EXCERPT:
I
|
t was 1984 and people were doing
crazy things to other people in the name of one thing or another, and Dabbie
Hodson could see it clearly. She had but seconds to live. And just because she
had been in the wrong place at the wrong time.
She was helpless to do anything about
it, but her eyes would be her weapon. They would remain open, probing,
pleading, rebelling.
“I really don’t know that much.” She
repeated this over and over, but seemingly on deaf ears, until she realized the
terrible choice of words she had used. That much? What was that supposed to
mean? How was he to take such a thing?
She knew something of Munich, of
course, and of Berlin, but not that much about what was being planned for Saudi
Arabia, but she really only knew bits and pieces, not enough to be killed for.
What threat could she pose? The little bits and pieces added up to such a
fragmented picture of the thing.
He stopped. He looked at her, and his
face was kind. Her twenty-one-year-old face was truly beautiful. “Shhh,” he
said. He gently stroked her hair, her cheek. “It won’t hurt a bit. I give you
my word on that.” He even smiled. He had terribly white teeth and boyish long
hair.
She struggled harder, though she knew
it was only wasted energy on her part. She was held securely. Duct tape and
rope had seen to that. All she could do was resign herself to her fate. There
was absolutely no reasoning with this man. She had already tried everything,
but she had failed miserably each and every time.
But she was determined. She would go
with her eyes open, despite whatever might come. She would see it all just as
it happened. She would look him squarely in the eyes, force him to see that she
saw, her only real weapon.
He went to work. He was meticulous.
Dabbie couldn’t tell exactly what he was doing, but she knew very well what the
end result would be. If only she had stayed back home. If only she had not come
to Europe. If only she had not stumbled into all of this. If only she had not
met Gus.
Gus began to hum to himself as he
worked. His hands never stopped. Dabbie tried to tilt her head, to get a better
look, but she couldn’t budge. She had to content herself with seeing his
profile, with listening to his humming, with knowing that her eyes would be
filled with defiance when the time came.
The Munich all around her was
bustling with activity. She could hear it from all directions. Munich was a
wonderful city, a fun-loving place, the live and let live ebullience of the
city emanating from its every nook and cranny. She had had a lovely stay here.
All of it had been so adventurous, so new, so unlike life back home in Arizona.
She could vividly recall the first time she had ventured into a Munich beer
garden, where the liter mugs had been so huge that she had had to lift hers
with both hands, and the giggles, from him, until he too had had to use both
hands.
The fumbling noises he had been
making came to an abrupt halt. He began stroking her cheek again. Gus looked so
happy, so young, so full of life. It was so hard to imagine that he could be so
heavily involved in all this horror.
Gus smiled at her once more. His eyes
were soft, so gentle, so caring, so loving.
Maybe this was some kind of huge
mistake. Maybe he wasn’t going to kill her after all. Maybe everything would
turn out happily ever after. Maybe. Maybe. Maybe.
But then suddenly she saw it clearly.
It was no fairy tale. There would be no maybe. This was real, as real as the
mixture of sadness and fear that now flooded her brain.
And then she died, with her eyes wide
open, challenging, piercing his to the end.
Buy links:
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I am delighted to see my "little one" featured here today. I must admit that I was sad the day he left to live life on his own, but I am happy that he has found a nice home beside his siblings at both Amazon and Barnes and Noble.
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