Six

"Success is not final, failure is not fatal:

it is the courage to continue that counts."

- Winston Churchill

There is a silence. The man hesitates. I hear "Er… Um…" But nothing else. Just those two words over and over again. Finally, he says something else. "Yes," he breathes.

My heart stops. Or at least it feels like it. I can't breathe. At first, I think this is the best day of my life, but then I realize what he has done.

"What?!" I scream. "You leave mom and me, and then, seventeen years later, you kidnap me to get me back, after mom died?!" He pauses.

"Yes," he admits.

"Why did you even leave in the first place?" I ask, calming down. My father sighs.

"Because I didn't want you in the family." I stare back at him with eyes of stone.

"Why?" I shout. "Why did you kidnap me after you left because of me?!"

"I was lonely," he says innocently.

I stare at him in disgust. "You're…" I stutter. "You're disgusting! Why would you do that?!" Father sighs again, taken aback.

"I…"

"No," I say. "You take me back to my house where I belong." He pauses yet again. "But there's no one there to look after you!" he exclaims.

"Yeah, but--" I begin, but then I ponder what he has said.

The only thing I've said about mom was that she was dead. How did he know that… Well, I guess he is using his common sense.

I sigh.

"Still! You should be arrested," I turn to Jayce and Ernie. "All three of you." I continue to keep my balance and sit up and start to look at where a beam of light was coming from. Surely that would be an exit.

But I feel Ernie's grimy hand grab mine. Tight. "Nuh-uh," he says. "Dustin gave us orders not to let you go."

"Speaking of Dustin," Jayce cuts in. "We did what ya asked." There is a long pause. Jayce is staring at my father with cold eyes. "We finished the job. Where's the moolah?" Another long pause. "Who's Dustin?" I ask curiously.

"Me," my father says, pulling out his wallet.

I gasp. "You paid them to kidnap me?" I'm not screaming, to my own surprise. I am just hurt.

"I would have come to get you myself," he says, handing Ernie and Jayce both large sums of cash. "But I knew you'd never come."

"So your best solution was to hire a couple of creepy dudes to kidnap me?" I say sarcastically.

"Well," my father hesitates. "Not exactly. . ." I sigh in frustration.

"No, that's what it was." I say, rolling my eyes.

"Ernie," my father says. "Jayce, you can go now."

"May," I correct angrily. Ernie and Jayce walk off into the darkness.

"Come on," he says, untying me and taking my hand. I try to pull it away, but he has a strong grip. He unties my ankles and then pulls me up.

"Let's go back home to get your things."

It had taken about an hour and a half for Ernie to carry me to this place, and it will take that much time to get back, and no one at school knows where I am, and the police at my house do not even know I was… The police! Once we'd get home, I'd tell them what my cruel father did, and they'd arrest him for sure!

I try really hard to hide my triumph on the way. It is hard, though. Dad tries to start a few conversations, but all I've done is nod and say 'Mhm.' Even though I am trying to be 'nice' until we get to the house, and he is arrested, I am still mad at him, and I won't hide that.

We approach the house, and instead of sprinting to the door and into the safety of the cops, like I want to, I steadily walk in front of my father. My selfish father.

I throw the door open, finally deciding I can show my eagerness. I bolt into the house. I stare at the two cops sitting on the sofa. Small sofa.

"What are you doing here?" the man cop asks.

"Shouldn't you be at school?" the woman adds.

I glance behind me at my dad. He is admiring the bushes. Weird. I walk over to the cops quickly while I still have time.

"That's my father." I whisper rapidly.

"W--" the woman objects, but I shush her.

"He hired two men to kidnap me this morning so he could have me again." The cops exchange looks.

"Please, arrest--" But my time is out. My father has walked into the house, and has tap me on the shoulder.

I turn my head, and smile the most fake smile literally ever.

"Do you have a phone, sweetheart?" he asks. Sweetheart. How dare he use that term! I play along.

"No, why?"

"I was wondering if you called these," he pauses, looks at the cops, then smiles. "Lovely two police officers." He smiles at them again.

The woman stands up.

"Sir, are you or are you not young Eleanor's father?" My father stands straighter.

"Yes, yes I am," he answers. I can see the fear and suspense in his eyes.

"Well, Eleanor said that you hired two men to kidnap her this morning. Is this, or is this not true?" My father pauses, then bursts out laughing.

"Oh! That's funny! Haha! You're funny, El!" El?! Who does this guy think he is??

"You didn't answer her question, sir," the man says. My dad gulps.

"Of course not! Why would I do that when I could get her myself!" He pauses. "Because that's exactly what I did," he adds. I rolled my eyes.

The woman looks at him with the 'really?' eyes. I laugh, knowing I am safe. The man walks into the kitchen. I follow him, wanting to stay as far away from my dad as possible. That plan backfires, because then I turn around and see that he'd followed me.

"Ugh!" I say. He sits down at the table next to me, but the woman cop sits in between us on the bench.

Thankful, I am determined to avoid eye contact with him. He keeps trying to start conversations, but I shoo them away as much as possible. I am not talking to him.

After about fifteen minutes, the woman finally stands up, destroying the barrier that separates me from the evil man now sitting close to me. Too close. He smells like fish Ew.

"Please follow me, Dustin." the woman says, motioning to him.

He follows her into the living room, and leaves me alone with the male officer. I fidget awkwardly in my seat.

"Orange juice?" the man asks. I paused. What? The police are asking if I want orange juice?? It's weird, but I nod anyway. You know, just to be polite.

He opens the fridge and throws out a bottle of the neon orange juice. The non-pulp goodness. I watch him closely as he skillfully pours the orangey greatness into a tall glass, just for me. He places the glass in front of me, and instead of scarfing it down, I gently pick it up, and savor every sip. I am surprised I am not as emotional about my mom as I thought I'd…

I am remembering everything that happened. That my mother is dead. And I'd been kidnapped. And that I have two friends that I haven't seen in days. And that there are bullies.

Lots of 'em.