Profile: Bill Hill

Let me let this sink in for a moment: I've known Bill Hill for twenty-five years now. Twenty-five. That hardly seems possible. Where do I begin with this profile?

Bill has been around me for a long time and during this period has seemingly reinvented himself over and over again. He has always been a good guy, but over the years he has become someone that I admire beyond most people.

First off, my dad, Jerry is a good person who I look up to. I'll get to his profile later, but I say this because I think it is important to point out that while my parents were divorced and I only saw my dad every other weekend growing up, he did everything he could to raise me in our limited time together. That said, Bill stepped in, particularing in my later years (high school and beyond) and taught me how to be a man. An incredible amount of credit should go to him for that. While he faced a great deal of his own issues, Bill has always presented to me a figure who could be emulated. He has always been someone who treated other people the way they deserved to be treated, and that is with respect until they prove themself otherwise.

Bill has always been fairly quiet, usually taking a secondary role to my mom, but he does so with purpose. When he does speak he does so with a wisdom born from a difficult life with a world of experience. I treasure his conversations and his words to me have always held a tremendous value.

I met Bill when I was 14 years old, just moving back to Jackson from Texas. I had no idea who the guy my mom was with was, but he was easy to like from the get go. He was full of adventurous stories and I fed off of what he had to say. We was a man that seemed to have been born from the earth and introduced me to experiences that I doubt I would have had an opportunity to enjoy. I remember going out mushroom hunting on cool spring mornings and the taste of them later in the day when he would fry them up. I remember how cool and calm he remained when I cut my throat open on a barbed wire fence while riding a bicycle. He told me later on that he was very worried that I had cut my juglar vein, but even through that he displayed a calmness that serves as an example to me even today. I remember him coming to pick me at school and him and my mom telling me that my dog Jackson had been killed by a car. I know that it hurt him to tell me, that it hurt him to take care of Jackson's remains before I got home, but he has always been a stoic figure that would offer any support he ever could and never let emotion get the best of him. That is he never would except once...

I have a lot of things to be proud of in my life. I've done well for myself. I've got a great family, beautiful children. But the day I was able to bring Tammy and Bill together after such a long time stands out as one of the best things I've ever been able to do for another person.

I was in Junior Acheivement while a freshman at Western H.S. Each week I would go down to the JA building on Mechanic St. in downtown Jackson for weekly meetings. Bill and Mom would always take me down there and typically both would come to pick me up. In J.A. you sell stock to get seed money for a company that each group created. With this money you would buy materials, build a product and sell it with the profits getting returned to the stock holders at the end of the year.

My first year I had 5 stock certificates to sell and sold one of them to Bill. It just so happens that Bill's daughter, Tammy was one of the officers in our company and saw Bill's name on the stock. She hadn't seen her dad in Lord knows how long, eight years maybe? Anyway, she asked me if I saw Bill very often and I told her that he was picking me up that night. I told Tammy that I would happily introduce her to him later that night.

When our meeting was over Tammy and I went outside and I told Bill I wanted to introduce him to someone. He got out of the car and I simply told him, "Bill, this is your daughter Tammy." I remember how he immediately hugged her and just held on to her crying. It was the first time I saw such an incredible amount of emotion from him. It also showed me that a father's love for his child never wanes, that regardless of distance, or time, it is always there. I remember feeling so jubilant that day. Even today I remember that night and rejoice in the fact that I was in the right place at the right time. I can't say that I learned this just from him, as my mom has had a huge say in how I treat my kids, but I will say that he has provided reason for me to tell my kids I love them everyday, to show them affection that they will grow with and take with them into adulthood.

Bill has made plenty of mistakes through his life, but with those mistakes have come lessons that I have learned. I know how addiction can take you over and how much fight it takes to overcome it. I have learned that when things get bad, you never, ever give up. Bill has had terrible accidents which he has come back from. He has faced financial issues that would buckle the willpower of other men. He has been afflicted with cancer, and even when he stood on death's door he fought it and came back from it. I have no doubt that Bill Hill is by far the strongest man I have ever had the pleasure to have known.

