The Road Home (27 page)

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Authors: Patrick E. Craig

BOOK: The Road Home
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J
ENNY SAT ON THE GRUBBY MATTRESS
with her legs tucked under her, thinking about what to do. She started cataloging everything she knew about her situation, looking for any way of escape. The room itself seemed secure, and it would be hard for her to find a way to get out unless she could get a key. She knew she was in the Pocono Mountains at a remote cabin. If she did escape, she would have to stay off the road and find her way out through the woods until she got back to civilization. She suspected she was north of the Interstate, but she didn't know the exact direction back.

The one bright spot was that for some reason, Jorge seemed protective of her. Maybe he had ulterior motives of his own, but when she had looked in his eyes, he seemed to be sincerely concerned for her.

It must be that we're close in age. He can't be over twenty or twenty-one
.

Just then she heard the key in the lock, and the door opened. It was Jorge. In his hand he had a bowl, and a blanket was folded over his arm.

“I brought you something to keep you warmer. There will be some snow on the ground in the morning. I brought you some stew. Are you hungry?”

Jenny nodded. She realized the room had gotten chilly. She took the blanket and put it around her shoulders.

“What are you doing with that goofy hippie?” Jorge asked. “You know him from San Francisco?”

“I'm not from San Francisco. I'm from Apple Creek, Ohio. I just met Jonathan a few days ago. He was helping me. I was going to New York to try to find my birth mother. I lost her when I was little, and then an Amish couple adopted me. I've been living with them ever since.”

“Amish?” Jorge seemed genuinely surprised. “Aren't they the guys with beards who ride around in buggies?”

“Yes, but there's more to it than that,” Jenny said. “Being Amish is about having a relationship with God. Not associating with the world helps us to stay focused on our faith.”

Her own words cut her to the quick. She realized with regret that the last thing she had been doing was staying focused on her faith. And now, because of that, she was in danger.

“I know what it's like…not to have a mother,” Jorge said. “I never knew mine. Uncle Luis told me she was a prostitute who got killed by her pimp. He's taken care of me ever since.”

“Is that why you're with these men?” Jenny asked. “You don't seem like you're really one of them.”

Jorge bristled at her words. “Of course I'm one of them! I can take care of myself. Besides, Luis is my family. I owe him.”

“Even if it means you might go to prison?” Jenny asked.

“What are you talking about?”

“Jonathan said that your gang killed a man out in San Francisco.”

“So what?” Jorge asked. “The punk tried to rip us off. He deserved what he got.”

“But if they catch you, they'll put you in prison,” Jenny answered. “You don't belong with them, Jorge. You could make something of your life.”

“So who says they're going to catch us? And what do you mean I don't belong here? I got a good life. And Uncle Luis is all I got.”

Jorge looked sharply at Jenny. “You're too smart for your own good. You're just trying to get to me. Uncle Luis was right—you can't trust women.” A change came over Jorge's face, and suddenly he looked very angry. “You need to get wise, girl,” Jorge said. “You should be nice to me instead of trying to trick me. You be nice to me and I'll be nice to you.”

Jenny felt a stab of fear as he stared at her. He looked her over slowly, and a look she had never seen on a man's face passed over his. He knelt down on one knee and touched her hair. Jenny shivered at his touch.

“Maybe you should be my girlfriend,” Jorge said quietly. “Maybe I should move my stuff in here.”

Suddenly Jorge grabbed Jenny by the arm and jerked her up, pulling her close. There was a wild look in his eyes. He bent his head and tried to kiss her. Jenny twisted in his grasp, but he was too strong. He pulled her tighter and forced his lips onto hers. She kept her mouth clenched and pushed against him. Slowly he overpowered her and pushed her backward onto the mattress. He half fell on top of her and held her down. Then he started to fumble at her clothing with his hand.

Jenny pulled her mouth away from his and screamed. It startled him, and he jerked back. Just then there was a knock on the door.

“Hey, what's goin' on in there, kid? Is she fightin' ya? Just slap her around—she'll figure it out quick enough.”

Luis laughed, and Jenny could hear the other men laughing in the background.

“Go away, Luis, this is my business,” Jorge shouted.

“Okay, kid, okay. Just don't wear yourself out. We got things to take care of tomorrow.”

Jenny heard him chuckle, and then his steps receded down the hallway. She lay on the mattress, panting like a dog with Jorge on top of her, her whole body trembling.

“Please, Jorge, don't do this.
Please!

Jorge slowly came back to his senses. A red flush swept over his face, and he rolled off her. He got up and looked at her with a mixture of pity and contempt. He pointed his finger at her. “As long as you're still alive, you're gonna be with me. No one else.”

Jorge walked out and locked the door behind him.

