The Samaritan

The Samaritan “The Lord has prepared a place of punishment for the wicked, and he has prepared a place of rest for the innocent.” A preacher’s accented voice pierced across the radio. Eddie hit the scan button and enjoyed a half-second of silence. “The Houston Texans just can’t seem to get the hang of what a draft is for. I mean, you’ve got to take advantage of coming in last in the lea…” With a dramatic motion, Eddie flipped the radio off. He had grown tired of the same old weary banter. He drove in silence, save for the rattle and hum of his ’91 Peterbilt and the occasional faint squeal of the CB radio over channel 19. Eddie’s burgundy semi-sleeper was rolling down Texas Highway 71, just south of Columbus. He had delivered an empty trailer to Llano and was now flying bobtail on his way back home. It had been a long day, and it was likely to be a long hour or more before he could park his rig at home and call it a night. The road raced like a treadmill under the guiding beam of the truck’s headlights. It was a hypnotic pattern that coaxed Eddie’s mind toward unconsciousness. The leading luminance faded darker. Eddie’s eyes narrowed. His head dipped. With a startle, Eddie shook his head and jerked it back up. The metal beast beneath him jerked across the road. Eddie shifted his body in the seat and leaned forward on the steering wheel. He had to find some way to keep alert for the remaining drive home. Channel 19 had been pretty quiet for the past thirty minutes. Eddie scanned through the channels to see if there were any conversations going on elsewhere. Truckers often head to another channel for a more direct conversation so the main channel stays open. Eddie had at times eavesdropped in on some pretty interesting exchanges. This time, however, there was nothing. The glowing red lights of the channel indicator on his CB flipped rapidly through the forty channels, past channel 19, and around a couple more times. Eddie let the channels spin and focused his eyes back on the road. Then a crackling voice startled him. “Hel…” the voice cut off from the CB. It was a light voice; a soft voice. Eddie looked down at his CB. It had stopped on channel 9, the channel reserved for emergencies. He felt his face flush just a bit. Eddie picked up the mic and brought it to his lips. “Hello. Is someone out there?” he said. Moments of silence passed. There was nothing. Then Eddie’s CB speakers squealed loudly with piercing feedback. “Hi. Hello.” The same soft voice called out to Eddie across the air waves. “Can you help me?” It was a sincere voice of innocence, with a lining of fear. A hard lump formed in Eddie’s throat.

“Are you in trouble?” There was a slight pause. “Who is this? Where are you?” Eddie tried to judge by the strength of the signal how far away the caller was. The CB radio’s signal indicator was peaking at two to three bars. On this flat prairie, the caller could be several miles away or they could be nearby with the signal reduced by interfering material. “You need to get here right away.” Eddie slowed his truck down, but kept heading south, keeping an eye on the strength of the incoming signal. “OK, just hold on a minute.” Eddie said. “Let’s get control of this situation. First of all, what’s your name?” “My name is Penelope.” “You’ve got a beautiful name, Penelope. My name’s Eddie. It’s kinda plain compared to yours. What’s your last name?” “Crane.” “Hi, Penelope Crane.” “Hi, Eddie.” For the first time since their conversation had begun, Eddie didn’t hear desperation in the girl’s voice. “Hi, Penelope.” Eddie replied back with a calm voice, hoping to comfort her even more. “Are you bleeding right now?” “No.” “Can you tell me where you are? Do you have an address or can you describe your location to me?” “I don’t know where I am. I’m in a house” she paused, “but it’s not mine.” “Are you by yourself?” “No.” “Who else is there with you?” “There’s a man who is normally here, but he’s gone now. He’s not nice, though.”

“OK. Now listen, the only way I can track you down is if I get a bearing on your signal. Do you understand that?” “Not exactly.” “I need to see where your signal is coming from in relation to where I am. Does that make sense?” “Yeah, I understand.” the girl said. Eddie glanced back down at the signal bar. It was still holding steady at two bars, with more occasional peaks up to three. His eyes scanned the dark horizon and wondered where this plea for help was coming from. There was nothing but black outside the scope of his headlights. “What we need to do here is keep on talking so I can get your signal and track it down. Can you keep talking with me for a few minutes?” “Yes. But you really need to hurry.” “I’m getting there as fast as I can.” Eddie felt a bit of relief now that he had a plan on how track this girl down. A few moments of silence took Eddie further down the road. The radio squelched again. Eddie’s face grimaced at the sound. He had to keep some conversation going so he could find this girl. “Penelope, we truckers have a nickname that we use when talking on the CB. It’s called a handle. My handle is Dark Horse. Do you have a handle?” Eddie waited for a moment, but there was no response. Then the soft voice came back over the speaker. “Cobra.” Eddie looked down at his own Cobra brand CB radio, with the coiled logo glowing orange, and smiled at the girl. “Alright, Cobra. You hang in there. Dark Horse is on his way.” Eddie noticed his signal bars were now steady at three bars and peaking up to four. He had to be closer. He peered into the black void to his right and back over to the darkened trees to his left. There was nothing to offer hope. Up ahead on the road Eddie noticed the red tail lights of a car. They hadn’t been there before, so the car must have just turned onto the highway. Another few seconds, and Eddie saw the green reflection of a county road sign. CR 101, it was marked. It was time for another signal test. “You still with me, Cobra?” The radio hissed back with static, and the soft voice followed. “I can hear you.”

