right in. Everyone's out back, right? Good."

Then I turned away, and pulled my phone out of my back pocket as if it were the most natural thing in the world. Just like I did nearly every day they came and got me from homeschooling. Once behind the truck I dialed, 911.

The Emergency Operator answered a heart beat later. Billy had turned to say something to me, but now he turned away, following the others inside. It was just another day, driving Frank's kid around. Picking her up from the Brown's place where she did her learning. Now that she was back at her house, she wasn't his problem. She could do what she wanted. She was Frank's problem, now.

I told the police where I was, that I had been kidnapped by six men, and would like them to arrive without sirens, because I didn't wish to be shot.

Then I hung up and started walking to the house, right when the door burst open and Frank came out on the porch looking for me. I waved, put my phone in my back pocket and went up the steps.

"What's up?" I asked, and then turned and looked around as well. "What-cha after?"

"You," he said, his tone suspicious. "Where you've been?"

"Left behind," I said. "How's been your hours?"

He looked me over, "You don't look injured."

"Just my pride."

"Well," he said, "get-cha inside. We got questions."

"No, I don't think so. First I got questions for you."

"You what?"

"You heard me, Frank." I told him. "You're not deaf. I have questions. Like, are you sure my parents are dead? Where did we live then? Not here. Nothing in the papers here about my parents. So, that clipping you showed me in your scrapbook isn't from here. Where'd we live?"

"What are you jawing about? What is this nonsense?"

"It's a simple question; where are we from?"

"I was born and raised right here," he demanded.

"Not in this house. We moved here when I was six." I heard car breaks out on the street and I caught sight of the police units arriving. There were four now. "Are you sure about my parents, Frank? Because, ya'know I just came back from Canada."

He couldn't hide that one. The mention of Canada smacked him in the head with a salmon.

"What are you saying?" he snarled, and then saw the police. "What the hell are they doing here? Son of a bitch!"

"While it could be a number of things," I said, going back down the steps, "It's kidnapping I'm sure. It's still illegal, Frank." I said. I kept calling him by his first name, and that helped me because I was shaking inside. I had him off balance but if he started in on me, I might break even now.

"You get your squirrel ass back up on this porch," he warned.

I kept walking.

"You hear me?" he said louder, and with far more fury.

Now I was almost running for the police cars. Three officers were running toward me, their hands on their guns and their eyes on Frank back on the porch. Frank just watched me run. When I saw him again, he was broke. He didn't ever stoop before. I didn't like the look of it at all.

Once they drove away with Frank in the back of a squad car, I called a taxi to take me back to Vlad.