He had gone about his morning routine, and Molly had been furious, accusing him of not caring, not believing in her. It wasn’t until two hours later, when he’d picked up the newspaper and seen the headline, “Body of Amanda Curtis Found,” that finally, after all of those years of his wife professing that she had some strange type of sixth sense, he pondered, truly considered, the possibility that she was empowered, or hindered, with some sort of ESP that he could not comprehend.
Cole stuffed the memory into his subconscious, not wanting to revisit the tumultuous years that almost tore their family apart—or to think about the “T” emblazoned on his wife’s palm.
Four
Tracey sat on a large rock, shivering and scared. The air around her was musty and cold. Her breathing was shallow, her clothes torn. She tried to be quiet as she eyed the tall woman who stood at the other side of the dirt chamber. Tracey’s body trembled in fear. I hope Daddy finds me. What if he’s mad at me and doesn’t look for me? Tears welled in her eyes.
The stranger smiled, sending a chill down Tracey’s back. Her body stiffened, her eyes grew wide. Her abductor walked closer, the friendly smile remained on her face. She took long strides, her strong arms readied at her side.
Tracey curled herself into a ball, backing her quivering body further onto the rock and into the dark corner. She looked around the menacing cave for someplace to hide, an escape route. The candles illuminated the small room just enough for Tracey to see the small table and the dirty mattress she had slept on the night before, casting shadows across the earth floor. Tracey’s heart beat frantically as the woman reached for her hand.
“It’s time to pray, Tracey,” she said in a calm, gentle voice. “Let’s put on your church clothes for Mummy.” Her voice was low, husky.
Just as her large calloused hand touched Tracey’s, Tracey pushed off the rock, tugging her hand away from her captor and crying out.
“Now, now, Tracey, crying will do you no good. There’s no one coming for you. No one can hear you.” Her voice became hard, cold, “Put these clothes on—now.” Her smile morphed into an angry sneer.
Tracey reached her spindly, shaking arm out slowly, snatching the dress and pulling it to her chest. She looked down at the ground to avoid the woman’s piercing eyes as she backed into the corner of the tiny cell-like chamber. You’re not my mommy! I want to go home!
Facing the dirt wall, Tracey could feel the woman’s eyes trained on her back. She trembled in fear.
Her captor turned, took a photograph from a shelf, and stared at it. Tracey heard her say, in almost a whisper, “I did it, Mother. I saved her!”
Tracey pulled her soiled clothes off of her petite body quickly, crossing her thin arms to cover her nakedness as best she could. Her soiled panties stuck to her bottom. She tried to ignore the smell of dried urine that permeated the air around her. She pulled the stiff, dirty dress over her head. The mildew smell wafted up and mixed with the putrid smell of the cave. She crinkled her nose and breathed through her mouth. It repulsed her senses, and she had to stifle a gag. Her teeth chattered, and her body shook. I hate it here! I want to go home! she silently screamed.
“That’s Mummy’s girl,” the lady purred.
Her smile appeared friendly, though Tracey wasn’t falling for that again. Friendly people didn’t take you away from your family.
“You don’t need help, do you?” the woman asked.
Tracey’s eyes grew wide, and she vehemently shook her head.
Mummy approached her. Instinctively, Tracey crossed her arms over her chest again, huddling deeper into the corner. No! No! Don’t touch me!
The lady reached over and grabbed Tracey’s shoulder lightly, turning her to face the wall. She zipped Tracey’s dress.
The feel of her rough, cold knuckles made Tracey want to scream. She bit down hard on her lower lip to quell the urge, knowing that a scream would bring a punishment, and Tracey had already spent time in the bad spot. She wasn’t sure she could endure it again. Tracey closed her eyes tight and tried to calm herself. Her heart felt as though it were lodged in her throat.
The woman spun Tracey around, and Tracey took in a deep breath. Her heartbeat chased the bile in her throat, surging it into her mouth. She swallowed hard. The sound of fear escaped her lips softly, a withered mew. She tried to keep a courageous face, but her lower lip failed her. It jutted out, and tears sprang from her eyes. Don’t cry! Don’t cry! She tried not to whimper, remembering the early hours of the night before. There is no place in this world for crybabies, her captor had said, just before putting her in the bad spot.
