Held by Edeet Ravel Read Free Book Online Page B

reality. It was easy to get drawn into his casual style, his informal conversation. Easy to slip into semi-denial and pretend that we were friends, because that was so much more bearable than the truth. I felt cold suddenly, and I shivered. A month! How would I survive?
    “Will you extend it if you don’t get your prisoner back by then?” I asked.
    “Yes.”
    “You’re in charge of my life now.”
    I waited for him to sip the wine before I drank from my glass. “You’re my food taster,” I said. “This way I know it’s not spiked.”
    “I’m sorry you’re having all these fears,” he said.
    “Not sorry enough,” I mumbled.
    He tilted his head, and I felt again that he was amused.
    When he’d finished eating, he washed his dishes in the bathroom sink and carried them back to the table. He said, “I brought you a hot plate in case you want tea. It needs to be unplugged when you’re not using it.”
    “Thank you,” I said without thinking and immediately felt stupid. Why was I thanking my jailer? But he seemed not to have heard and I wondered whether I’d actually spoken or just thought I had.
    He reached into one of the plastic bags, pulled out a large piece of black cloth, and slung it over the saloon doors. It reached the floor, and I wondered whether he was trying to provide me with more privacy. But I was on the wrong track. He took a camera out of his pocket—my camera.
    “I need a photo of you, please. If you could sit in front of the door.”
    “And if I refuse?” I asked, just to see what he’d say.
    “No pizza.”
    This time his flippancy made me angry. It was as if he thought this was all some sort of game. As if he had no idea how much suffering he was causing my mom and grandparents, or how much he’d terrified me. A huge wave of hatred came over me, and I wanted to punch him. I forced myself not to give in to my fury. I sat cross-legged on the floor, with the black cloth behind me.
    “Just sit up a little, please, maybe on your knees—you’re too low.”
    Trying to control my voice, I asked, “Is this photo for the newspapers?”
    “Yes.”
    “Can you take a few, so I can choose the best one?” I didn’t want him to send out a photo that looked too sad. I wanted Mom to know that I was all right, and I did my best to smile into the camera.
    “Don’t smile, please.”
    Not being allowed to smile made me even angrier, if that was possible. I took a deep breath, shut my eyes for a second, and concentrated on the message I wanted to send Mom and my friends. I wanted to say so much through the photo—tell Mom I loved her, tell everyone not to worry.
    He took five shots and handed me the camera. I looked at all the photos and chose the one that seemed least frightened. I had tried not to look scared at all, but I didn’t succeed.
    “I’m probably the first kidnapped person in history who got to choose her photo,” I said.
    “While I’m gone, you can make a list of things you need. Is there anything urgent, before I go?”
    The thought of being left alone again was suddenly frightening. “Don’t go yet. I don’t like being alone here.”
    He considered for a moment. Then he said, “I’ll return in a minute.”
    He undid the combination lock and stepped out. He shut the door, but I noticed that he didn’t lock it. I could hardly believe it—this was my chance. I hadn’t had to plan it at all.



CHAPTER 7
    I threw my body against the door and began to run. There was a tall aluminum fence on my right and a forest straight ahead, only twenty feet or so from the door. I dashed toward it and began weaving as fast as I could through the trees.
    I heard the man running behind me. The ground was uneven and branches kept getting in my way and slowing me down. I hadn’t gone very far when he grabbed my arm.
    I tried to kick him, but he moved aside in time. I tried again, this time using my arms as well. To my disappointment, he knew as much karate as I did, probably more. And he