Author: Sterling Title: Kidnapping From the Heart Summary: What do you do when you know a girl is being beaten but the police won't do anything? Ethan risks everything. Keywords: mastr NOTICE: This story contains explicit sex. First posted 1/21/2011. I'm always eager for comments, whether good, bad or mixed. Comments to sterling27@live.com. I have written many other stories and they can all be found at /files/Authors/Sterling/ You are welcome to copy this story if you include the entire text unchanged, including this notice. If you tell me where you have re-posted it, I can enjoy knowing it is appreciated and perhaps enjoy the feedback the story gets where you re-post it. Sterling And now, our feature presentation. Enjoy! ==================================================== Kidnapping From the Heart Cold calling was no fun, but at least it wasn't telemarketing. His light flashed, indicating that one of the automatic dialers had found a real live person. Ethan Sanders took a deep breath and spoke into his headset, looking at his monitor to see the name. "Hello, could I speak to Mr. Houpt?" "Who's calling?" "This is Northeast Market Research. We are conducting a study, and if you qualify, you could earn $150 for giving us your opinions." "What's the catch?" "I understand... We realize many callers are trying to sell you something. All we want is your opinions. Many people are reluctant to give their opinions for free, so we are willing to compensate you $150 to come in to our office for at most an hour." In the distance he heard, "Daddy? Who is it? Is it mommy?" Mr. Houpt covered the mouthpiece, but still Ethan heard, "It is not your mother, now will you go to your room and be quiet, or should I make you!" "But I want to talk to mommy? Or is it one of the court ladies?" Mr. Houpt returned to the phone. "Excuse me," he said in a kindly voice and after a moment put the phone down. Then he heard, "How many times do I have to tell you?" in a low tone. Then he heard a loud slap. The child screeched and wailed after the second, louder slap. "Be quiet while I'm teaching you to mind!" the voice said, and the next crack of flesh on flesh was alarmingly loud. He heard what sounded like muffled agony. Ethan was alarmed. Thinking quickly, he decided to change the script. After a moment he heard footsteps return to the phone. The line went dead briefly. "What the heck?" he heard Mr. Houpt mumble to himself. "Are you there?" "Yes." "Sorry for the interruption," Mr. Houpt said. "These new phones! For a moment I thought my 'mute' button wasn't working." "Yes, they sure can be frustrating! Let me ask you just a few questions." "Are you above 25 years of age?" "Yes." "Do you ever watch professional or college sports on TV?" "Yes." "Do you ever drink beer, wine, coffee, tea, soda, or juice?" Oh shit, that was lame! What else was there? "Yes." "Well, then you qualify! I realize now that we have someone who can come to your house and interview you there. It should take at most 30 minutes. Can you name some convenient times?" "Well, let me see... This evening would work, say 8pm." "Great! Someone will be at your house then." "And you're going to pay me $150?" "Yes, that's right." "Good." Ethan hung up. There was a child being beaten, and he wanted to help. He suspected that a call to social services based on hearing a few noises in the background wouldn't be enough. He needed to learn more to be able to help. --------------------------------------------------------- Ethan parked the car a couple houses down -- not sure exactly why. He had arranged to arrive ten minutes early; he wanted to catch the man off guard if possible. He was on the lookout for icy patches. In March it was still quite dark at 8pm in Boston, and the snow from the recent storm hadn't all melted yet. "Hi, Mr. Houpt? I'm Mr. Smith," he said. "We spoke on the phone today." "You're the same guy who called me?" "Yeah, they're short people to do the interviews, so I signed up to do this work too. I can sure use the extra money." "And you're going to give me $150?" "Yes, $150 in cash," and showed him the envelope with the bills. "Come in, come in," said Mr. Houpt. "So, let me begin. Do you ever watch professional sports?" "Yes." "Do you watch professional ice hockey?" "No." "Do you watch professional football?" "Yes." "On a typical week during the regular season, how many hours would you say you spend watching football? Zero to one, one to three, three to five, five to seven, or more than seven?" Just then a girl peeked around the corner and came into the room. She looked to be about 8, blond hair and blue eyes. She was wearing jeans and a T-shirt. There was nothing remarkable about her appearance except a red scratch mark across her face and a large bruise on her upper arm. "Who are you talking to, daddy?" she asked. Mr. Houpt turned in his chair, and said, "Anna! It is just a man doing a survey. You go back to your room!" The girl hesitated, looking at Ethan for a moment. "Now!" the man yelled. Anna disappeared around the corner. "Sorry for the interruption," he said. "No, that's quite all right," Ethan said. Ethan continued through the rest of the script he had planned, though he was asking totally different questions from what his company was polling about. He cut it short, since he had seen the girl. "Goodbye, then, and thanks for your help," Ethan said, handing the man the envelope with the money. After the front door shut behind him, Ethan crept around the side of the house where the girl had appeared from. He followed the sound of voices to a window on the side of the house. The window was cracked just a little. "How many times do I have to tell you to stay in your room when I'm busy with other people and not bother me? What will it take to teach you?" Ethan heard a dull thud and a stifled sob, then a louder slap, then one even louder followed by a scream. --------------------------------------------------------- After describing what he had heard to the 911 operator, he was told that he should call the social service department when they opened