Before I start, let me warn you that this is a series and I am still not sure how long it will be or where it is going. The first chapter was inspired by the film The 355.
Eight Days Ago
“Okay, class, it’s time to line up. Who wants to be line leader today?” Ms. Hannah Thompson asked with the kind of smile that only kindergarten teachers are capable of conjuring.
Hands shot into the air across the room.
“That’s a lot of you!”
She scanned the room looking for which student might be the best leader to the music classroom. Hayley, the one she could usually count on for this task, had a dentist’s appointment today, so Ms. Thompson had to look harder than usual.
“Braxton,” she called on the boy with pink in his hair who was practically jumping out of his chair.
Braxton raced to the classroom door and seemed to be resisting the urge to bounce up and down. Ms. Thompson suspected he had untreated ADHD, but she liked working with him. Mrs. Reyes, the music teacher, liked him too, but the other teachers tended to think he was ‘out of control’ and ‘misbehaved.’ Seldom did Ms. Thompson or Mrs. Reyes have complaints about his behavior. When they had their “Fine Wine Fridays” they often discussed new strategies for helping him and other students like him.
The rest of the children lined up behind Braxton with nearly equal impatience. Ms. Thompson peaked out into the hall to see Mrs. Reyes rushing toward them. School policy was that there had to be at least two adults with the children while in the hall. A few years ago, Ms. Thompson’s predecessor, Mr. McMahan, had a heart attack while taking the children to recess. The children were terrified as he screamed at them to get a new teacher. Mrs. Reyes’ predecessor had heard the chaos in the hall and went to inspect. At that point, Mr. McMahan was nearly dead and the damage was done.
This was a small school in rural Michigan where the high schoolers went to the same school as the elementary students and the teachers had worked long past their prime. The principal was thrilled when the school board permanently hired the 26-year-old Ms. Thompson as a kindergarten teacher. When the traumatized music teacher quit in a huff after an incident with chest pains and another teacher, the 30-year-old Mrs. Reyes came on board. It was nearly six months after her start day and Ms. Thompson was thrilled to work with someone her own age.
The older teachers felt like Ms. Thompson was “too modern” for their small town.
Ms. Thompson felt the older teachers were well past their expiration dates.
Mrs. Reyes and Ms. Thompson walked the line of children to the music classroom. Ms. Thompson said good-bye and headed back down the hall to get ready for the rest of today’s activities.
Her phone beeped to let her know there was an email waiting for her. She was looking down at it when she ran into someone.
“Op. I’m so sorry!” she said, helping the man pick up the mop she’d knocked over.
She hadn’t seen him before, but the uniform and cleaning supplies indicated he was a new janitor. He looked close to her age and he was incredibly handsome. She sighed as a twinge in her heart made her miss Jonas.
You’re glad he’s gone, she reminded herself. He wasn’t right for you.
“I should’ve been paying more attention,” he replied in a voice as deep as the Marianas Trench, drawing her attention to his smile. “Wow, I didn’t expect to see someone so young and beautiful working here.”
“Here,” she whispered.
She was stunned to near silence by his blue eyes and strong jaw. Just looking at him stirred something in her and she found herself lost in her imagination of what it might feel like to be with him. She pictured him being more giving in bed than Jonas.
And in life.
She imagined this stranger holding her hand like Sebastian’s wife had at the hospital while they waited for Dad to come out of his surgery instead of sitting alone like she had.
She pictured the janitor rubbing her back at the funeral like Olivia’s husband had.
She began to daydream about the way—
“Can I take you to dinner?” he asked.
“What?” she asked, confused.
“I’d like to take you to dinner.”
“I’m sorry, no. There’s a no dating policy,” she replied. “Have a nice day, Mr…?”
“Hudson.”
“Have a nice day, Mr. Hudson.”
“You too, Ms. Thompson.”
She walked away, confused by how he knew her name. Something about his forwardness bothered her. She tried to blame it on her instant attraction to him because that was what she’d had with Jonas.
Love at first sight.
She snorted at the thought. Jonas had been ghosting her since Dad was in the hospital. She blamed it on Jonas’ inability to emotionally connect when it came to pain. She had liked his aloofness until it meant being alone at Dad’s funeral.
She missed Dad.
And in the weeks since Dad’s death, Mom had come to blame her for it. So Mom wasn’t speaking to her. Her brother and sister, Bash and Olivia, took Mom’s side and had all but cut contact too. None of them dealt with pain well.
She figured that was why she let Jonas’ flaws slide in that department. Once she let that slide, it was easy to let other things go too. That and Mom’s constant pressure to ‘just settle’ were what kept Jonas around for so long.
Jonas was a good settle.
Or so she thought. Then he disappeared.