While I have learned a lot from him, there is one thing about Bill that I value more than anything. I value the companionship is has brought my mom. My mom is a very strong person, I think she has proved that when I was just a little kid. Yet my mom is a person that needs, no, deserves a compliment to her. Bill is that compliment. I learned that in Bill my mom has found a perfect match. God paired my mom with Bill there is no doubt in my mind. The diversity that each of them has had to face is testament to this fact, yet through all the turmoil, all the difficulty both have endured, they have found one another and found a love that serves as an example to all couples. They don't have a story like Romeo and Juliet, yet their love is a epic as any found in literature. They are a matched pair that fit perfectly together and everytime I see them together it brings a happiness to me that I can't explain. I've seen times in my mom's life when she has been steeped in misery and the gift of companionship that Bill has given to her means so much to me.

I said in an earlier post that Brian, my brother, is my best friend, yet that friendship is born from growing up together. My friendship with Bill is so different, yet so much stronger than even that between my brother and I. Bill has done more than just offered his friendship, he took upon him a duty to help my mother raise me to be the man I am today. How could I ever think to repay him for this?

I'll finish by saying that when Bill was sick with pneumonia, not long after his cancer surgery we came up from Indiana for a summer get together. Bill was in pretty bad shape. He didn't even know that we were there, let alone know who we were. I don't think I have ever told him, or my mom this, but I went in the house while Bill was sitting in his chair. I wasn't sure if he was asleep or not, but I sat down to talk to him. I remember telling him that he needed to get better, that he needed to eat something, to stop losing weight. I remember how horrible I felt, thinking that I was talking to my friend for the last time. I felt so helpless, seeing him so sick. I remember crying as I held his hand, begging him to get better, to heal so he could be there for me. It was so selfish of me to think of myself like that. I knew that in that moment my love for Bill was as strong as that which any child could have for his father. Needless to say I thank God for what he has done, for bringing Bill back when he had been so far gone.

Bill, all I am going to say in closing is that I appreciate you beyond what even these words can convey. Thank you for everything you have done for me, you have shown me, and you have taught me. I would not have become the man I have become had it not been for you. You forever have my love and respect.

Gracie's New Kitten

We took the plunge last Friday and went over to Megan's boyfriend's house to pick out a kitten for Gracie to bring home. She has been wanting one and we figured it was time to bring a new pet into our family. We knew that there were going to be issues when Caleb told us that all of the kittens were males. Gracie was intent on adopting either a Rosie or a Princess. We told her that she would need to pick a boy's name for her kitten. After debating on Angel, Buttercup and Butterscotch we just gave up for the night and decided to try to come up with a name on Saturday.

We went over to Caleb's house and took a look at the little things. These kittens were as tiny as they come. At only seven weeks old I was a bit worried about them being too young. We were assured that they were using the litter box and eating cat chow, so we decided to take one home. Gracie found one that she liked and we brought the little thing to it's new house.

I could tell immediately that the kitten was very scared. I wanted to sit on my lap contently. In fact, while I was sitting at the computer it climbed up my bare leg, clawing it's way to my lap. It was just terrified by it's new surroundings.

I went out Friday night and bought a litter box, a thing of kitty litter, a bag of food, some toys and food and water dishes. We should be all set.

Well, to make a long story short, Whiskers, as Gracie latter named her cat, is not doing well. First off, he is suffering from a bad case of fleas. Secondly, he has not eaten a thing since he got here. I am really worried about him. He is frail and so tiny, he really needs his food. The cat continues to be afraid. His new favorite place is to climb up on my left shoulder and snuggle against my neck to sleep. It spends its nights walking the house mewing. The storm the other night also scared the poor thing.

Caleb came over tonight and is taking the kitten home with him tonight. Gracie was in tears when we told her. We decided that the kitten needed to be with it's mom a bit longer and told Gracie that after our vacation in July we will go get him and bring him home. If that doesn't work out we will go to the Humane Society and let her pick out a much older cat to bring home.

I really don't want to let him go, but I'm afraid I'm going to come home from work, or wake up in the morning and find the little thing dead. I would hate for Gracie to experience that. Hopefully with another 6 weeks the kitten will be ready to come home to us. I will keep everyone updated.

Corpse: Submission #9

This is submission #9 of my story called Corpse. It looks like I am going to have to start writing again as I am getting fairly close to a portion that I want rewritten because I'm not happy with the visualization created in the first draft. Hopefully I can get cracking on that soon. If and when I do, I think it will make the story flow much better in the future and add a lot to the book. As always comments and criticisms are welcome.

CHAPTER 3:

Jonathon decided that rather than go home he would just spend the night with Amy. He usually didn’t like to do so because it meant he had to get up extra early and head back to his apartment before heading into work. Before he knew it though, it was eleven o’clock and with a forty-five minute drive back to his place, it was easier just to give in to his rare moment of laziness and stay the night.