the next day. The natural way to reach them was an anonymous tip line. When Ethan phoned at 9:01, he was told that no one was available yet. He tried again at 9:45, and finally got through at 10:30. The woman did not seem alarmed. But she promised that they would send someone out that afternoon to investigate. After calling the next day several times, he finally got through to the woman. She said that while the girl did have a couple bruises, she said they were from falling down and denied he was hitting her. There was nothing the department could do without a much more thorough investigation. She added that the mother, who normally had custody of the child, had had a serious accident and was in the hospital. She and the child's father were divorced and not on good terms. Nonetheless, the father naturally got temporary custody while the mother was unable to care for the child. The mother was expected to make a full recovery within several months, so any situation would resolve itself when she was well. Given the budget cuts, the department was short on staff and they couldn't follow up on all the cases they should. Ethan's protests were to no avail. What he ought to do was put it out of his mind. It wasn't any of his business. Confronting the father would probably do no good, and it could certainly backfire. But lying in bed that night, he couldn't get that sound out of his mind. The sound of flesh hitting flesh all too hard. He couldn't stand the thought of that girl getting beaten every day. He brainstormed different ideas for hours. And by the time he went to sleep at 5am, he had his plan worked out. It was an insane plan. He must be an insane man to even consider it. --------------------------------------------------------- He called in sick from his job the next day and staked out the girl's house. He didn't see any chance. The car never left the driveway. If Mr. Houpt worked, it was not at a job with regular hours. He had his opening the second day. He wasn't close enough to see the house itself, but he saw a car pull out of the driveway, and there was no one in the car but the driver. He rang the bell. Anna answered promptly. "Are you Anna Houpt?" he asked. "Yeah," she said shyly. "I am here from the hospital. Your mother would like to see you at once." "Really!" The child's eyes lit up. "Can you come with me?" "My daddy isn't here." "I have specific instructions to take you to the hospital regardless of what he says." The idea of a hospital working in this fashion was totally farfetched, but he was gambling that the young girl's desire to see her mother was so strong that she would put her doubts aside. "Right now," he said, holding the door open. She walked right out with him and took the hand he offered! He walked briskly to his car, and she began peppering him with questions. "Why does she want to see me? Can she talk OK now? Do I come back here when it's done?" "I'm just here to pick you up; I don't know more than what I already told you." Once she was in his car, he drove to a secluded spot next to the park, turned off the engine and turned to her. "Anna, I have some things to tell you. First, I lied to you. I'm not from the hospital, and your mother didn't ask to see you." The girl looked alarmed. "I'm the man who came to interview your father the other night," he said. She looked and nodded, apparently recognizing him. "I also called him on the phone earlier that day. I heard him hitting you and heard you screaming after he put the phone down. That night when I visited I saw the mark on your cheek and the bruise on your arm. After I left that night, I didn't go straight to my car. I went around the side of the house and heard him hitting you again." Anna looked at him then, a tear in her eye but agitated. "It's not him doing it! It's... um... just hitting a pillow," she said lamely. Ethan ignored her feeble excuse. "I reported it to the police. They sent someone out to investigate. Did you have a visitor the next day, someone who asked you questions?" Anna nodded. "And I bet you told her the same thing you told me, about how nothing was happening. Let me guess: your daddy said he would do something really awful if you told anyone." Anna didn't react. "I got through to the police after that visit and they said they weren't sure there was a problem. What's supposed to happen is they take you to the station, convince you you'll be safe and get you to tell the truth. Then they take you away for your protection. You go to live with people who don't beat you up until your mother gets better." "When will she be better?" Anna asked eagerly. "They said it could be months." Anna slumped. "So that comes to why I'm here. I'm giving you a choice. I can take you back to your father's house right now. If he's not home, you can just walk back in and pretend nothing happened. If he is home, you can tell him whatever you want. If you say you just took a walk without asking, I don't know what he'll do. I wonder if he'll beat you." "He'd beat me, but I don't think he'll be back for a while." Anna covered her mouth with horror at what she had just said. "Don't worry, Anna, I knew already. I heard it with my own ears. You could tell him what actually happened, but I kind of doubt he'll believe you." Right, he thought to himself, because what I am doing is unbelievable. "There's another choice. I could take you to the police station. You can tell them your daddy beats you and you ran away." "I can't tell anyone what he does," she said. "You won't tell anyone, will you? Please?" He ignored her plea. "Now I don't know what the police will do, but after asking you lots of questions they might send you back to your daddy, who will know you told them he beats you. Or they might send you to some strange people's house until your mommy gets better. If they do that, the strange people would probably be good to you, but I don't know for sure. Because the police don't have much money, I bet they'll send you back to your father." "He told me that if I tell, he's going to kill my mommy!" she said, tears welling