Her watch beeped at her to remind her to go to Mrs, Reyes’ room and pick up her kindergarteners. On the return to Ms. Thompson’s classroom, they passed the janitor again.
He waved and gave them a kind nod.
“Class, tell Mr. Hudson thank you for cleaning our school,” Ms. Thompson said.
There was a chorus of thanks from the children.
“Have a good day, kids,” Mr. Hudson said.
Ms. Thompson and Mrs. Reyes prodded the children along.
“And you have a wonderful day, Ms. Thompson,” he added.
Ms. Thompson and Mrs. Reyes shared a look where Mrs. Reyes seemed to be urging Ms. Thompson to pursue a relationship with Mr. Hudson.
Mr. Hudson gave her a charming smile and she smiled back, resolving that if he asked her to dinner again, she’d say yes. After all, she could have dinner with a colleague. She did it with Mrs. Reyes every Friday after the basketball games or football games for their “Fine Wine Fridays,” depending on the time of year.
They got back to the room and bid Mrs. Reyes farewell before getting back to class. The rest of the day was entirely uneventful. Ms. Thompson loved teaching kindergarten because she loved how creative she got to be with her class most of the time.
She was taking inventory for next week’s lesson plans when she realized she might need some supplies for Thursday. She was finishing her list of supplies when a hesitant knock at her classroom door startled her.
“It's unlocked,” she called.
She assumed it was the handsome janitor and he was there to empty the trash and vacuum the floor.
“Hello, Ms. Thompson,” he said with a timid wave.
“Hi, Mr. Hudson. I’m just finishing up here.”
“No rush,” he said.
Mr. Hudson had emptied the last trashcan and was getting the vacuum ready near the door where the plug was located. Ms. Thompson finished counting supplies, snatched a stack of papers to grade, and grabbed her bag as she made her way to the door.
Mr. Hudson stopped her.
“Everything alright?” she asked.
“You’re coming with me.”
“No, I’m not. I’m going home.”
“Listen.” He pulled a distinctly gun-shaped vacuum bag and pressed it against her ribcage as he spoke. “I really do like you, but you’re coming with me.”
Her heart sank into the pit of her stomach and a chill ran down her spine. She nodded, putting her hands up in surrender.
“Don’t try to run and don’t try to scream.”
Everything went dark as a black bag was pulled over her head. Mr. Hudson grabbed her arm too hard and nearly dragged her down the familiar hallway. She had walked it so many times that she knew where they were headed without seeing it. They headed out the rear door toward the playground and the long way to the teacher's lot. She knew that the likelihood of being seen and saved was slim.
The darkness of the bag made her feel somewhat dizzy, but the brightness of a rare sunny day in Northern Michigan helped her orient herself through the weave of the fabric. He pulled her elbow and they moved to the left which meant they were headed toward the teacher's parking lot.
She began to accept her fate as they walked toward the rear of the building. She took a deep breath, trying to prepare for whatever cult she was about to be forced into. Her overactive imagination put images of her seducing Mr. Hudson so that he would help her escape.
The sliding of a vehicle door sent a surge of adrenaline racing through her veins and cleared her mind which caused her muscles to tense. Sadly, when it came to fight or flight, Ms. Hannah Thompson had a penchant for freezing. Every limb went stiff as two sets of thick hands hauled her into what she could only assume was a van.
Inside, she was forced into a seat and the bag was ripped from her head. Her cropped hair fell immediately into place in a way that would make many jealous. That was a bonus of having wavy hair in the humidity of where she lived. Her eyes quickly adjusted to the dim light of the van which had blacked-out windows and two rows of seats that faced each other. Directly across from her was Jonas.
She glared at him.
“Hi, hun,” he said with his crooked smile and a tilt of his head.
“Screw you.”
“What a way to greet the love of your life,” he chuckled.
She uncomfortably folded her arms over her large chest and glared silently at him, knowing that whatever she said next, he would make her regret it. She was at a clear disadvantage.
“I just have to get something out of the way,” he said
“What would that be?”
“In case you hadn’t figured it out already, we’re over.”
Hannah wasn’t sure what came over her, but the next thing she knew, Jonas had a bloody nose through which he was screeching, “Restrain her! Fucking restrain that vile bitch!”
The large men that sat on either side of her pulled her arms behind her back and placed metal handcuffs on her wrists. She sat back up, trying to remember how escape artists got out of handcuffs. Not that she could go anywhere if she managed to get free.
She struggled against the cuffs.
"This is why I've always told you to keep a handcuff key on hand," he laughed. "You thought it was just for sex, didn't you?"
"Screw you."
“Anyway, this isn’t about us,” he said.
“It's about your dad.”
END OF CHAPTER 2
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