As always, Amy was ecstatic. She loved when he stayed over because she loved to pretend that they were already married and that “this is how life will be like once we are together forever,” she would swoon.

Jonathon took it in stride. “Let her believe what she wants,” he thought. “It isn’t going to be all fairy tales and wonderful times.” She had no idea that he had no intention of changing the way he currently did things. As he had told his brother over beers one night when the Josh had accused him of being under her thumb once they tied the knot, “No way man, there is nothing to worry about. This just means that my consistent stickin’ is a lot closer than Ann Arbor.”

When the alarm went off at 5:00am, he made her hit snooze twice before he rolled the sheets back and sat up. It was way too early, but he had to get to work.

Jonathon stood up and slipped his jeans on as Amy rolled over. “Why don’t you get a shower here,” she asked him, “maybe I’ll give you some company, you know, wash your back, and stuff…” she trailed as she gave him a little wink.

“Knock it off Amy,” he snapped at her. “This is what I’m always talking about. Every time I stay over you play like this is a slumber party or something. I have to get to work, you know that. I can’t be screwing around. When are you going to grow up and realize that I have commitments besides you that I have to deal with?”

She looked flabbergasted. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean anything by it. I just thought maybe we could have a few minutes together before you left.”

“You had your few minutes with me last night,” he growled. “I canceled my plans so I could be with you. If that isn’t enough then you better rethink the sacrifices we both need to make so that this relationship can work. I’ve given a lot of myself so I can make you happy, so you better start thinking about that.”

“I’m sorry, you’re right. It’s just that I love being around you all the time. I just want to make you happy.” She looked up from her pillow, her eyes tearing, “I just want to be married to you so bad. It is all I can think about. I know it will be so wonderful. We’ll be so happy together. I wish June would get here sooner.”

Jonathon rolled his eyes, “Well, this is November and I’m not about to throw my job away because you want to play house with me. Right now, I have to get back to my apartment and get ready for work. I’ll see you on Saturday.”

With that he walked out of the bedroom, muttering under his breath. “I never should have stayed last night,” he said to himself. “I knew this was going to happen.”

Without much fault Jonathon slipped on his loafers, grabbed his jacket off of the coat rack by the door and walked out the door, leaving Amy alone in her bedroom crying in the bedroom.

It was cold outside, and the result was a nice layer of frost on the windshield of the Crossfire. Jonathon slid into the driver’s seat, turned on the car and flipped on the defrost. He flipped open the glove box and found that the scraper wasn’t in there. “This whole staying the night is turning into a real pain in the ass,” he thought.

Getting back out he walked over to Amy’s car to get her scraper only to find the car locked. “There’s no way I’m going back in there and dealing with her again,” he muttered under his breath.

Climbing back into the car Jonathon just sat there in the dark looking at the illuminated dash, waiting for the warmth to kick in and his dashboard to clear.

It took about three minutes for him to get impatient. The defroster had just started to work and two small half moons of clean windshield slowly grew from the dash. Jonathon flipped on the windshield wipers, hoping they would help clear the glass faster, but it was to no avail, they simply swooshed back and forth with no effect.

“It will clear soon enough,” he said aloud, “I don’t have time to just sit here.”

Megan Officially a Cardinal!

Friday Megan got a large envelope in the mail from Ball State University. When she opened it, she let out a very loud scream. She had been accepted into Ball State. This comes after a very good freshman year at IPFW where she got very decent grades.

Megan had tried to get into Ball St. when she graduated high school. There really was no other college she wanted to go to. After seeing the campus with her last May, I have to say that I too am happy with her choice.

Ball State isn't a giant college, like some of the Big Ten schools, but is definitely bigger than Adrian. With 12,000 students it is much bigger, but with a compact campus, seems much smaller than what it is. It is in the same athletic conference as Central Michigan and is very comparable.

Megan will still be classified as a freshman when she heads down there in the fall because she still has only 23 credit hours under her belt. She had dropped an anatomy course earlier this semester in order to ensure her GPA would be high enough to get into BSU.

Megan will be living on campus in the fall, and already has a room mate. While at IPFW she met a girl named Kendra who also wanted to transfer to BSU as soon as her grades were at a level necessary for acceptance. Kendra is a real nice girl and should make for a good room mate for Megan. I also think that both of them will work hard seeing as their route to getting in was a bit more difficult than the other students on campus.