up. "Oh, shit," Ethan mumbled to himself. He was about to tell her that her daddy wouldn't really do that, but could he be so sure? "There's one more choice," he said, his heart in his throat. "I can take you home with me so you can live with me until your mommy gets better. Now if anyone found out about that, they would send me to jail for a long time, but that's a chance I'm willing to take." He felt sick in the pit of his stomach as he put that into words. "I'm willing to do that so you don't get beaten by your dad any more," and a few tears welled up in his eyes. "Before you make a choice, I'll tell you a little more about that last one. Like I said, if anyone found out you were with me, they would take you to the police, and maybe back to your dad -- I don't know, like I said before. You will be listed as a kidnapped child, and your picture will be all over the TV. So you'd have to stay out of sight. You won't be able to go to school and won't be able to play with other kids. You won't be able to visit your mommy." "Daddy never takes me to see her anyway," she said. "Figures. OK, next, people will worry. We can try to tell them secretly that you're OK, but they might not really believe it. Next, I've never been a dad, so I don't even know what it's like to take care of a girl. But I'll try to get you everything you need. How old are you? Six? Seven?" Anna looked at him reproachfully. "I am nine years old." "Sorry," he said meekly. He really didn't know much about kids. "Anyway, you get this so far?" "I think so, kind of," Anna said. "I go to work every day, so you would be home alone. Now, no one is supposed to leave a child alone like that, but I'll have a cell phone so you could call me any time. You would also be able to run away. If you go to any neighbor's house and say what happened, they'll take you to the police, like we said before." Ethan took a deep breath. "Now, if you asked you mommy or your teachers or a friend's mom, everyone would tell you that you should either go to the police or to your daddy's. Everyone would be worried I will do bad things with you. I won't, but they would say you shouldn't trust me. You can trust me, but you don't know that." Yikes, this was getting complicated as he explained it. Was he getting past her cognitive capacity here? It occurred to him that there was a good reason minors weren't allowed to make these kinds of decisions for themselves. "When your mommy gets better, I'll drop you off with her." Ethan wondered if he had left out anything important. "Oh right, and if they ever find out that it was me who took you, I'll go to jail." Summing up, he said, So, it's your choice." Anna paused a few seconds. "Would those other people the police sent me to take me to see my mommy?" "Yes, I think they would -- but I'm pretty sure they'll send you back to your daddy instead." She was silent a moment and stole a glance at him, shifting uneasily. "Still, I'd like to go to the police." Ethan felt a rush of mixed emotions. He would at least not be guilty of a terrible crime if he just took her to the police. But he saw her back with her daddy and his heart was heavy realizing he would beat her worse than ever. When they got to the police station, he looked at her and said, tears welling up, "I'm so sorry your daddy beat you, and I hope things go better for you." Anna gave him a long look, then hopped out of the car. He watched her go. She looked back at him once and waved, and he waved back. Then she got to the front door of the station and turned again. She hesitated a few seconds, and then she came running back to him and got in the car. "What happened?" he asked. "I wanted to see if you'd really let me go," she said. "And you did. I was thinking I could go with you and see, and now I want to try." Ethan's heart pounded in his chest. Oh shit, what had he done? Anna continued, "I can't stand my daddy hitting me!" and she began to cry. "I just can't stand it! He has all these rules, and I try to be good, but I'm always messing up and sometimes I don't even know rule I broke. If I were a good girl maybe he wouldn't hit me, and I try, but I can't do it!" "Listen, Anna!" he said, heatedly. "You don't deserve to get hit no matter what you do! There's nothing you could ever do that would make it OK for him to hit you! I'm sure you're a fine girl -- or at least good enough." --------------------------------------------------------- The Houpts lived in Massachusetts, and Ethan lived over the line in New Hampshire. It was a two-hour drive. Ethan gave her a tour of his two-bedroom ranch house and showed her her room. He reiterated that any time she wanted, he could take her to the police. If she didn't trust him, she could go to any of the neighbors when he was out. He pointed out one house in particular where he said the people were friendly and would know just what to do. He got a short list of some clothes she might need -- if she couldn't go out, she wouldn't need much in the way of variety! He got an order for a hairbrush and the right kind of toothpaste. He made a list of the stuff she ate. This was a bit like getting a new pet, he decided, though at least this one could talk. When he was out he picked up an iPod and a cell phone, and took a wild guess at a couple toys and a stuffed animal she might like. He considered how it would look for a young man to be buying a dozen pairs of girls' underwear, among other clothes, and made up the story that his niece was visiting for a month, her luggage was lost, and his wife had sent him to get some bare necessities. It seemed to go over OK. As he drove back, he considered that she might have already run to the neighbors'. The police might be waiting for him. He hoped they wouldn't take him away right then before she'd had a chance to use any of the stuff he'd gotten for her -- then chuckled to realize how dumb a concern that was. There were no police, and she was still there when he got back. When he gave her the shape sorter toy she held it up and looked at him like he was crazy. The afternoon and evening were fairly