The woman looked into Tracey’s tearing eyes. “Crying,” Mummy said. “You’ll stop that soon enough!” The woman placed her strong hands on Tracey’s back and prodded her toward one of the endless dark tunnels. “Stop that now and make Mummy proud.”
You’re not my mummy! I hate you! Tracey kept her thoughts locked inside. Please don’t hurt me. She tried to stop crying. Her fear was too big. Had it not been for the lady pushing her, she hadn’t thought she’d be able to continue walking. The dark, rancid tunnel went on forever. She silently prayed her parents would find her, and rued the lies Mummy had told her about the fun place where she lived—where girls could play for hours with no rules—but mostly, she hated what Mummy had told her once they were in the tunnel—that her mother didn’t love her as much as she loved Emma, and that she would be glad to be rid of Tracey. Liar! My mom loves me! Tracey’s anger grew, tamping down her fear, but not overtaking it.
Tracey reached up and touched the indentation just between her collar bones, as she’d done unconsciously so many times before, the very spot where the cold metal of her necklace used to sit—the necklace with the heart-shaped charm that her first grade teacher, Mrs. Tate, had given her on the last day of school. Fresh tears pooled in her eyes.
Mummy pushed Tracey deeper into the dark passageways. Tracey’s heart pounded faster, fresh goose bumps riddled her skin. She could still feel Mummy’s large body as it had slid in against her side while she had lain in the grass playing hide and seek with her mother and little sister, Emma. She could still see Mummy’s smiling face when she had held her necklace like a prize in her enormous palm, luring her in. Tracey had believed Mummy’s promises of giving back her necklace and even letting Tracey try on her special diamond ring. As Mummy pushed Tracey through the dark tunnel, Tracey silently scolded herself for not listening to her parents’ warnings about strangers, but Mummy wasn’t really a stranger to Tracey. She had played with her many times in the park when Tracey’s own mother had been busy with Emma.
Five
The night was cool with few stars in the sky. Molly parked by the Adventure Park, hitched her pack over her shoulder and tried to talk herself out of turning back and going home—the evening cast an eerie glow around the playground equipment. She hoped her dark clothes would keep her from being seen and couldn’t help but wonder if the abductor had pondered a similar thought. The abductor. Amanda’s abductor had never been caught. His face, his scraggly brown beard, his unruly, thick dark hair, and his cold eyes, still haunted Molly. Most of the time she could replace the image with one of happier thoughts, as her therapist had taught her, but now, in the dark, his face came back to her. She trembled, desperately trying to push away his cold stare, his rough voice. She didn’t get the dolly she wanted, he’d said from the vehicle. I should have known! Molly berated herself. I should have fucking done something, anything! She jogged along the grass, trying to outrun the memory, and headed toward the woods. Molly thought she must be crazy to be out alone at night, looking for god knows what, but she had to do it. She wasn’t going to let Tracey down. She prayed the Knowing would give her a sign, guide her, yet it had not given her anything more than the terrifying image of Tracey she had seen earlier—and it hadn’t been enough to save Amanda. Her foot caught in a rut. “Damn!” She looked around to make sure no one heard or saw her. She found her footing and continued past the playground equipment to the crest of the field where it fell away into the woods. The forest looked completely different in the dark—intimidating, villainous. Molly crouched down and removed her flashlight from her sack. She did not turn it on for fear of calling attention to herself, but it made her feel more secure just having it in her hand. She forged forward, momentarily flinching from the pinch in her ankle. “It’s now or never,” she whispered to herself. As she lifted her leg to step into the woods, she once again felt pressure against her chest. She gritted her teeth, pinched her eyes closed, and pushed her slight frame through the strange energy field, fighting her way into the depths of the forest. Her vision began to blur, her heart raced against her ribcage so hard she was afraid she might pass out. The Knowing was upon her. She concentrated on moving forward, holding onto branches as if they were lifelines. She squeezed the flashlight in her hand so hard that it hurt. Each inch she gained was a struggle. Her surroundings closed in on her, fading quickly to black. She fell to the ground—a vision of a baby girl seared into her mind. She could smell the infant’s milky-gray skin, wet with birthing fluids. The baby’s body lay rigid, dead.