Megan isn't sure right now of the major she will be pursuing. She initially thought about going into Speech Pathology but has since been scared off by the hard science requirements of that field. She has talked about getting into some form of travel and tourism which I will encourage especially if she can parlay it into some kind of free vacation for Angie and I (that's a joke people).

I am very proud of Megan for this accomplsihment. First off, I am surprised she has taken college as seriously as she has. She has done a wonderful job balancing work, school and her relationship with her boyfriend and has made each of them work for her. Secondly, she is taking a huge step here. I was afraid when she and Caleb got serious that she would think with her heart and not her head. I was afraid she wouldn't give herself the opportunity to really experience college the way I did when I was her age. That said, she has told me that nothing can keep her from going away in the fall, not even Caleb. He is not thrilled about her going away, but knows that Muncie isn't that far away from Fort Wayne. I really respect Caleb for not pressuring her to stay here and if things work out for them and they are together through her college years, then I am completely happy with that. He is a good kid.

At home this should change things up a bit. We won't be able to rely on Megan anymore to watch the kids when we need it. Then again, we don't ask much of her right now, so that might not be too horrible. We will gain a bedroom which we can move Balin in to, at least for when Megan isn't home. I don't necessarily want to room to go unused, so we'll have to come up with a way we can convert it back into a place where she can stay when she is home.

Needless to say, those are some things we are looking forward to dealing with. I'm just happy that she gets the chance to go away to college. I still contend that my four years at Adrian were the very best years of my life. I hope in twenty years Megan will be able to say the same.

Profile: Mike Kapp

This is the third is a continuing series of profiles of friends and family who I feel have had a significant impact on my life. This time I'll be taking a look at my cousin, Michael Kapp.

I really don't know what it is about my cousin Mike that has made him such an important person in my development. We were never particularly close. We weren't necessarily close in age and we lived far enough apart that I really didn't get much of a chance to see him that often. That said, he is still incredibly influencial and holds a great deal of significance to me.

I'm not sure how much older than me Michael is. If I had to guess I would say he is likely 8 to 10 years my elder. I remember for a very short time staying with my Aunt Mary up in Lansing when I was young. My mom was sick and in the hospital and my aunt had offered to watch my brothers and I while she recovered. Michael became a good friend to me then. I don't understand why, I was just a little kid. He wasn't necessarily into the toys that at that particular age I was interested in, yet I vaguely remember sitting on the floor of his bedroom, right off the living area, looking through his book shelf. I wasn't into reading yet (as far as I can remember) but I recall one book on his shelf that had a great deal of cartoon drawings. I remember it was one of my favorite things to do, to go in to his room and sit on the floor at that bookcase thumbing through that book. He wouldn't say much, or maybe he did, I don't recall, but just being in the same room made me feel better about where I was, what I was doing there and more comfortable in those foreign surroundings. I don't know why this memory is so clear to me, or had such a lasting imprint on me, but it did.

As I grew older I watched Michael's successes. I've seen him get married to a wonderful woman who is warm and charming, easy to talk to, and always comfortable to be around. She echoes the type of person Mike is. He also has three beautiful little girls whom I know he cherishes.

I adopted Megan years ago, and by doing so I feel as if I have cemented a bond between Mike and myself, him being an adoptive parent as well. Again, I don't know why, but that makes me feel good, as if I share a fraternal bond with my cousin.

I have always looked up to Michael, envied him for the successes he has had, even attempted to emulate him. My interest in politics has no source, but of all those I have associated with, Mike, and his brother Rick seem to be the only people that come to mind when I try to associate my interest in the subject with anyone. Maybe it was the media that peeked my interest, maybe it was something entirely different, regardless he has made the subject intriguing and brought a great deal of attention to the subject for me to explore.

I'm not sure what Michael does as far as a job, but to me he is the epitome of success. He works for the State of Michigan in some capacity and to this point has been the bar to which I judge myself. This may sound hokey, but I seriously do measure my contributions to my field based simply on what I know about Mike and his career. His successes have driven me, have inspired me, and constantly remind me of how important not only my job, but my education is. Even to this day I want to continue with school, to keep going, to get that elusive masters degree, to progress forward and acheive a PhD.