calm, though they were still jarring to him. He had been an only child and had lived alone since college. There was a dinner half-eaten, a dirty ice cream dish and milk glass on the nicely finished wooden living room table, unfamiliar TV shows, and then a bedtime routine involving face washing, teeth brushing, and pajamas. Anna came out of her room a number of times. Finally at 11pm he peeked in and saw she was asleep. Exhausted himself, Ethan settled into bed. One big question was whether the authorities had enough information to find him. What did her father know? He had mentioned the name "Northeast Market Research" when he first spoke to Anna's father, but hadn't repeated it. When he went to the man's house, he had brought with him printed material with "Norford Market Research", an actual company but one located in California. And while his fake survey had contained questions about sports and beverages, the actual project he was working on concerned cars. To report on Anna, he had been calling an anonymous tip line -- he hoped it was anonymous! If no one had been suspicious enough to take down his license plate, he decided had a decent shot at pulling it off. The second evening he made a point of surfing on the TV so they could watch the prominent news reports of her disappearance. He watched her closely. She was briefly excited to see her picture on TV, but as she listened to the commentary she got more thoughtful. Fortunately they had no description of his appearance and said that the police had no leads. When he turned the TV off, they sat. He waited for her reaction. 'You really, really weren't supposed to take me away, were you?" "No. Everyone is worried about your safety, as you can see." "Why are they so worried?" Ethan took a moment to formulate his explanation. "Since most men know how serious a crime it is, they would never do what I've done unless they were kind of sick and wanted to hurt you." "Do you want to hurt me?" "No! I guess I'm an even weirder guy who is willing to risk everything to keep you safe from your father." She thought a moment. "And from the way they talk, I can see how you'd be in a lot of trouble if they found you!" "Yup, you got it." "It's sad they're all so worried. Is my mommy worried?" she asked suddenly. "Yeah," he said, "she probably is if she's recovered enough to understand. But I have an idea. It will help a little, maybe." --------------------------------------------------------- She wrote: "Dear mommy, I see on the news everyone's worried about me. I'm OK! This man E took me away so daddy wouldn't beat me any more, but he's going to bring me back when he knows I'll be safe. I can run away any time I want but he thinks the police will take me back to daddy, so I decided to stay. Love, xoxxoooxoxoxooxxx, Anna" They drove an hour away to mail the letter. --------------------------------------------------------- Later that same evening she mentioned she wanted to take a bath. Baths! Right, you needed to coordinate with kids about baths. He dimly recalled that sometimes they didn't want to take them. He was greatly relieved to learn that she could do that all by herself -- he didn't really know enough about girls to know at what age that change happened. He learned that one of his jobs was brushing the snarls out of her hair in the morning. He had no idea how to do it and she was exasperated explaining things as simple as how he needed to start at the bottom and work up. But he caught on quickly. She started out being subdued and polite and obedient, but as she got more comfortable she didn't always do as she was told. Faced with that troublesome development, he spent long sessions online late at night taking a crash course in parenting. He decided her behavior was classified as "testing limits", so he made some limits, though some adjustments were required. When he announced a maximum of one hour of TV per day, her jaw dropped so far that he decided he'd have to allow two. Her bruises faded rapidly and he became more fully aware just how gorgeous a girl she was! She was mostly cheerful and energetic. Above all, her expressive face captivated him. But this girl missed her mother and had horrible memories of her father, and her face was as expressive in its sorrow as in its happiness. A week after she came to live with him, she sat beside him on the sofa and leaned her head on his shoulder. A little uncertain what to do, he just sat motionless. She then kind of wriggled her head into his armpit, and he tentatively put his arm around her. Her brief smile indicated that he had at least hit on something acceptable to her. But her brooding, faraway look returned. He had trouble making sense of his own feelings. She was a beautiful child and delightful company. He felt a tender ache for her and a fierce protectiveness. Was that what parents felt? If so, he decided he wanted to be a parent some day. As soon as this was over he would start dating more seriously. At 33, it was none too early to think about a family. Ethan felt he was faced with a balancing act. On the one hand he didn't want to be an adult who set no limits and let her run wild. On the other hand, if she got really annoyed with him, she could go to one of the neighbors' houses and he would quickly be in prison. He had found some online curriculum for third graders and with a reward system had gotten her to study a few hours a day. He went over the material with her in the evenings. They played board games together. He got her computer games of various sorts but did not give her access to the internet. It would be too easy for her to slip up and reveal something. She initially complained of being bored during the day when he was at work. Some days he allowed TV and other days he locked it up completely. But after complaining of boredom for a while, she found her inner resources. She found she liked reading and whipped through books about as fast as he could pick them up from the library. She did craft projects and make believe with pillows and empty boxes from the basement. When he was home, he got