Bobby sat with Maxie in the interview room. A phone sat on the table between them. Maxie was rubbing his hands together and sweating. Reuben leaned against the wall, his arms folded across his chest. Maxie kept glancing at Reuben. Then he looked at Bobby and began to speak.

“Before I do anything, you gotta promise me you'll protect me,” he said. “Sal will kill me for ratting him out.”

“I've already talked to the sheriff in San Francisco,” Bobby said. “It seems that the Federal boys are in on this now. Your gang has been bringing in lots of marijuana and cocaine from across the border, and that puts you and your friends in DEA jurisdiction. They gave me their word that if you give us the names of the big boys, they'll go easy on you and put you in the witness protection program. It kind of sticks in my craw to let a rat like you out of his cage, but Jenny is more important to me. So that's the deal.”

“Okay, okay, what do you want me to do?” Maxie asked.

Bobby picked up the phone and handed it to Maxie.

“Call your boss. Tell him you had some car trouble and that you're waiting in town while it gets fixed. Tell him Sal rented a car and he's taking Johnny out to the place where the money is hidden. Tell him Sal thinks they should wait to decide what to do with the girl until he gets back there with the money. You got it?”

“Yeah, yeah, I got it,” Maxie said sullenly, “but I don't know if he'll buy it.”

He took the phone from Bobby and dialed a number. Bobby could hear a man's voice answer. Maxie dutifully went through the story Bobby had given him. The man at the other end must have asked Maxie to confirm what he just said. “Look, Luis, I'm just tellin' you what Sal told me. I'm not the brains of this outfit, I'm just the muscle. I do what I'm told, so that's all I know. No, he's not back with the money yet, I told you. Okay, Luis, I'm just doin' what Sal said. I can't help it if we blew the water pump. Yeah, yeah, okay, we'll see you tomorrow.”

Maxie put the phone back on the receiver. He looked shaken.

“What's up, Maxie?” Bobby asked.

“Luis is a smart guy,” Maxie said. “I don't know if he bought my story. I know he's suspicious. He wanted to talk to Sal as soon as he gets back. That means you don't have a lot of time.”

Jerusha lifted her face from her prayers and looked at the quilt. While she prayed, she had a sense that Jenny was in great danger.

“Lord, tell me how to pray for my girl,” Jerusha said. “Speak to me.”

And again the quiet voice spoke into her heart.
The L
ORD
is nigh unto them that are of a broken heart; and saveth such as be of a contrite spirit
.

Jerusha began to pray again. “Lord, speak to Jenny's heart. Help her to put away all pride and self-sufficiency. Help her to know that she can't do this alone, that she needs Your hand to guide her. Give her wisdom, revelation, and knowledge, and keep her hidden under the shadow of Your wing.”

Jenny lay on the mattress. She had turned off the light and waited in abject fear for Jorge to return. She had come to the end of herself, and there was nowhere else to turn. She thought about how convicted she felt while she was telling Jorge about the Amish faith.

I haven't spoken to You or asked You about any of this, Lord. I keep wanting to, but it's as though my pride gets in the way. Help me to pray, Lord
.

Then, to Jenny's surprise, words began to form on her lips as she lay on the dirty mattress.

“God, I've tried to be self-sufficient and do everything by myself. I thought I could fix everything on my own, but I can't. If You're listening…I'm in desperate trouble. I need You to intervene, or I'm lost. Help me, please.”

In the next room she heard the men laughing. Jenny knew that the crisis of the moment was upon her. Jorge—or worse, one of the other men—would return soon, and then all would be lost. She rose from the bed and desperately looked around the room again for something, anything she could use to escape.

She went back to the window. As she looked more closely, she could see that water had been leaking in between the bottom frame and the windowsill. There was a patch of dry rot starting in the wood around the flat metal bar that held the bottom shut. She could just reach it, so she pushed on the bottom edge of the window. The window was loose in the frame and wiggled slightly. She pushed again. The metal bar moved a tiny bit. She pushed again, and the screw that held it in the frame popped out a fraction of an inch. She pushed her finger under the edge of the bar and pulled. The screw pulled out of the partially rotten wood, and the metal bar hung there, attached to the frame by the other screw. She held the bar and worked it back and forth, up and down, prying at the second screw.

In a few seconds, it pulled loose, and she held the bar in her hand. She went over to the door. The lock was old fashioned and had a large keyhole. That meant that the lock was a simple latch instead of a dead bolt. She turned the light off so she wouldn't attract attention if she got the door open. In the darkness she inserted the flat bar between
the door and the doorjamb and moved it around until she felt it push against the bolt. She carefully put pressure on the bolt and pried. The bar grabbed against the bolt and moved it back ever so slightly. She pushed and pried again. The bolt moved again, and the metal bar slipped between the bolt and the door.

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