It was in the shadows, but I thought it was dark brown and looked a little beat-up.
“I was going to bring you flowers or somethin’, but then I thought I should just have something special for you at the house.”
I stared at him. He wasn’t believing me. He refused to believe that I wasn’t Haylee. This was very confusing. My heart was starting to pound under my breast like some jungle drum transmitting warnings. I stepped farther back and shook my head.
“This is not a funny story. This is true. I am Kaylee, but I’m not the one who’s been talking with you over the Internet. That’s Haylee. She’s back at the movie theater. Our mother dropped us off there. Haylee got sick in the theater before she could leave and wanted me to tell you in person that she can’t be here. Our mother is coming to pick us up after the movie, but if Haylee gets sicker, we’ll call her to come earlier. I’m sorry,” I said. “That’s the truth. I’ve got to get back to her now.”
I started to walk around him, but he reached out and seized my left arm.
“You are a very entertaining young woman,” he said. “We’re going to the farm now, just as we planned. I’ve cleaned things up for you.”
“No,” I said, tugging my arm away. “I told you. I’m not the one who was supposed to meet you. That’s Haylee. I am Kaylee, but you have us confused.”
“Enough,” he said, losing his smile, his voice more raspy, almost inaudible. “You carry things too far sometimes. I meant to tell you that. Let’s go.”
“I’ve got to get back to my sister. If you touch me again, I’ll tell the police.”
My voice was shaking now, trembling along with the rest of me. When I looked around, I saw how deserted the street was. There were no houses with lights on, no stores, and, right now, no traffic. Where were we?
I started to walk away.
“Stop it, Kaylee,” he called after me.
I walked faster, my legs trembling so hard that I thought I might trip before I reached the curb.
I never did.
He was behind me quickly, and I felt a tremendous shock to the back of my neck.
Then everything went black.
14
I thought I was in a pitch-dark room and then realized there was a hood over my head and my face. I was seated in a chair, a rocking chair, and there was a chain attached to a bracelet fastened around my left ankle. The hood smelled of grease and gasoline. It made me cough, and then I was in the middle of a scream when the hood was pulled off and I was looking at Haylee’s Anthony.
He stood under the dull light of a hanging black metal fixture shaped like an upside-down bowl. His shoulders were hunched up, and he was smiling so hard that his lips lost color and resembled rubber bands ready to snap. Now he was wearing light blue pajamas and a pair of black slippers. He was cradling a cat with eyes that looked tinted yellow. It gazed at me with interest and was so still that I thought it might be a stuffed toy cat.
“Hello there,” Anthony said. “I’m sorry about how I got you here, but that didn’t really hurt, did it? It was more like anesthesia.”
“Where am I? Why have you done this to me?”
“Oh, where are my manners? This is Mr. Moccasin,” Anthony said. “See his paws, the white lines? They look like moccasins, don’t they? Mr. Moccasin, meet Kaylee.”
I didn’t think I could breathe, much less speak. I realized I was no longer wearing my own clothes, including my bra and panties. I was wearing a thick, faded pink flannel nightgown. I gazed around. It looked like I was in a basement. The only two windows were boarded up on the outside. The walls were paneled in a light wood, and in front of me was an old, heavy-cushioned brown sofa, a small coffee table, and a bookcase on the wall behind the sofa. Besides books, there were little figurines and toys on the shelves, model planes, and model cars. Next to the shelves were drawings pinned to the walls. They looked like the drawings a child would make of mountains and trees. In all of them, there was a cat.
The concrete floor was partially covered with thick, tightly woven area rugs. To my right was a metal sink, a counter with a linoleum surface, and a small two-door refrigerator. Beside that was an oven and a range with a teapot and a pan. There was a cabinet above this, and beside it was a closet without any doors. The shelves were stocked with boxes of cereal, rice, cans of soup, and other things, and on the counter was a bread box.
I turned slightly to look at the rest of the basement. Just behind me was an area meant to be a bedroom. There was a double bed with a metal headboard, two large light blue pillows, and a light blue comforter. There were two wooden side tables and a dark wood dresser with half a dozen drawers. There was also another area rug. A second similar hanging fixture lit that area. On my left was a table with four chairs, and on that wall was a framed poster that read “Home is where the heart is.” The words in script were inside the outline of a heart, like what you’d find on greeting cards.
On my immediate left in front of me was a small room with a toilet, a bathtub, and a sink. There was no door. It, too, had an area rug, but this one looked softer.
“I know it’s not much,” Anthony said, watching me. “But I have many good memories. I moved down here when I was only twelve. I told some of my friends at school, and they were jealous that I had my own place. I couldn’t sneak anyone in, though. Anyone who came here had to go through the house and get past my mother and father, but you know a lot about all that. I did show you some pictures, but it’s different when you actually see it, right?”
He put the cat down, and it walked slowly around his legs, rubbing its body against him but keeping its gaze on me.
“He’ll get to know you, and then he’ll be your buddy, too,” Anthony said. “Cats are naturally suspicious and afraid. That’s why we have that expression, scaredy-cat. Right? Thanks to Mr. Moccasin, there’s never been a mouse or a rat down here.”
I moved my leg and looked at where the chain ran back to the wall. It was attached to an embedded metal clamp. I quickly saw that the chain had enough length for me to reach anywhere, including the bathroom. I was a prisoner.