dragged into her play sometimes and with some trial and error he got the hang of playing his role -- whatever that was at the moment. A few days after she had leaned against him on the sofa, she plopped herself down in his lap and curled up with her head against his chest. He was surprised and pleased that she trusted him that much. After a minute she started crying softly, and when he asked what was wrong, she said she missed her mother. He felt very sad himself to see her so sad. This pattern went on for weeks. With occasional calls to the hospital, he was able to coax out of the nurses a fair sense of her mother's condition. He relayed to Anna the good news that her recovery was progressing well. She kept writing weekly letters to her mother. --------------------------------------------------------- Ethan kept a sort of online diary by writing himself emails. He was proud that he knew to keep himself safe by using a password that was 15 characters long, included digits and punctuation, and contained no common words. "Dear Diary, She has been here --- almost four weeks now. Off and on I've heard her crying in the night, and I've gone in, and within about a week she seemed to like it when I sat and held her hand until she went back to sleep. Then last night she arrived at my bedside sniffling and crawled into bed with me. I thought about making her go back to her own bed but I didn't have the heart to. She lay spooned back against me and I stroked her hair. I am trying to sort out my feelings. I feel very protective of her, and she takes my breath away, she is so wonderful and creative and vibrant -- and affectionate. Is this what daddies feel for their daughters? I think I'm going to be very sad when she goes back to live with her mother. I'll get over it though, somehow. But there was something about her body there in front of me in bed -- it didn't feel right. On the web it says children shouldn't get into bed with their parents after age six or so -- unless you read the "family bed" people, who say you should never kick them out. So who's to know? After she fell asleep I tried carrying her back to her own bed. But she's too big to carry easily, and she woke up. She got real upset at having to leave, so I let her snuggle in with me again. Then when she was asleep, I went to her room to sleep and left her in mine. That feels a little weird too, but not as bad as the other." "Dear Diary, Oh shit. I'm scared. She came in again last night. When I was stroking her hair, it came to me that I could also stroke her shoulder, or her front, and I felt uncomfortable. I thought about stroking her panties and my heart started pounding. I started getting an erection! I pulled my pelvis back to make sure she couldn't feel it, and I'm sure she didn't, but still. But daddies don't feel that way, right? I looked on the web and there's not much of help. Some parents report "flesh hunger" where they want to kiss and hug their children all over, but it's mostly mothers who report that. Make that only mothers who report it, but I wonder if the fathers are too embarrassed or worried what people will think. Ever since she's been here I've been jerking off as always in my bed, being careful to wipe up all the traces and hide the evidence. Since she's here I lock the door first. But now I've found that when I'm getting excited, I get fantasies of her popping into my mind along with my old girlfriends. I don't like it! Last night I could just imagine the feel of my hand reaching down the front of her panties, cupping -- and then I imagined one finger sliding into her little vagina, and that sent me over the edge. It's sick, but it's also exciting. I guess I don't need to be scared since I know I won't do anything with her, and fantasies don't hurt, right? But I don't like feeling this way. I don't want to be turned on by young girls." "Dear diary, She came in again last night. I was going to tell her no, but she was so sad that I couldn't resist. I feel uncomfortable when she snuggles up out in the living room in the evening, too. But I can't push her away. I want her to feel loved and accepted. But there's something more than just parental love and acceptance too. I keep it at bay, but I can feel it lurking. When I was very sure she was asleep I locked my door and easily enough found some free soft porn. I then poked around and found "child modeling sites". They have pictures of girls as young as three or four posed in cute ways -- including some in bathing suits. It's completely legal. Then I realized I found the pictures of those 8 and 9 year olds a lot more exciting than the adult porn! I don't like this one bit. I wonder if this has been lurking all the time and is why I took such a crazy risk taking her in the first place. In all my years, I've never heard of any stranger reacting to child abuse by kidnapping the child. It's mostly pedophiles who kidnap strange kids, so of course anyone who does it will get put in that category. So now I guess maybe I am, though I didn't know it! Sane guys, unlike me, would never do it. Whatever else, I'll make sure she never has the slightest inkling of what's going on in my mind! And if I have provided her with a loving home away from her abusive daddy, then she will have benefited from what was deep down motivated by my warped sexual preference. That word "pedophile" makes me shudder. But if I don't do anything, that's the main thing, right? And there's no way I'd do anything inappropriate with a girl -- especially Anna! But I can never let her come into my bed at night any more. Not given what I know about myself. I have to be prepared to be firm and hold my ground even if she does cry." "Dear Diary, Her mother is out of the hospital. Time to bring my Anna back home. It's going to break my heart. I'm totally in love with the dear thing. I'm afraid I've gotten more lax with my limits lately. But I do know that I've never touched her once in a bad way, never treated her any differently than a loving father would. On the emotional side, I've never dumped my worries on her, never