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There is something exciting and terrifying about not knowing quite where you’re going to end up. Like pointing to a spot on a map and deciding that’s where you are going to go then that’s it, you go. Unless you are not the travelling type and the spot on the map is only one stop of many to get to where you must, not want, to go. Add to that the reward of the impromptu trip being a fight with your ex-husband, Bakster to retrieve your soon-to-be furious 8-year-old daughter, Rosalinda. Then the drive back to Lafayette with that furious child. Roselia thought it sounded like a nightmare.

As she sat her bag and phone down on the king size bed in the motel room, she wondered if it was worth it to bother with a shower. Deciding it was, she rummaged through the bag hoping she had remembered to pack pajamas. ‘Ah, there you are. At least I managed that.’ Giving her favorite onesie a tug and finding her way to the bathroom. Letting the hot water wash over her, she thought of what was waiting for her at the end of this trip. Her daughter, much to Bakster’s dismay, got hit with most of Roselia’s genetics. Rosalinda’s ability to see through a lie and not care to speak her truth have always been a thorn in her less than truthful father’s side. Though he rarely lied to his daughter, whom, Bakster had no trouble lying to Roselia. The inevitable argument with Bakster for taking their daughter across several state lines and deciding to stay the week when he knows Rosalinda has school. ‘Honestly, what the actual… what was he thinking? What could have possibly been going through his mind!’ she wondered in irritation. Bakster has always been a bit senseless, but this was the first time he had ever involved Rosalinda in one of his grand ideas.

Finally comfortable with her hair dried and freshly clothed in her favorite nighttime garb, Roselia realized just how tired she really was. Crawling onto the soft cushion of the bed and letting herself drift into sleep. Her dreams were strange, filled with other places she knew but had never seen and people whose faces she recognized but couldn’t see. The product of an exhausting and anxiety provoking day, this dreamscape was anything but comforting.

Taking a deep breath, she grabbed her phone and tapped maps. ‘Ok, she thought, I’m… in Lexington.’ Moving her finger along the cold surface of the screen while squinting in the glare of the bright mid-day sun. ‘Bakster and Rosalinda are… in Corolla.’ Pointing to the little dot on the map that shows where her daughter and ex-husband are currently located. ‘Lovely that he wanted to go as far North of the Carolina’s as he could’ she thought sarcastically. Trying, desperately, not to picture the look on Rosalinda’s face when she got there as she set her mind on the destination and kicked herself again for not investing in cell service for a proper maps experience. ‘If I can avoid the bathroom and push the gas tank, I should get there by nightfall.’ she thought as she drove back onto the road.

It was half past 10pm when she finally pulled up to the beach entrance in Corolla. As it turns out, when under pressure, Roselia has the bladder of a newborn chipmunk who drank 3 venti iced coffees in under 3 hours and could not avoid the bathroom. The headlights illuminated the somewhat worn-down sign telling her she was on the right track even with her mediocre map skills and lack of cell service. Thankful that she’d thought to bring the jeep on this unwanted adventure instead of the little Spark back home as she bumped and drug along the sandy beach with no issue.

As the wrangler hummed to a stop at the address Bakster had given during their less than friendly phone call, she felt her stomach knot. ‘This can’t be the house. They can’t be here.’ She thought. The house was a beautiful plantation style beachfront home but, from the outside, looked to be abandoned and in some disarray. Unkempt hedges and long dead flowers lined the property and the path up to the entrance to the house looked like it hadn’t been serviced in years. Once beautiful red brick walls lay crumbling on the ground from pieces long since broken from the structure before her. ‘I have to be at the wrong address.’ She muttered worriedly as she felt for her phone to check what she’d typed. The numbers and name matched perfectly with what was etched on metal plate beside the front door of the house. Steeling herself, she stepped to the doorbell and pushed. The sound was high and grating as it stretched in the distance of an empty house. Roselia felt panic rising from somewhere deep, moving through her stomach and coming up to pool in her throat. ‘No. No, this can’t be happening, this is NOT happening!’ her inner voice exclaimed. ‘I did not drive for 2 full days with no one to speak to but myself only to realize it was a lie. I did NOT come all this way for nothing. Where are they, oh god, oh god! Where’s my daughter, this isn’t happening. This is not happening!’ she screamed internally as her fingers found the doorknob and twisted frantically not thinking. To her stunned surprise, the latch clicked, the door swung open, and she nearly fell into the entryway.

Roselia looked around, not sure what to do. On the one hand, the door was apparently unlocked so technically this isn’t breaking or entering. On the other, it still felt like that and aside from the information Bakster gave her there was no sign anyone had been in this house for years if not decades. Unsure whether to search the house to be sure or rush back to the nearest Wi-Fi hotspot to alert the police of an apparent parental kidnapping. All Roselia knew at this moment was that something is very wrong. Roselia decided the best course would be to check if they were ever here at all and any clue to where they could have gone. Finding comfort in having a plan, she ran to grab a flashlight. The sound of metal tools clanking temporarily masked the sound of waves crashing behind her as she rummaged through the small, deep toolbox in the back of the jeep. ‘Ah, gotcha.’ She said as she pulled the small black light from the depths of the box. Just as she started to turn back to the house, something slammed hard into the back of her head. Turning around, she saw Bakster’s eyes shining back at her as her vision blurred and darkness crept in.

