Never Knowing

I stepped into the camper. “Ally?”

When I peered under the table her big green eyes gazed up at me. Her mouth had a bandanna tied over it and so did her wrists. She threw herself into my arms with muffled whimpers.

“Oh, my God! You gagged her.” My fingers fought with the knot at the back of her head.

“I made sure she could breathe — I told you, she wouldn’t stop screaming.”

I had the bandanna off, but Ally was almost hyperventilating. I forced myself to keep my voice calm.

“Ally, take deep breaths. It’s okay, I’m going to undo your hands, everything’s fine. Just do what Mommy says, okay?”

She was still gasping while I wrestled with the knot on her wrists. I had to calm her down. Then I remembered a game I used to play with her when she was younger and her attention span was even worse.

“Remember wiz-a-boo, sweetie?” Ally’s body stilled.

John said, “What’s that? What are you telling her?”

“It’s just a word that means we can trust someone because they’re a friend.” It actually meant to pay very careful attention to Mommy because the fairies were listening. If she was a good girl, they left little presents for her around the house — glass flowers, tiny bells, little crystal shoes. She soon caught on that it was me leaving the trinkets, but I hoped she understood what I was trying to tell her now — she had to listen to me.

She lifted her head and looked into my face with tear-filled eyes.

“The man cut my hair and he tied my hands and put me in here and—”

John said, “I didn’t want you to hurt yourself.” I glanced out. He was pacing at the back of the camper. “Tell her! Tell her who I am.”

I took a deep breath. “Remember when Mommy told you she was adopted? Well, this is your grandfather.”

She stared at me and her voice quivered as she said, “He is not!”

“Yes, he is, Ally, he’s my real father. Mommy has two dads, like you. But I didn’t know about him until recently. He wants to get to know you, but he just did it the wrong way and he’s sorry he scared you.”

John said, “It’s true, Ally. I’m sorry.”

Ally was sobbing. “He hurt my hands.” She buried her face in the crook of my neck. Her body shook against mine. I wanted to kill John.

“He didn’t mean to, honey. Did you, John?”

“No, no, of course not! I tried not to tie them tight, but she was squirming.”

“See? He’s really sorry. He has a new chair outside just for you. Let’s go see it, okay?”

John said, “It’s a Barbie chair, but I didn’t know which one you like — I bought the blond one. I didn’t know you had dark hair.”

He sounded concerned, so I said, “The blond one is Ally’s favorite.” Ally’s head popped up and her mouth started to open. I quickly gave her a smile and a wink. Please, please, please.

Ally paused for just a moment. “She’s the prettiest.”

I gave her a big smile. “Yes, she is.”

I glanced at the door to see if John was buying it. He clutched at his heart.

“Phew. I spent hours trying to get the right one.” He motioned with his hand. “Come out so we can sit by the fire and talk.”

I stood up and took Ally’s hand. I glanced around the camper for any possible weapons, but there were only plastic shakers on the table. Ally let me lead her to the door. I jumped out first and spun around to lift her out, but when I tried to set her down she clung to my neck. I carried her over to the fire, where John was fussing with the chairs. He moved one closer, then put it back, then moved it closer again. I stood and waited with Ally’s face buried in my neck.

Finally I said, “That’s good.”

He stepped back. “All right, then. But let me know if you get too hot — we can move them wherever you want.”

As I sat down — Ally still wrapped around me — John threw a couple of logs on the fire. Then he sat in his chair, but his body was tense. He scratched the side of his head and gave me that awkward smile again as his eyes slid past mine.

“You want some lunch? Kids are always hungry.” He stood. “I’ve got some moose sausages in the cooler.”

Ally’s voice was panicky. “I don’t want to eat Moose.”

“He doesn’t mean our Moose, Ally.”

John laughed. “I got a big yearling this spring and had most of it made into sausages and hamburger.” He walked toward the camper. “Meat melts in your mouth — doesn’t taste gamey at all.” As Ally made a face, I shook my head and brought my finger to my lips.

“Sounds delicious,” I said to John’s back.

John reached for a blue cooler under the camper. While he was busy I looked around, but there was nothing I could grab. I eyed a couple of blocks of wood and wondered if I could knock him out with one, but they were big and I wouldn’t be able to lift one quickly, which meant I’d lose the element of surprise. Maybe later when he was sleeping? The thought of spending the night with him sent a new wave of terror through my body.

John set a package of sausages on the table and a carton of eggs, then stepped back into the trailer. My blood surged with adrenaline as he banged around, and my muscles tensed — every cell in my body saying, Run! But I stopped myself. Even though I hadn’t seen his guns yet, I knew he had them. And carrying a six-year-old, I needed a big head start — Ally wasn’t fast enough running on her own. Biding my time and trying to talk my way out of this was still my best chance of escape.

John emerged from the trailer with a handful of condiments, set them on the table, then went back in and came out with some plastic glasses and plates.

“Aren’t you going to try your chair, Ally?” He was setting the table.

She turned and glared at him. “No.”

He frowned and set the last plate down, then rested his big hands on the table. Anxiety hummed in my chest and I held Ally tighter.

John said, “I thought you said you liked it.”

Ally’s mouth opened, and I quickly said, “She does — she’s just scared of wrecking it. But you won’t be mad at her if she does, right, John?”

John laughed. “For breaking a chair? Of course not!”

Ally stared at me. I smiled and said, “See, it’s okay. You can sit in it.” With my chin tilted down so her head blocked my lips from John’s view, I mouthed, Go, now.

She eased off my lap and with one eye on John pulled the chair close to me and clutched my hand. I tried to give her a reassuring smile, but she was watching John. I noticed tear tracks on her face and felt sick. She must be so confused. Here was a man who hurt her, and now I was telling her to do what he said.

John had everything out on the tables — salt, pepper, butter, syrup, bread. He moved the plates around a couple of times, lining up everything just right, then looked at me.

“I got the plates yesterday, but I didn’t know what color…”

“The green’s pretty. Thanks.”

“Yeah?” His face lit up.

I nodded and prayed he’d be stupid enough to give me a knife, but he didn’t lay any cutlery on the table. Instead he set a metal rack in the middle of the fire, then got a cast-iron frying pan from the camper and put it on the rack. “I can’t wait to show you the ranch I bought for us to live on,” he said as he arranged sausage links in the pan.

Ally said, “I don’t want to live at a ranch.”

I shot her a warning look. John used a plastic spatula to move the sausages around, then set a smaller frying pan down beside it and cracked some eggs into it.

“Hope scrambled is okay?” The awkward smile again. He looked at Ally. “I have chickens at the ranch, so we’ll have fresh eggs every day. I’ll show you how to collect them. Place came with a couple of cows, so we can