even told her how much I'm going to miss her. I kept my resolution and made her stay in her own bed at night. She was only with me parts of four nights, but they are vivid in my memory even though it was months ago. Everyone's going to assume I was a pedophile for taking her. And it turns out maybe I am a pedophile, but I didn't know that when I took her, and I have made sure she never knows. I wonder if I would have dared to take her away if I had known of this thing lurking within me." --------------------------------------------------------- "Hello, Anna," he said, sitting on the edge of the bed. The girl woke with a yawn and stretched. It was a fine summer's day in early August. "I have a big surprise for you." "What?" she said, sitting up, coming wide awake remarkably quickly. He took her hands. "Your mother is home from the hospital. You can go home!" "When?" "Today!" "Oh, wow, oh, gee..." the girl said, babbling and bouncing around. It took a couple hours to get her to eat a little, to decide what to bring back with her, to take a bath and get dressed as nicely as her limited wardrobe allowed. On the long drive, the girl excitement died down now and then. "So what happens to you now?" she asked. "I'll come in with you to meet your mom, and then we'll see how it goes from there." "You'll like my mom!" --------------------------------------------------------- "Mommyyy!" the girl cried as the door opened. "Oh, Anna!" she shrieked, kneeling to embrace her child, tears flowing as she checked her all over. "Are you OK?" "I'm fine," she said. The mother's expression darkened to hatred as she saw the man behind her. "Who are you?" she asked Ethan, rising. He could see the pain in her face. She was still recuperating. "This is Ethan, mom! He's been letting me stay with him until you got better." "You bastard!" she said. "No, he's nice!" Anna said. Ethan felt for the woman. Here was her long-lost daughter returned to her arms, and behind her was the devil incarnate who had kidnapped her. "Mrs. Houpt," Ethan said. "I know this is very strange, but can I come in a minute?" "I think I need to make a phone call, first" she said, eying Ethan coldly. "Wait!" Ethan said with a voice of command, and she paused. Switching to a softer tone, he said, "There will be plenty of time for that. Give me a few minutes first." "What's the problem, mom? Why do you look so funny? Who do you want to call?" Ethan sat on one of the perpendicular couches in the living room, and indicated the other for the two of them. She hesitated, but Anna pulled her by the hand and the mother sat. Anna snuggled against her mother and squeezed her tight. Ethan spoke. "You want to know why your mom is upset, Anna... Here's the story. I told you that I would be in big trouble if they ever found out where you were, right?" The girl nodded. "Well, now your mom knows. She's scared of me and thinks I'm a criminal. Remember way back when I said only very bad men would kidnap a girl." "Kidnap?" "You know, take you away from your daddy and the police and all. Make you stay with him." "But you didn't make me stay. You asked me at first, and took me to the police station. And then you told me I could always go to any of the neighbors' houses." "I did, but your mother and everyone else won't really believe you had the choice." "Ethan has been really nice to me, mom!" "Here's the thing, Anna," he said. "Listen a minute. It happens a lot that grown-ups see a girl who is being abused. They try to get the police to make sure the girl is safe, and if that doesn't work, they just go away. That's what just about everyone does." "But what happens to the girl?" "I guess they figure it's something they can't change. The girl just has to suffer. So when I took you away like that it was very, very unusual. In fact, whenever a strange man takes a girl away, it's because he wants to do bad things to the girl." "What kind of bad things?" Ethan hesitated. "Get your mother to tell you later," he said, glancing at the fuming woman. "They might hurt you like your daddy did, but there are other things too." "Oh," said Anna quietly. "Anyway, I guess I am the only man who would take a girl away just to protect her. And no one is going to believe me. So what's probably going to happen when I go is that your mother is going to call the police, and they will come and get me and take me to jail." "But why?" "Because a man is never supposed to take a girl away like that. They all think you were supposed to stay with your daddy." "But I didn't want to stay with him. I was scared of him and he hit me all the time. Mommy, daddy was hitting me all the time! It hurt. I was so scared! I missed you so much!" she said, crying. "It's all going to be OK now, sweetie," the mother said, without total conviction. Since the kidnapper was still sitting in her living room, she naturally wasn't entirely sure how it was going to turn out. "See, Anna, all your mother knows is from those letters we've been sending her. And she doesn't know whether you were just writing things I made you say." "He didn't make me do anything, mommy." Trying to lighten the mood, Ethan said, "Oh, I wouldn't say that. I made you do your homework, and didn't let you watch too much television." "Yeah, and you yelled at me that one time." "Yeah, I shouldn't have." He looked at her mother, "She broke my grandmother's special platter that was on the mantelpiece. It was just an accident, but still I got mad." Returning his attention to the girl, he said, "Anyway, Anna, what your mother and everyone else is going to want to know is what I did that a mommy or a nice daddy wouldn't do." "You didn't let me go to school, but you said it was because then they'd send me back to my daddy and arrest you and everything." "Right." "So here's the thing, Mrs. Houpt. I did a really, really stupid thing as far as my own future is concerned. No one is going to believe I wasn't abusing your daughter. No man in his right mind would steal a girl like I did." "You didn't steal me, you asked me if I wanted to come with you." "I know, sweetie, but