An Abducted Date
By Christopher Estrada
An Abducted Date
Copyright 2012 Christopher Estrada.
ISBN: 978-1-476-28476-7
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners.
I'd like to take a moment to thank three people that have helped me along the way with these short stories.
Stephanie.
You've been there from the beginning. Don't worry, I'll finish the original.
Elisabeth Pethybridge.
You've made the editing process enjoyable and your comments have helped me get better.
Lauren.
You're right. I'll try to make them longer.
Table of Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
About the Author
Preview of On the Track of Loss
Chapter One
"So, class, who can tell me the correct combination of dots and dashes to say, "My name is... Jason Peirce?" I hadn't been paying much attention to the lecture. But the human mind has this magical ability to recall the context of a sentence or two surrounding its own name. So I immediately sat up straight and thought for a split second before starting to speak out a string of dots and dashes. In total there are twenty two dashes and twenty five dots in that phrase. I had known Morse Code since I had turned seven. Well, I had started learning it at that point. My father is a former police officer from a city down the Arrowhead Mountain. He loved his job and the job, or the other officers, loved him. He made me learn the outdated code just because it was good knowledge to have, just in case. It took me a few months to memorize each letter's combination, and a few more weeks to be able to form complete messages.
"Yes, that is correct, Mr. Peirce, good job." He didn't look so thrilled to say that. I laughed to myself. "Okay, so homework tonight is to translate a page from a book of your choice. Make sure to write in the author's name and the title of the book." The bell rang just as he finished speaking and everyone started getting up to leave. Everyone but my friend Wendy.
"Something wrong, Wendy?" I asked as I stood, picking up my backpack and taking a few steps toward her desk.
"Huh? Oh, yeah! I was just thinking about how quickly you recovered on that surprise question." She laughed. "The look on his face was priceless!" She seemed a little nervous. Wendy and I had been good friends since elementary school. We started out the door into the main hall of Rim of the World High School. Classes were out for the day and there was the ever present party attitude in the air. Forget the fact that it was only Wednesday. "So Jason, what are you..."
"Wanna go out sometime?" It was an impulse. I'd been planning to ask her for forever, but that wasn't the way I envisioned it. "I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to cut you off like that." I hung my head in a bit of shame.
"Oh my gosh! It's no wonder we get along so great together. I was about to ask you the same thing!" So that was why she seemed nervous. She was positively beaming as I looked into her light hazel eyes.
I turned my frown upside down as I asked, "So, that's a yes?"
"Of course! Where and when?" We had stopped next to her car. A '71 Camaro RS in bright orange with a white rally stripe. The car always reminded me of the time in second grade when she went on a carrot binge. Her face was orange for a week. Only once did she smile that week. When the teacher decided to come into class wearing blue face paint.
"Well, I was thinking this weekend. Dad is taking a trip down to Riverside. I thought it would be cool to get off the mountain for a day too. We could walk around main street and well, find something to do there." I laughed.
"It's a date then." With that she leaned forward, kissed me on my cheek and jumped into her car. I just stood there watching as she pulled out of the parking lot, spinning the tires as she took to the highway.
"It's a date. It's my first date." I smiled and started walking toward my Crown Vic.
When I got home I saw my father washing his F-250 in the driveway, so I parked just off the street. "Hey Dad. What is this? The third time you've washed the truck this week?" He laughed at that and started hosing the soap suds down.
"Try the third time this month." It was only the fourth of March. "I have some chicken in the oven. It should be ready in another ten minutes. Start some potatoes or something, will ya? And tea!" He yelled that last bit as the front door closed behind me.
I tossed my backpack and Dickies jacket onto the sofa by the front door and headed into the kitchen. Our house was decently sized and really more than enough space for just the two of us. We kept it clean, but it was essentially a bachelor pad. The dishes would pile up until the weekend and the same went for the laundry. There was no art and very little in the way of fashion in any of the rooms but mine. Opening the oven door I saw that it was my mom's special chicken recipe.
Mom had died a year and a half earlier. A severe consequence of my Dad's profession. He had tried to arrest the wrong guy's son. Tried and failed. The bad guys figured out where we lived, Big Bear at the time, and drove by with automatic weapons pointed and shooting out the window. Dad and I had been in the back and didn't get hurt, but Mom had been vacuuming in the foyer by a window. She took a 9mm bullet to the parietal lobe and was gone before the bullets stopped raining down on the house. We both took it hard, but how else could we take it? She was my mother, and they had been married for three years before I was ever even thought of. Dad took on the jerks afterward. The police got them and they were rotting behind bars with no possibility of release. He retired and we moved to Crestline. Not too far from Big Bear, but far enough.
I got out two pans, one for the instant potatoes and the other for the tea. A few minutes later and my contribution was ready. Dad walked in and plopped onto the sofa. "Anything interesting happen?" He called from the front.
"You could say that. I got a date with Wendy Gravens."