Michael has always been easy for me to talk to. He has a charisma that draws me to him. I could sit there and talk all day with him about work, politics, family, travel; you name it. He is such an endearing individual. Even as a high school student Michael would treat me in a manor that made me feel much more mature than I actually was at the time. I don't think I am exaggerating when I say that he is a person that listens, he wants to hear what I have to say and he takes the time to process and react to those things, not just brush them off as worthless drivel. He makes the person he is speaking with seem important and their words valuable.

I have a lot of cousins, in fact it would be difficult to think of all of them. Mike, however is the one that immediately comes to mind when I think of all my extended family.

My greatest regret regarding my family is my inability to be closer to the ones that mean the most to me. Some would argue that Mike was one of the people I associated with the least while I was growing up. To me that is the biggest shame because even that short amount of interaction we have had, I have found a common bond with him, a bond that has helped shape who I am, given me goals to shoot for and developed a sense of what a good man, a good father and a good person I should be.

Corpse: Submission #8

The story continues...

Stephanie nodded emphatically, fear threatening to overwhelm her. Her mind raced as she considered how she could escape this monster. Before she could fabricate any plan he continued, “I will be here, watching you. If you scream out, if you even take one step in a direction other than that car, your children will be dead before you can get to a phone to call the police. By the time they get here, I will be gone, and so will your children. I think you are a smart girl Stephanie; you’ll do what you are told. I’m correct, aren’t I?”

Again Stephanie nodded knowing she was going to absolutely follow his instructions. Once he got away from Michael and Cameron she could consider escaping, but not until he was out of her house, away from her babies.

He walked her to the front door, his thick fingers gripping her elbow through leather gloves she just now noticed. “Do not run to the car, do not do anything that will call attention to yourself. I will be watching, and if I see a neighbor’s light come on, if I see a window blind open up, if I hear a dog bark, I will kill your son. You need all the luck you can muster right now Stephanie, you need to be invisible.”

He spoke so matter of factly that Stephanie could do nothing but listen and when it came time to move, she would obey, there was no doubt.

The intruder went to the picture window to the left of the front door and pulled the curtains aside, looking out. It was quiet and dark, no lights on in any of the surrounding houses. It was a good time to take her, he knew that. “It’s time to go,” was all he said as he unlatched the door and opened it for Stephanie.

“You’re doing the right thing Stephanie. Your kids are going to be all right. You are a smart girl; don’t get stupid all of a sudden.” With that he opened the door and stepped back. She reached for the handle of the screen door and the man said, “You go get in the car, I’ll be in Michael’s room.” With that he retreated through the house and down the hallway to her son’s room.

For an instant Stephanie considered going after the man, but she knew that he would get to Michael before she could get to him. She was going to have to listen to him if she was going to protect her children.

With great trepidation she opened the screen door and stepped out onto the porch stoop. Her hands shook as she closed the door, making sure it didn’t slam. It was if every sound she made was intensified. Her biggest fear right now was that a neighbor’s light would come on or some random noise would rouse the people from their sleep.

The stone of the porch was chilly on her bare feet, but she hardly noticed. Her focus was on the sedan parked down the street. Glancing side to side, to make sure no one saw her, she crept down the steps. Rather than walk along the sidewalk, Stephanie quickly cut across the grass. The lawn was dewy and cold, chilling her physically to go with the bitter cold of the terror she was current living.

After what seemed like an eternity, she finally reached the car parked unobtrusively on the side of the street. It was a dark blue Ford Taurus, just like her dad used to drive. Stephanie grabbed the handle of the passenger back seat door, just like she had been told when she ventured a glance back at her little house. From where she stood she could see the window of Michael’s room and what she saw chilled her to the bone. Standing in the window was the man, watching her as she followed his instructions. She knew that no less that two from where the man stood was her little boy, sleeping the night away as if there was nothing wrong.

“What would Michael do in the morning when he woke up,” she thought. In her mind she knew that she wouldn’t be back. She had read the news reports about the killer stalking the outskirts of Chicago and she had no doubt that this was the same man. She had already allowed herself to wonder how he had gotten into her house and frankly had no clue. It didn’t really matter anymore, he had gotten inside and he had gotten her. All she could do was go along with his plans and hope that he stayed true to his word and leave her children alone.

She opened the door to the car and was relieved when the dome light didn’t come on. She had feared that someone, somewhere in one of the homes along the street would notice her. Glancing around, she guessed that this was not the case. Getting in the backseat, she closed the backdoor, cringing as the door made the recognizable slam as she pulled it closed.

