kidnapped(P.S. Winn) Kidnapped

By P.S. Winn
Copyright 2013




Looking out the kitchen window, I could see that spring was making way for summer. I usually liked the long, lazy summer days, but not this year. I knew this summer would be flying by. Little Missy was starting kindergarten in the fall. I knew that day would be here too soon. As I stood and began finishing up the breakfast dishes, the girl in my thoughts came up behind me and pulled on my shirt. I turned to see Missy standing there. She had decided about a month ago she wanted dress herself. This included picking out her own outfits. Melissa Ann stood before me dressed in orange corduroys, a green shirt and her new pink tennis shoes. A real vision.
“Can I go out back and play mom?”
I smiled at her. “Don’t you want to change first?”
Missy’s tiny hands went to her hips. I knew that stance of stubborn defiance well. Unfortunately she got her stubborn streak from both Steve and I.
“I just picked out these clothes.”

I bent over and kissed the top of Missy’s head. Her hair was dark blond, like mine. I could see it growing darker every day. Soon I was sure it would end up dark brown, like Steve’s. I looked into Missy’s big blue eyes. Those blue eyes she had gotten from both parents. Although their shape was round, more like my own.
“Okay honey, go ahead and go play.”
I figured if people thought I dressed my daughter funny it was just too bad.

As I finished the dishes, I watched my daughter through the window as she played in the backyard. I loved the yard with its chain link fence all around. Steve had built Missy a swing set with a combination jungle gym in our backyard. She could spend all day playing on it and not grow tired. I knew it was hard on Missy being an only child. I worried about her being lonely. She always seemed to find ways to fill up her day though.

When Missy had been born, something had gone wrong, terribly wrong. We are both lucky to be alive. The Doctor had told Steve and I the chances of my delivering another child were extremely slim. Both the child and I would likely die.

So, for now Missy was it. I was more than satisfied with my lovely, little Missy. Steve and I both figured if we wanted another child bad enough we could always try adoption.

I stopped my daydreaming. I would never get anything accomplished standing here watching Missy. I took one final look at her; now going down the slide, then went to get started on the bedrooms.
I cleaned the bedrooms, bathroom and the living room. By then I figured it was time for Missy to come in. She’d been playing almost two hours. I headed out the back door. Looking first to the swing set I didn’t see Missy. I scanned the rest of the backyard, no Missy. It was then that I noticed the gate was open. Missy knew better than to go out that gate without asking.

I walked to the two closest neighbors, no sign of Missy. Then I thought of Mrs. Schmidt. She was an elderly lady who lived at the end of our block. She always had cookies and a kind word for any child that might step by her home.
I walked quickly to Mrs. Schmidt’s, silently praying for Missy to be there. Mrs. Schmidt answered the door with a bright smile and a cheerful hello. I tried to smile back, but it was hard to force the happiness when all I could feel was dread.
“Hello Mrs. Schmidt, I’m Karen Harper, Missy’s mother. I was wondering if maybe you've seen her today?”
My mind was screaming. ‘Say yes, please say yes.’ But Mrs. Schmidt shook her head of white hair.
“Not today, can’t you find her?”
When I shook my head, Mrs. Schmidt stepped outside. “I hope you won’t think I’m nosy, but when I was getting my mail this morning I couldn't help but notice the young man at your house. Maybe Missy is with him.”
I looked puzzled. I didn’t see any young man. “What young man?”
Mrs. Schmidt shrugged her shoulders. “I've never seen him before. He had a blue car parked in front of your house. I noticed him because he kept looking around like he was lost.”

Or nervous I thought. I thanked Mrs. Schmidt and then practically ran home. I called Sheriff Barnett first. I knew that on all the television shows they always said you had to wait like twenty four hours or something for a search to be started. But I knew Tom Barnett and Missy was only five. I knew Tom would get things going. I breathed a sigh of relief when he said he would come right over.

While I waited for the Sheriff, I called my husband Steve and filled him in.
The Sheriff pulled up outside followed by two truckloads of men. I knew I was lucky then to live in such a small, close knit community.
The Sheriff assigned everyone different areas and the search began. It was past noon now. Missy had gone outside about 9:30. The last time I had looked out the window at her was about ten.

I waited at home for Steve, pacing the floor. When he finally got there we asked Mrs. Schmidt if she would come and stay at our house, in case Missy came back there. Then we joined the search.

At three o’clock everyone met back at our house as previously arranged.
Mrs. Schmidt, bless her heart, had made coffee, tea and sandwiches.
This time when everyone went back out, I stayed home. I couldn't stand the devastation I felt every time I’d spot a dark blond head and find it belonged to someone other than Missy. I tried not to think of all the horror stories I’d heard as I poured Mrs. Schmidt and I a cup of coffee. My hand trembled. Mrs. Schmidt was trying to take my mind off my worries. She tried telling me how these things had a way of working out.
That’s when I heard a child’s cry. I ran to the front door and then out into the street, followed closely by Mrs. Schmidt. There at the end of the block I saw her, my little Missy. Her mismatched outfit was gone. In its place she wore an ugly jungle print dress. One made for a much older body type. It looked like it came out of a Tarzan movie.

