The Abduction

Welcome to The Spot Writers. The prompt for this cycle is to write a story that begins with: “And then it began to rain.” Phil Yeats wrote this week’s story.

In April, 2024, he published The Body on Karli’s Beach, the third book in his Barrettsport Mysteries, a series of soft-boiled mysteries set in a fictional South Shore Nova Scotia town. For information about these books, and The Road to Environmental Armageddon, his trilogy about the hazards of ignoring human-induced climate change, visit his website: https://alankemisterauthor.wordpress.com/

 

The Abduction

Phil Yeats

 

And then it began to rain. Perfect, I thought as I loitered inside the library watching the young woman sitting on the grass reading a book with her possessions scattered about her. She seemed oblivious to the darkening sky and the inevitability of a serious deluge.

I’d been watching her for days, waiting for this opportunity. The convergence of her predictable behaviour and a late afternoon downpour were inevitable, and I was prepared. I hurried outside and raised my nondescript black golf umbrella just as the large drops increased in number. I held it over her as she scrambled to gather her belongings.

She looked up and recognized me as I knew she would. We’d never spoken, but we’d spent many hours in the same lecture rooms listening to the same boring professors over the past seven months. I was careful to sit in various seats, including ones where she would notice me. 

“Oh, it’s you,” she said. “If you could hold your giant umbrella just where you have it while I get organized, I’d really appreciate it.”

“Back inside,” I said, nodding toward the library when she’d gathered all her stuff, “or your car, the bus stop, or walking home?” 

I knew her answer before she expressed it, but had to maintain the façade of not knowing her or where she may be going.

She sighed, her shoulders slumping. “Been stalling long enough, so I guess I’m walking home. Only eight blocks, but God, I’ll get soaked in this downpour.”

“Not far, and I have an umbrella. We could walk together and it would keep us both reasonably dry.” 

“Could you? That would be a big help, but I can’t invite you in. It’s just not on.”

“No problem. Show me the way and we’ll have you home in no time.”

Three blocks along the way, we skirted a small park. It was deserted in the rainstorm. As we approached my conveniently located SUV, I reached across and jabbed the sedative-containing needle into her arm. She barely flinched before collapsing. I supported her weight with my umbrella-holding arm, returned the syringe to my jacket pocket, and triggered the hatch release mechanism. She was inside my vehicle, and we were on our way to my rural hideaway within seconds.

 

I had her resting on my sofa when she suddenly opened her eyes. Had she been awake, trying to assess the situation for some time?

“What’s going on? A bizarre kidnapping? You know you’ll never get away with it.”

“I kidnapped you, but it’s for your own good. You must establish a life separate from your overbearing parents.”

“Yeah, sure. You expect me to believe that? What comes next? A seduction that’s supposed to generate a life-changing experience? Not happening buddy, and you know it.”

I stepped back, somewhat surprised. During the months I’d been watching her, she never stood up to anyone. I couldn’t let that worry me. My mission was clear, and turning back wasn’t an option. “I’m here to help improve your marks and build the self-esteem you need to stand up to your parents and anyone else who’s putting you down.”

“But those exams are two weeks away.”

“Ten days ’till your first one,” I said before pointing across the room at a computer station. “No time to waste. Your job is to study for your exams and develop a more positive outlook on life. Everything you need is over there. And me. My job is to provide you with food and drink, clean clothes, and guidance with anything you don’t understand.”

“My parents and others will miss me.”

“Covid. Isolating at a clinic with your needs met and optimum opportunity to study for those all-important exams.”

She shook her head before glancing at the unprotected windows and the inviting-looking front door. “That’s absolutely crazy. What if I get up and walk out?”

“This innocent-looking building is a veritable fortress. Accept that you’ll be spending ten days in isolation, focusing on your exams. It’s what you and every other student should do, anyway.”

 

Ten days later, at 3 a.m., I sat at her workstation and crafted her a note. 

The clothes I purchased are yours to keep, as is anything you want from this workstation. I’m leaving money for a taxi. He’ll arrive when the front door lock releases at 8 a.m., plenty of time to take everything home and make it for your morning exam. We both know you’ll ace it and your other five. Good luck with the rest of your life.

I had one last look around the little cottage, picked up the briefcase with the money her father paid me for this job, and set off to plan my approach to the next student who needed motivating.

 

****

The Spot Writers:

Val Muller: http://www.valmuller.com/blog/

Catherine A. MacKenzie: https://writingwicket.wordpress.com/wicker-chitter/

Phil Yeats: https://alankemisterauthor.wordpress.com/

Chiara De Giorgi: https://chiaradegiorgi.blogspot.com/