to all the frowning grown-ups, that doesn't matter. Think of it this way... suppose you got really mad at your mother one day and were outside, and I had asked you to come away like that and you said yes. That wouldn't be right, would it? Because it's up to mommies and daddies to raise their own children and not take advantage of a child's mood." "But if I missed my mommy an hour later and you took me right back home, that wouldn't be so bad, would it?" "I guess, but no one would see it that way," he said. It sounded lame, of course, because she had a point. "Anyway, Anna, you should tell your mother every last thing you want. Answer every question she asks you. Then the police are going to ask you lots and lots of questions too. And if somehow, just somehow, you can manage not to let them know who I am, and your mom decided not to let them know, then maybe I could keep living as a free man." "There's her father too, you know," said Mrs. Houpt in a low voice. "Yeah," Ethan said wearily. "Anna, you can tell your daddy anything you want too." "I don't want to see daddy ever again!" she said. "So, Mrs. Houpt, is there anything else I can tell you? If you want, I can just go down to the police station now and turn myself in. I'm at your mercy." He realized he might as well just tell her his contact information. "If you want to think about it, here's my cell number. And my name is Ethan Sanders, from Derry, New Hampshire. Any questions?" "No, no," the woman said breezily. "OK, then, I'll be on my way. Want to give me a goodbye hug, Anna?" The girl detached herself from her mother, who grasped at her and said, "Anna, no!" The girl ignored her and leapt into the man's arms as he sat on the sofa. "When can I see you again?" Ethan fought back tears. "I bet you'll never get to see me again, because I'll be in prison." "Why? Mommy's not going to turn you in, is she?" "I think she is -- but even if she didn't, the word will get out somehow. So," he said, gently pushing the girl off of him as he stood up, "I have to go. I have loved so much having you stay with me. I think you're just wonderful, and I'm going to miss you a whole lot," he said, finally unable to hold back his tears. "Don't be so sad, Ethan!" said the girl, concerned. "Sorry, honey, it's OK, it's OK," he said, hurrying down the front walk to his car. Ethan waited until his sobbing had stopped, and drove slowly back to New Hampshire. Part of him knew he was just putting off the inevitable, and part was in denial about what would happen. He never thought seriously of trying to run and take on a new identity. He just wasn't the crafty type. He'd slip up within a week. As he drove, all the colors seemed brighter, though. A pang seared his heart as he opened his front door. Freedom! It was so sweet when you knew it would be gone soon. Ethan didn't fall asleep for a long time that night. He missed Anna, of course. But he also figured his hours of freedom were limited. He had barely fallen asleep when he realized it was time to get up if he was going to be on time to work. Was there any point? He decided he might as well enjoy that little bit of normalcy as well, as long as it was available to him. The ability to decide to go to work was precious, even if you didn't like your job. Occasionally during that day he forgot his grave situation as he conducted his market research. He was still a free man at quitting time. Instead of going straight home, he figured he would enjoy one last meal out. The steak was very juicy. He had just gotten home at 9pm when his cell phone rang. He jumped, startled, heart pounding. "Hello," he said. "Hello, Mr. Sanders?" "Yes." "This is Caroline Houpt, Anna's mother." "Oh, hello, Mrs. Houpt. How's Anna?" Such a normal conversation. "I'll have to admit, I can't get anything out of Anna indicating you hurt her in any way. She likes you. She backs up everything you've said, including what her father did to her. I knew he was the scum of the earth, but I didn't think the man was capable of what he did." "That's why I took her, of course. Anyway, I'm glad that she doesn't seem hurt." He waited for what came next. Something that boiled down to, "But you have to go to jail for life anyway," perhaps? "I've been in touch with a private attorney. He says the three of us should talk. Could you care to join us? Some day when you can get off work?" He nearly laughed, imagining saying, "Gosh, I just don't have any time free this week, so I guess I'll have to go to jail for life." Yeah, right. "The sooner the better. You haven't called the police or anything?" "No, not yet. I wanted to enjoy her company before the police get their clutches on her. She does seem so happy. She cries about her daddy, but not about you. Anyway, no one knows she's back yet. I've got to tell them tomorrow. And of course once they know she's back, all hell will break loose." "Yup, and grind me up." --------------------------------------------------------- Somehow the attorney worked out a deal with the prosecutor. Ethan would spend a mere eight weeks in jail. His plea bargain would involve 400 hours of community service and ten years of probation. Then the investigators cracked his email account, the one he had felt so confident was secure. Then things took a very different turn. --------------------------------------------------------- "Mrs. Houpt," he said, speaking into the telephone to the woman on the other side of the plexiglass. "Thank you so much for coming." "I'm not happy to be here, but I figured I owed you a hearing. So, was it just an accident that you hid your pedophilia from us during all those negotiations?" "Of course not. They're embarrassing fantasies I had. I wasn't proud of them. But I thought that since I never, ever acted on them, and it was just in my head, it didn't matter." "You admit that you were masturbating" -- Mrs. Houpt frowned with disgust at the word -- "while thinking about her." "Yes," Ethan said, flushing slightly, "In that diary, my deepest private fantasies are on display for all to see. But do you think teachers don't