Wicked Forest (DeBeers 2)

I heard nothing. I called again and again and listened, but heard only the same deep silence.

"Linden, please," I cried. "I'm sick. This is no good for the baby. Please, let me out."

Again. I heard only silence, Slowly, I sank to the floor and rested my head against the wall. My eyelids were still so heavy. I closed them and rested, opening them every few minutes to look into the hallway while I shouted for him. Suddenly, I heard the sound of a vacuum cleaner. From the direction and volume. I thought it was being used on the stairs. Shouting over it was useless. I waited and waited. It seemed to go on interminably. When it stopped. I listened and then shouted for him again.

Still, he did not respond and he did not come.

Exhausted and very uncomfortable. I returned to the bed. I needed a little more rest. I told myself. Stronger. I would rip that door open if I had to_. I thought. I closed my eyes and fell back asleep.

This time when I woke. I found a serving table and a tray beside the bed, the silver dish covered. There was a glass of orange juice, a pot of coffee, milk, toast on a plate, and my prenatal vitamins. Under the silver cover were two poached eggs. I touched them and realized they were still warm. He had just been here.

Hoping he had left the door unlocked. I rose and went to it, but the hasp was still there, the padlock still closed in it.

"Linden!"

I could see only a small piece of the corridor, but I realized that it, too, was very dark. Moving to the right and angling myself. I was able to catch a glimpse of one of the windows. It was painted black.

"Linden, please. Linden!"

I heard music. It grew louder. The stereo had been turned on and one of Linden's favorite Mozart concertos was playing. Shouting over it was futile.

My stomach churned. I returned to the bed and looked at the food. Toast couldn't be harmful, and neither could the eggs, but I was afraid to drink the juice or the coffee. They could easily disguise one of his sedatives. I thought. I drank water from my bathroom faucet instead. The food did give me some strength. and I looked for something to use to pry the door open. There really wasn't anything that recommended itself immediately. but I realized if I could remove one of the metal poles used in the closet. it might serve like a crowbar.

That was easier said than done. A bracket held it on both ends. I found something in my nail-file case that I could employ as a screwdriver and began to work off the brackets. That completed. I pulled and pushed on the metal pole until it came loose. The effort was exhausting. He'd given me quite a dose of his sedatives. I thought. Now I was driven by rage as well as terror. When it came to my health and the health of my baby, I would not be tolerant.

Placing the pole as close to the hasp as I could. I began to pry away. I had just begun to make some progress-- I could hear the hasp coming loose-- when suddenly, the pole was seized

and pulled out of my hands. It happened so fast and so unexpectedly, I gasped and stepped back.

"Stop it," I heard him say in a loud whisper.

"Linden! Linden, what are you doing to me? Let me out of here."

"I've got to help you." he replied. "I've got to be sure you are not disturbed. Our Hannah is coming. We cannot permit anyone to get between us."

"Linden. What did you do with my clothing? You can't keep me imprisoned in here. Let me out now. You're making trouble for us and especially for yourself. Unlock the door now," I demanded.

"You will understand."' he said. "And later, you will thank me for everything. I have a new idea. I am going to paint something about it Just be patient" he said. I heard him walking away.

"Linden! Don't do this. Linden!"

The music became even louder. I retreated to my bed and sat sobbing and then screaming my rage. After that. I sobbed again.

"He'll realize what he's doing soon.' I told my image in the mirror. "He'll realize it and unlock the door."

The face in the glass that looked back at me was almost unrecognizable. My hair was wild, my cheeks streaked, my eyes frantic. It took my breath away. Stay calm, I told myself. Keep calm, Willow. It does you no good to become hysterical now. Miguel will surely call soon, and even if he doesn't, he's coming at seven, I remembered. This won't go on much longer.

Every hour seemed more like ten. I dozed on and off, afraid that I wouldn't be awake when he opened the door again to bring me something else to eat and drink. He either didn't think of it or didn't remember. By now he was surely so deeply into his own world that what was real and what wasn't were indistinguishable to him. I thought. A madman was my keeper. He dwelt on another level. He might even have forgotten he had locked me in here. I realized. There was no longer any logic. There were no rules in his existence, at least no rules I would recognize.

In order to keep my own sanity more than anything else, by midafternoon. I decided to take a shower. I felt grimy anyway and needed to do something to revive myself. Either he had been watching me and waiting for the opportunity, or he had just happened by when I was in the shower, but after I came out and dried myself. I found a new tray of food by the bed.

"No!" I screamed, and charged the door, pul

ling and kicking it. It didn't budge. "Linden, you let me out of here now. I swear if you don't... Linden. Mother would be very angry at you for this."

"No," he whispered. Again he was just outside and to one side of my door. "She told me to do it."

"Stop it! Stop it!" I screamed. "Mother is dead. She couldn't have told you anything of the sort. Let me out. Linden. I'm getting very sick. I'll lose the baby."