Roselia grimaced as her eyes fluttered open, bringing with them the pounding in her head and as she tried to bring a hand to the area of most pain and found that her hands were bound behind her back. She felt something warm and wet trickle down the back of her shirt as she slowly tried to raise herself to a sitting position. She was on a bed, in a large room lit by several candles placed around the space. Bakster sat on a chair beside the bed smiling, smugly, first aid kit in hand. “About time you come back around, love, didn’t think I hit you that hard, baby.” Bakster said in an apologetic tone.  “Now, before you ask, Rosie is fine. She’s with my mother, never even left the house.” smiling proudly down at her holding a first aid kit. “I told mom we were coming here and after she called to inform you, I brought Rosie back home. Told her I had an unexpected business meeting in San Diego and had already worked it out with you. Of course, I cut the phone line to the house before leaving just to make sure no one got their wires untangled.”

Roselia’s head ached as she tried to force her thoughts in order. “You, She… Rosalinda’s home? What’s going on! You hit me, you bastard!” Roselia’s head felt like it was going to explode now, like the pressure was going to take her under. “Yeah, sorry about that baby. I just needed you to give me a chance and hear me out. You never let me talk to you anymore, you know? So, I had a plan, for us, and I knew you’d never agree to come out here for me.” Struggling to focus her thoughts and keep him talking while her fingers tugged at the ropes binding her. “What plan, Baks?” she asked, politely, her fingers working through the first knot. “Shh, my love, sleep now. I’m going to take care of that cut on your head, and we’ll talk when you’ve had a chance to rest.” Bakster said as she felt the fog return and slipped into darkness again.

Roselia’s thoughts came in and out of focus, like the gentle ebb and flow of waves upon the sand. She was in danger, she knew that. The desire to make it home, where she now knew Rosalinda had been all along, was all that mattered even as the thumping in her head slowly rose up and roared against the back of her eyes. Her vision was blurry at first, but soon cleared to show that she was still in the same room as before. Dawn had brought with it the first rays of sunlight illuminating more of the room than before and showing she was now alone.  Her hands were still tied, but a few twists of her fingers told her that Bakster hadn’t bothered to check them while she was out. She tried to work quickly, not knowing where her captor was or when he’d be back. Ears listening keenly for any sound that meant he was near, but there was nothing. Finally free and thinking fast, she felt for her keys. ‘Yes! He may be crazy, but he’s still as careless as ever and no complaints there.’ Her hands shook as she raised off the bed slowly, so slowly and every inch felt like an eternity. Once upright she started, quietly, for the door. Thankful that it was open just slightly and peeling it back just enough to peer out into the hallway.

The room outside was darker than the one she was in, with just enough light to make out some dusty furniture, a tv stand and a wide stone door. ‘There!’ Her eyes locked on that door as she remembered pushing through it the night before. Squeezing through the crack in the door, she winced as it creaked and whined a little at the pressure. Somewhere above, she heard a curse. ‘Time to move.’ She was across the room and out the door before she could form another panicked thought. Swinging the jeep door open and jumping in, she saw Bakster running straight for her screaming something incoherent. Roselia threw it in reverse and barely looking behind her, slammed the gas. ‘Break, Drive, Gas.’ She thought, and with that, she was headed home.

She drove for 3 hours taking backroads, side streets, having a mini heart attack every time she saw a black hummer behind her, before she felt safe enough to stop at a gas station to fuel up and ask to use the phone. First, she called the police and explained where she’s from and where she is now, and the events that took place to both bring her here and send her running back home. Then she tried calling Bakster’s mother to check if his story was, in fact, the truth this time. Sure enough, the landline was ringing busy. So, she called their neighbors and asked them to check on them and left the number to reach her while she waited for the troopers to arrive and take her statement. They called back shortly after telling her that both were fine and happily working a 400 piece puzzle while they wait for the phone line to be fixed.

“This is entirely unnecessary, I’m fine.” Roselia protested as the EMT checked the cut on her head and shined lights in her eyes. “I’m sorry ma’am, but we need to make sure you aren’t concussed. It’s definitely necessary, that’s quite a bump and a nasty cut.” The no-nonsense blue-eyed medic who is very matter of fact and at once on Roselia’s nerve. “Well, am I concussed?” she asked with a brisk shrug. “No. You’re free to go.” he said as he packed his materials. “Thank you, really, I’m not usually this difficult but I have to get back home. I’ve never needed to hug my daughter so much in my life.” She said, feeling just a little guilty. “I definitely understand needing to hug your kid and after the night you’ve had, I can’t imagine you’d ever want to let her go. Now, you drive safe on the way and take care.” “Thank you.” She nodded and walked back to the officer she’d spoke to before, “Excuse me, is there anything else you need from me or is it okay if I head back to Louisiana?” “No, you’re free to go. I’m going to put an APB out on your ex and alert the Lafayette department to be on alert in case anything goes sideways before you get home. Are you sure you don’t want an escort to the border ma’am?” officer Callens asked tentatively. “No, I truly appreciate the offer, but I think I can manage it by myself.” Roselia giggled, though she hated to notice, officer Callens might be the most beautiful man she’d ever seen. “Well, if you’re sure, I’ll be getting back to the station. Ma’am.” Callens said as he nodded his head in her direction and walking away.

It was torture, to be an impossibly long way from home when that’s the only thing you wanted. After this traumatizing experience, Roselia thought she’d never leave her house again, much less the state. ‘So much for travelling the world someday.’ She thought dryly as she passed the road sign that said Lafayette was just 10 miles away. As the miles narrowed, she let her heart jump a little at the warm embrace of that almost home feeling. Just a few more minutes now, she thought, thinking of how much she’d missed Rosalinda and hoping she was still awake.

Roselia pulled up to the house around 11:15 and as she slipped out of the seat her lower back burned. Never again, she thought, as the weight of everything she’d went through, and almost constant driving bared down on her shoulders. When she looked up and seen the beaming smile of her mini-me, everything else fell away. “Mommy!” she shrieked and ran to her mother and wrapping her into a bearhug that could rival all others. “Hi baby.” Roselia whispered, in that moment, she was home.