fantasize about their students? Men about their daughters? Husbands about the sexy woman next door?" "What if she had come across 'evidence' of your private relief?" "I was very careful, and even if she did, the 'evidence' wouldn't have said, 'I was thinking about you while this was... happening', would it?" Mrs. Houpt sat silently. Ethan continued, "Has Anna's story changed? Does she know about my emails?" "Of course not. We're not going to traumatize her with your sick thoughts." "OK, I guess I can't blame you. But when you question her, does she tell a different story? Anything that seems like abuse?" "No, but we figure that you must have been molesting her while she slept." "I was not! I never molested her!" "Well, of course you're not going to admit it, right? You were just lucky she didn't wake up while you were doing things to her. Maybe she did and just put it out of her mind, or didn't realize what you were doing." "I can't possibly prove myself innocent!" "There's no need to try. You were a strange man. You kidnapped a girl. Men who kidnap girls are always child abusers. If your thing was getting off on her while she was asleep -- it makes me shudder just to think of it! -- that doesn't change anything." "It doesn't matter that I said I'd let her go at any time? That I took her to the police station at the beginning? That I only did it after finding out her father was beating her?" "You found out her father was beating her, so you had an opportunity to get her to trust you and come with you. You knew she wouldn't go to the police, because you tricked her into thinking she would be sent back to her father. And you must have had her afraid in some way that she couldn't go to the neighbors, that something bad would happen." "She knew what would happen -- she would go back to her father's!" "We don't know that. Some people say yes, some say no." "Sure, the city is going to try to cover its ass. How can they admit they'd send a kid back to her abusive father? But the independent experts all say it was very unlikely." "Not all." "Sure, the prosecution dug up a maverick. Isn't the point that I thought she would likely go back to her father; that was my best judgment..." "It was your self-serving judgment so you could molest her." Ethan clenched his fists but controlled himself. "I was not molesting her! It was my best judgment about what would happen to her. I told her I didn't know for sure, and she seemed to get it. Given that she was fairly happy with me and terrified of her father, she didn't want to take the risk." "She wasn't old enough to make that decision." "No, not legally. But she is a very smart little girl. And, why did I bring her back to you?" "You got tired of her. The timing was just a coincidence -- or maybe you did care for her a little in your sick way and didn't want her to get beaten any more." "I never abused her! I took her to keep her from being beaten! I brought her back as soon as you could take custody again!" "We're not getting anywhere here." "Mrs Houpt, please. Listen... You know she was being beaten by her father. And because I took her, that stopped, right? And you know that even if I did bad stuff -- which I didn't -- she didn't know it! She wasn't harmed by it. Isn't she better off?" "Maybe she'll recover those memories later in life. She'll learn what pedophilia is, and she'll find out you were a child abuser and she'll have to come to terms with the knowledge that she was kidnapped by a pedophile -- even if you didn't happen to abuse her." "But --" "You admit that in the eyes of the law you kidnapped her?" "I did, but -- " "Yes or no?" "Yes," Ethan said in a small voice. "You admit kidnapping is a crime?" "Yes, of course." "Well, then you are going to pay for your crime. Goodbye, Mr. Sanders." --------------------------------------------------------- When it came to the depositions, Mrs. Houpt had enough integrity to insist that Anna wasn't aware of having been harmed in any way and wasn't hiding anything. But Ethan was guilty of kidnapping. Whatever extenuating circumstances there might have been were all wiped away by one fact: in his thoughts he was a pedophile, and pedophiles are sinister, fundamentally different creatures who are less than human. Ethan got something as good as a life sentence. The important part was when he would be eligible for parole, which was eight years. It would have been more like three if he didn't have "Pedophile" stamped across his forehead in red letters. He was released after nine years. He got beaten up a few times when he got to prison. Fortunately, he found a way to tell his story that emphasized the fantasy and the masturbation, something his fellow prisoners could sympathize with. They believed him when he said he hadn't touched the girl. He avoided being raped. --------------------------------------------------------- Anna was eleven when she learned about Ethan's pedophilic inclinations. When she was twelve she convinced her mother to let her visit him. She believed that he had never meant her any harm, but she was just a child. Her quarterly visits were the one thing he looked forward to, the thing that kept him going -- seeing her through the plexiglass for a few minutes, a little older each time. When he was released, he was able to find employment as a bus boy. He had occasional brief relationships with women but none became serious. Many had sympathy when they found out he was an ex-con, but the sympathy vanished when they found out about his "pedophile" label. The one bright spot in his life was Anna. She kept in touch. She married and had a family of her own. At her invitation, he moved to an apartment not far from them, and she insisted on inviting him regularly to family dinners and outings. He became known as Uncle Ethan. She never forgot what he had done for her. Alone among others, she was content to view his private fantasies as his business and no one else's. ======================================================= I'm always eager for comments, whether good, bad or mixed. Comments to sterling27@live.com.