Fearing that someone heard her, she ducked down behind the seat and stayed that way for at least a minute. When she poked her head back up she saw him still standing in Michael’s window, just watching the car she was now inside.

The backseat was empty, not even a hint of dirt on the floor or seat. There were no papers on the floor, no pop cans rolling around, no nothing. This guy was meticulous. She wished she could venture to reach into the glove box, but she knew he would see her. There was nothing she could leave for the police to find that would tell them where she was.

With nothing left to do but obey the man who right now stood over her son, Stephanie Gimble opened the seat, crawled into the trunk and shut the seat behind her. With a quiet click, she sealed herself within a coffin of steel.

Corpse: Submission 7

This is submission number 7 of my story Corpse. As always, I hope you enjoy it...

Instantly he retreated to the boy’s room and waited there for her, making sure he hid himself behind the door. Shortly afterward he heard the water turn off and the woman padding down the hallway, first checking on the daughter, and then opening the door to the boy’s room.

Through the crack of the door he saw her, hair bundled up under a towel just like Janice used to wrap hers when they had been together. I took everything he had to keep from springing out and grabbing her. His patience held check and he waited as she returned to her room. After she had closed the boy’s door the killer simply stood there watching the boy sleep, a drop of cool sweat rolling down his cheek as he thought about what he was about to do to the five year old’s mother.

The first thing Stephanie noticed when she opened her eyes was the bright glow of the clock radio sitting on the stand beside her bed. It read 2:38. She gasped as she awoke because she knew something was wrong. A moment later a voice whispered in her ear, “If you make a sound I will hurt Michael…badly,” he let the last word hang so she would get a clear message. The voice sounded familiar, but she couldn’t place a face with it. He felt his hand on her shoulder and effectively holding her down against the mattress.

His grip was extremely strong, and his fingers dug into her flesh. Once again the voice spoke, “You’re going to get out of bed, and get dressed. If you do that, little Michael will be fine. I don’t want any questions, I don’t want any crying. If you try anything, if you scream, I will cut you, and then I’ll cut your kids. Do you understand?”

Stephanie could do nothing but whimper but managed to nod. She felt the hand release her shoulder and turned to look at her attacker.

“Oh no, we’ll get to know each other later,” he said, grabbing her by the hair and yanking her head back around and away from him. “You get yourself dressed or we’ll be taking a walk down to Michael’s room.”

Stephanie obeyed, reaching down to the pile of dirty clothes she had left on the floor earlier that night. Quickly she began to dress, trying desperately to stifle her sobs. She didn’t bother to change out of her night shirt; instead, she just pulled on the grungy jeans she had worn to work that day, and tucked her long t-shirt in to it.

“Don’t worry about shoes, you won’t need those,” the voice came from behind her as he watched her dress. “And don’t ask where we are going, it shouldn’t really matter to you. The only thing that you should be thinking about is ‘how am I going to keep my kids safe.’ I can answer that for you: just do what I tell you to do.”

The voice held no waiver, no remorse. It was simply dominating. She cringed every time he spoke to her, like a dog shrinking from the strike of an angry master. She knew that she was in a great deal of trouble, that she was backed in to a corner she couldn’t get out of. It was all because of her children, still sleeping thirty feet away, unaware of what was happening to their mother. She prayed that they would stay asleep; she certainly didn’t want them walking in on this horror that she was living. In her mind’s eye she could see her innocent little girl slashed but whatever knife this stranger claimed he had. From the tone of his voice, she knew he was capable of such and atrocious act.

After dressing, Stephanie turned and caught her first glimpse to the man who had invaded her home. He was tall, about six three and was heavily built. He was shrouded in a dark trench coat and beneath wore a hooded sweat shirt which he had pulled up. In the darkness she couldn’t make out his features but could see his eyes, dark and glaring. As she stared at him, he moved his index finger to his lips and reinforced that she was to remain quiet.

The man walked over to Stephanie and whispered in to her ear, “Now, listen very closely to me and follow my instructions and your children will not be harmed.” His breath smelled of mint as he continued. “There is a green car parked out there about a hundred feet up the street. The back, passenger side door is unlocked. I want you to go and get in the car, through that unlocked door. When you get inside, you’ll find that you can pull down the backseat to get into the trunk. I want you to crawl into the trunk and pull the seat back up behind you. You will hear it latch. You will lay still and not make a sound. Do you understand?”