"Gravens? Tom's daughter? Cool. Nice pick son." He laughed a bit and walked into the kitchen to join me. Wendy's dad was also a cop and it was through my dad's friendship with him that I came to meet Wendy all those years ago. "Where are you going to take her?"
"I figured we could join you in Riverside this weekend. Walk around the Galleria or Main Street or something."
"Sure, and then dinner at the Old Spaghetti Factory to close off the night. Sounds like a great idea. I'll be sure to leave you two alone for awhile." He hit me softly on the arm. More of a pat on the back type of hit, just, on the arm.
"So, how about that dinner?" I suggested as I pulled open the stove a second time. I took the chicken out and we sat down to eat.
The next day at school seemed to fly by. I seemed to be whizzing through every class until sixth period's Military History where I would see Wendy again. We went to the front to turn in our homework and she sneaked a note into my hand as we briefly brushed together. Her brown hair was blown into my face by Mr. Duncan's fan. It smelled faintly of cherries and vanilla. When I got back to my seat towards the back of the class I surreptitiously opened the short letter.
~I can't wait for this weekend. Stay back after class, I want to talk to you again. Work out the details. -W.~
Her handwriting was curly and precise. I had seen it before, and
would have recognized it anywhere, but I'd never really looked at each letter before. The majority of her script was printed but every capital was written in cursive.
A few seconds later and Duncan was droning on again about Morse code. Instantly bored, I put my head on the desk. Then I smelled the vanilla again. Wendy had sprayed a puff of her perfume onto the note. Wow. I looked up again, and found myself studying her. She wasn't the hottest girl on campus. But she was above average in my opinion. Her brown hair was cut just below the shoulder and she wore it in waves today. She had on a tee-shirt which she had received at band camp in freshman year. She had since quit the band and moved on to the school's Photo Club and Book Club which both put together the school's big projects. She had a hand in the yearbooks, the literary magazine, the monthly paper, and the school website.
Her shirt had been slightly outgrown in the two years since she got it. She had about B-cups hidden beneath the white cotton shirt. She wore blue boot cut Levi's and a glittering pink belt with a cowboy sized buckle. Her footwear was a simple pair of white Sketchers. She glanced my way and smiled at my attention. Her teeth were straight and bright white. Her eyes were even lighter than the day before thanks to her white shirt. I grinned back and got busted.
"Mr. Peirce!"
Damn... "Yes, sir?"
"Please tell the class about the page you translated into Morse's code."
That's not so bad a punishment. "Well, I picked a page of The Bourne Identity by Robert Ludlum. The page is from a point in the book where Jason," I paused for the irony to set in, and continued after a few laughs. "learns that he can speak several languages, but he doesn't know why. He also learns that the doctor that saved his life is an alcoholic that only sobered up enough to extract the bullets from Bourne's body. The doctor had lost his practice due to his drinking and Bourne is trying to work out how he could still be alive. That was page fifteen in my paperback copy." I smiled up to Mr. Duncan as he regretted calling on me for the second day in a row. I certainly was not that teacher's pet.
I again set my head on my desk and inhaled the sweet perfume for the last twenty minutes of class.
After the bell rang I approached Wendy. We walked out together again talking about our approaching date. "So, Saturday at eleven you and your dad will pick me up at my house. Okay, I'll be ready." She tossed her jacket and bag into the back of her car and gave me a quick hug and another peck on the cheek. This time I returned the favor.
Chapter Two
The drive down to Riverside was painless enough. Traffic was light for a Saturday and we arrived at the Tyler Mall at about a quarter after twelve. Wendy and I walked around the huge complex for an hour before getting tired of the crowds and noise.
Lunch was taken at a small restaurant just outside the Galleria. I had a simple cheeseburger and Wendy had a grilled cheese sandwich with a small salad. She was a Thousand Island girl. It was different. She had forgotten to tell the waitress that she didn't care for cabbage and avoided it as she picked at the lettuce. Her sandwich lasted only a few minutes as she claimed it was just "sooo good." Is it weird that I studied her eating habits? In many ways, she acted like a guy. Unlike most girls, she didn't cover her mouth with her hand when she spoke after a bite and chewed. She took great bites and big gulps of her Dr. Pepper.
We finished eating and decided to walk down Tyler Avenue. We went into the Best Buy and looked at all the latest gizmos. "I've been waiting forever for Nikon to come out with a new camera. Well, one that I like and can afford. I'm even considering a Sony if they don't get one out soon." She said as we entered the digital imaging department.
"Not a Canon fan, I take it?" She got a little red in the face.
"I used to be. They have great cameras, but I had a terrible experience when I tried to have them fix my old Rebel X film camera. I sent it to them as instructed, with just the body cap, and it came back to me with a scratched mirror, and the shutter wasn't timing right. I'd set it for half a second and get a 5 second exposure. Then they didn't want to fix it again. So I gave them the finger through the phone and tossed the camera in the trash."
"Ouch. Sounds like I would have done the same thing. I don't know if you know this, but I've been into cameras myself for a few years. First it was a waterproof film camera and then an old Spotmatic. I've thought about making it my career, but I've actually been leaning more towards being a cop like our dads."