As I got closer, I could see my baby’s tear streaked face. My heart felt like someone had clenched it with icy fingers when I ran toward her. Missy’s blue eyes welled up with new tears when she saw me running toward her. I grabbed her in a tight hug as tears streamed from my own blue eyes. Nothing ever felt as good as holding Missy did at that moment.

“Mommy, mommy.” Missy sobbed the words over and over again. As I held Missy, I felt Mrs. Schmidt’s comforting arm around my shoulders.
Slowly we walked back to my home. I sat on the couch and held Missy tight. I wanted to wait for Sheriff Barnett to get back before having Missy talk about what had happened. A million terrible things went through my mind as we waited.

When the search crews finally pulled up outside, Mrs. Schmidt went out to share the news with them.
Steve and the Sheriff entered together, letting the other helpers go home for the time being. I needed to find time to thank them all. For now Missy was my only concern.
Missy looked up and held out her arms to her dad. The tears started over again.
Steve joined us on the couch. Hugging Melissa, Steve told her over and over again how brave and smart she had been.

Sheriff Barnett sat on the chair closest to the couch. He waited for the sobs to subside before speaking.
“Missy, I know this is hard, but can you tell us what happened?”
He talked in a gentle, soothing voice, letting Missy know that it was okay to tell and that whatever happened it wasn't her fault.
Missy looked questioningly at both Steve and I. We both nodded our okays to her. Missy sat very still for a moment, eyes closed. Slowly she opened them.
“I saw the man in our yard. He told me he needed some help. I went out the gate, that was bad.”
Missy looked at me, probably expecting some kind of punishment for disobeying.
“It’s okay honey, tell us what else happened.”
A part of me didn’t want to know and a part of me had to know what had happened.
“When I got close, he covered my mouth, so I couldn't even yell. He threw me in his car. He told me he would kill me if I screamed. We drove to a house. He took my clothes and made me wear this thing. He watched me mommy. I knew he was bad.”
I felt like crying for Missy, but I knew that would only scare her. I swallowed back my tears.
“The man tried to touch me in a bad place. I kicked him and bit his hand. I know I’m not supposed to bite, but he was bad. His hand was bleeding; he swore at me and tried to hit me. I screamed then and ran and ran. At first I didn’t know where I was, but then I kept running until I knew. I was so scared, but I found home. I saw mommy in the street and I found home.”

Missy hid her face against my shirt. I smoothed her hair. “It’s okay honey. It’s not your fault; none of this is your fault. You were so smart and brave.”
Sheriff Barnett nodded. “That’s right Missy. Now I want to ask you to be brave one more time and help me. Do you think you could find that house?’
Missy nodded, her blue eyes wide.
“Yes, but I don’t want to go to that bad man.”
The Sheriff shook his head. “You won’t have to, just show me the house. I want to put that bad man in jail where he can’t hurt anyone.”

The four of us got in the Sheriff’s car. I sat in the middle with Missy on my lap. I had taken the time to change her in to a short suit, giving the ‘Tarzan’ dress to the Sheriff. I could barely get myself to touch it long enough to pick it up and hand it over. It didn’t look dirty, but to me it was the filthiest thing I had ever seen.

After we had driven up and down several streets, Missy suddenly screamed and pointed. “That’s it, that’s the house.”
Sheriff Barnett pulled in behind a blue car. I remembered Mrs. Schmidt had seen a blue car that morning, I told the Sheriff.
Sheriff Barnett got out of the car, telling us to stay put. We saw him go to the front door of the older home. He knocked on the door, then shouted something before lifting a leg and kicking the door in. The Sheriff ran into the house.

A few minutes later we heard loud shouts from inside. Steve opened the door. I grabbed his arm, telling him to wait, just a minute. He must have heard the pleading in my voice or saw it in my eyes when he turned back to me because he only stood by the door of the car waiting.

A moment later, Sheriff Barnett came to the car. He reached in and grabbed the police radio. The Sheriff called for an ambulance. When he finished he turned to us. He told us how the man had shot twice at him; the sheriff had fallen to the floor and fired one shot back in to the man’s chest.

Later, when Missy had finally fallen into a troubled sleep, the Sheriff confided in us that the house had been plastered with pornographic pictures and had been set up for shooting a movie. I closed my eyes and thanked God Missy had been lucky and smart enough to get away.

Now, a year later, Steve and I are still overly protective. We are trying to adopt a child. We are planning to adopt more after this one. Who knows? Maybe we can save a child from going through what Missy did. We might be over protective, but for us that is the only way to be.

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