Chapter 44
She woke me with a gentle slap on the cheek, he carried me out of the car and held me up so I could pee. I watched the urine hit the sand and drain instantly. She opened wet wipes and after a few minutes of straining, wiped me off. Pulled up my shorts and sat me in the Jeep.
“Thirsty?”
“Where’s the Colonel?”
“At the ranch.”
“Where are we going?”
“You’re full of questions.”
“Well, I’d like to know what my life expectancy is, Witch Doctor. I might want to write my autobiography. It’d be nice to know how many pages I need. Minutes? Hours?”
“If I was going to off you, Danny,” he said irritably. “I would’ve done it at the ranch. There’s a nice graveyard outback.”
I shut up. He got back in and continued. The sand became gravel, gravel turned to caliche and paved roads. Signs pointing to Mexico City. My eyes widened, but I kept silent.
He drove through town and let her off in the barrio. She kissed me, held my ears and patted my face. Said Bueno Suerta in gurgles that I barely understood. He drove off and left her standing there, waving back at me. We drove to the airport. He parked in front of the terminals by the taxis and pulled the wheelchair out of the back, opened it and carried me to it. He gave me a handful of pesos tucking them into my waistband. I stared at him with wondering eyes.
“Dammit,” he said roughly. “Get the hell out of here.” I spun my chair around and pushed for all I was worth heading inside the terminal. Looking around, I tried to find some sign of American help. Saw the red, white and blue of immigration and headed for it, my mouth dry and my insides churning.
The woman behind the counter had weary eyes and stared at me. “Can I help you?” She asked in Spanish.
I broke down sobbing. She came around the counter with a man in uniform and knelt at my side. “It’ll be all right,” she murmured in Spanish and I heaved for breath finally getting words out she could understand.
“I’m American,” I sobbed. “American! I was kidnapped! Please, help me get home.”
“What’s your name, honey?” She switched to English.
“Danny. Danny De Rosier. My Dad is Senator Michael Patrick De Rosier. My Social Security number is 639 – 52 – 8291. His phone number is 222 – 555 – 1505.”
“Who kidnapped you? How did you get here? Do you need medical attention?”
“Yes. Please, call my Dad. He thinks I’m dead.” I grabbed her hands. “I’m not lying. Please, please. Help me please.”
She regarded me from dark brown eyes and something in my desperation got through. She handed me a cell phone. With trembling fingers, I dialed. Heard the call go through and my Dad’s infinitely weary, sad voice say, “hello? Who is this? I don’t know anyone from Mexico City.”
“Dad? It’s me,” I shouted. There was dead silence. “Dad, don’t hang up. Listen, when I was five years old, you and mom brought me a bow and arrow set. I still have it. My Nook has five hundred and sixty-seven books in it. One of them was Unbroken. Dad, I’m me. I’m broken. Come get me, please.” I was crying again and dropped the phone.
The lady caught it. Spoke. “Yes, Sir. About late teens. One blue and one brown eye. In a wheelchair. Very thin, unhealthy. Gray and sunburned. Said his social is 639 – 52 – 8291. Danny De Rosier. He wants to know your name.”
“Dantan Townsley De Rosier. Felice calls me Downtown,” I cried. I couldn’t stop crying.
“Mexico City, Senator. Yes, Sir. I will call the Embassy and have them send a car and Marines, arrange for medical attention. Yes, Sir. At once, Sir.” She pushed END and dialed another number. Twenty minutes later, four big Marines in BDUs and a senior Attaché from the American Embassy were lifting me gently and carefully into a big black Denali. I didn’t relax until we were behind the gated compound inside the Embassy walls.
I collapsed in complete exhaustion and slept through the medical exam, dinner and didn’t wake up until the next morning. When I opened my eyes, my Dad stood there next to the doctor with the rest of my loved ones. Felice, Ms. Penny and Mitch.
I poked myself. Made sure I was awake. Said, “I want to go home.” Burst into tears and didn’t care. Was hugged so hard I thought I would break. On the way to the airport, told them everything I could remember. Told them I thought my one captor had killed the Colonel and let me go.
Told Dad when we reach Dulles to bring me home. To my bedroom, to our house and not back to my self-imposed prison at the White House.
He put me to bed and Felice came with me. In fact, every one of them stayed with me, so that every time I opened my eyes, they were there. I knew that they would always be there for me, that I was never alone.
Tentatively, I opened my mind to Felice and she drew me in without fear, fire, or contact from him. When I searched for his traces, I found none. Curled up inside my love and my family and was finally free.
The End