"Do you really like photography though? Enough that you can see the world in more ways than one?" She was getting a little excited.
"Yeah. It's fun looking around through the viewfinder. Sometimes I find myself lying down and clicking away at things from a lower angle. I'm not the best, and I still have no clue how to control the background, but I'm getting there." I picked up a Sony camera. It's badge read "a900". It felt good in my hand. Light, yet heavy enough to let you know it's still there..
"That's currently Sony's best. Full Frame, and full priced." Wendy took the camera from me and looked through the eyepiece. She held down the shutter release button and the camera clicked away. "Five frames a second. If only I had the money." She set the camera back down and we continued our tour through the store.
"Yeah, we're at the Best Buy down Tyler. Off the freeway, take a right and it will be a mile or so down on the left. See ya soon." My dad and I hung up our phones. "He's going to take us down to Main Street and Mission. There's a bit more to do down there."
"Sounds great. So, Jason, what are your plans after school? Are you gonna go to college somewhere?" Wendy grabbed hold of my left arm as we walked out of Best Buy. She was hugging me sideways with her head on my shoulder.
"I'm still thinking about it. I don't know if I can stand another two or four years of school just yet. Maybe, for criminal justice or something. To help as a cop. But even that is still undecided. I've got some thinking to do over the next eighteen months."
We were standing outside of the Best Buy when a group of guys, mostly Hispanic, walked by.
"Dudes look at the nice ass on THAT one!" One of them said rather loudly.
"Yeah man, it's nice. Hey chica, why don't you leave that white boy and come see what real men can do?!" another said; they were right behind us.
"Why don't you go find your own girlfriend, one who can put up with your degrading friends!?" Wendy said loud enough for them to hear without facing them.
"C'mon, let's just walk away," I whispered and started moving.
"Oh, what? You think you're too good for us? You need to keep your girl in check, whitey."
I continued to ignore them and felt Wendy squeeze my arm a little tighter. "Hellooo. I'm talking to you white boy."
"And I'm not talking to you." I said sarcastically. Then I felt one of the four guys grab my shoulder and turn me around.
"No one talks to me like that, cracker. You wanna get hurt?" He had his hands up in fists. I immediately pulled Wendy behind me and started backing us farther away, stepping into the parking lot.
Just as the guy started to make a swing we heard my dad's truck screech to a stop behind us. He jumped out of the truck and the little gang started backing off. I looked around and saw that my six foot tall old man had his .45 caliber USP handgun in his hand pointed at the feet of our would be attackers.
"Jason, Wendy, into the truck now. You four, start walking." As Wendy and I climbed into the truck we heard a few people start to yell about a man with a gun. Some started screaming and my dad finally got back into the truck and took off.
Within a minute of screeching out of the Best Buy complex we were onto the freeway heading to Mission Inn Avenue. Dad hadn't said a word. He was letting the adrenaline run out. I had gotten into the back of the crew cab when we took off and was holding Wendy tight. She was staring at the unloaded handgun that was sitting on the center console. Dad was bluffing with it, but the clip was always nearby, in his pocket perhaps. I knew that he carried the weapon with him everywhere. He was licensed and usually had a holste
r on his belt, but I hadn't noticed it today.
"Thanks for getting there so fast, Dad." I barely heard the words from my mouth.
"Yeah. You're a real hero, Mr. Peirce. Thank you," Wendy added. When we pulled onto the off ramp my father broke his silence.
"We were all just lucky this time." He sighed a deep breath. "You two could have been hurt really bad. I recognized one of their group as a local gang member. A violent one. I'm lucky no Riverside PD guys were around. Otherwise I'd be heading into a cell for brandishing a firearm, maybe attempted murder if they really wanted to make an example out of me. Like I said, we got really lucky."
Wendy and I stayed quiet as dad parked just off of Mission. We exited the truck and walked to just outside an art gallery.
"Okay, you two head on down to Main Street. I've got to meet a friend over at the Mission in a few minutes. I'll meet you in an hour at the Gandhi sculpture. Five o'clock."
I nodded and Wendy said, "Okay, see you then!"
We parted ways, walking to University Avenue and then down to Main Street. Since it was right there, Wendy led me to the UCR Museum of Photography. "I've been here a few times and it's always so amazing to see all the pictures and cameras. Some of these people like to waste space though. They put one inch photos into huge frames and matting. It just doesn't make sense to me."
I smile and open the door. "I know what you mean, I've been in once. What's the admission?"
There was a university girl sitting at the reception desk who looked up when we entered. "Do you go to UCR or RCC?" We shake our heads in answer. "Three dollars then, each." I pulled out my wallet and handed her a ten. I got this funny feeling as she handed me back the four dollars in change. "Sorry, we're out of ones right now. I hope you don't mind the quarters."
"Yeah, sure. It's no problem." I had turned to look outside, but didn't get to see anything beyond a huge cannon of a camera in the foyer.