As Eddie passed the county road, the signal was steady at four bars; the strongest signal yet. He followed a hundred yards behind the car and wondered if that driver had anything to do with Penelope. He wondered if he would ever find her. Eddie’s eyes stared intently at the two gleaming red eyes that taunted him. He was mesmerized by them. What secrets could they tell? “Dark Horse.” The girl’s voice was more modest than it had been before. “You won’t forget about me, will you?” Eddie was struck by the question. “Most people forget about me.” Eddie gripped the microphone hard in his hand, but didn’t press the button to talk. It took a concerted effort to move his finger and make the button go down. “I won’t forget.” Eddie promised. Eddie noticed that the signal bars had gone back down to three. He was getting further away. That county road had to lead to Penelope. As quickly as he could, Eddie slowed his rig down and did a U-turn in the highway. In less than a minute, he was coming up on country road 101. He slowed the rig down and looked in his rear-view mirror as he prepared to turn. The red lights of that car were still back there. As he turned the rig off of the paved highway onto the dirt road, they glared back at him with brighter red eyes. “Dark Horse for Cobra. Come in Cobra.” When the girl’s voice responded, Eddie lit up like an old lady on a winning slot-machine stool. Four solid bars meant he was close. “I’m getting close to you, Penelope. Can you tell me anything about the house that you’re in?” “It’s a trailer house, I’m pretty sure.” The girl told him. “Great, that helps a lot.” Eddie kept driving down the road. A sea of black was all that lay before him. Then, he noticed a dark, ghostly image off the road, to his right. As he came closer, the murky mass became slightly brighter and clearer. A few more seconds, and the shape became just what Eddie wanted it to become…a trailer house. The air brakes on the rig hissed as Eddie brought the machine to a stop on the dirt road. “I think I’m here, Penelope. I think I’m at your house. Is your trailer house tan, like a brown color?” “Yeah, I think so.” Penelope replied. “It’s been a long time since I’ve seen the outside.” Eddie looked at his radio curiously. “How long have you been in this place?” Eddie asked her. “Six years.” the voice answered. “Can you turn a light on? Can you flash the lights on or off?” There was a long silence.

“I think I can turn the light on.” Eddie peered through the darkness at the faint outline of the darkened trailer, waiting on some sign from the girl. Not even a porch light or bathroom light was glowing. All Eddie could see was dark and gloom. As Eddie’s eyes moved over the trailer, from left to right, a movement caught his attention back to the left. He glanced back over, and there it was. A light in the bedroom at the far end of the trailer was on. “I see you now. I see the light.” Without waiting for any further response, Eddie reached under his seat and pulled out a pouch. With the flip of a latch, he quickly exposed his Glock G34; a solid pistol with just enough knockdown power to get him out of a hairy situation. Eddie reached for the CB mic again. “OK, Penelope. I’m coming in, now. You say this guy isn’t here right now?” “That’s right. He’s gone now.” Eddie took a deep breath. “I’ll be right there.” Eddie put the mic down and climbed down from his cab. He looked back down the dirt road to the highway and saw nothing. He was nervous as hell, but this was no time for hesitation. As he walked up the driveway to the darkened trailer, his senses were heightened. He could hardly believe what he was doing. Every step was like a moment of eternity. Eddie made his way up to the porch’s landing and placed his hand on the front door. It was locked, of course. There was a crow-bar back in his truck, but he had the impression that there wasn’t time for that. Eddie stepped back, raised his right foot and put a solid kick into the door. The door jam gave, and a hard push of his shoulder had him standing in the small foyer. Eddie could feel his body quaking from nerves, and he was chilled to the bone from fear. He reached out his left arm and rubbed his hand along the wall, feeling for a switch. He felt a double switch panel and flipped both of them up. Light flooded the foyer he was in and another lit up the front porch. With the light, Eddie noticed a third switch, and it lit up the kitchen and living room to his left, in the direction of the girl’s room. As Eddie moved through the small kitchen and across the living room, he noticed the decrepit condition of the place. Dirty dishes filled the sink. A small table was strewn with papers and more dishes. Tired counters hosted their own menagerie of clutter and trash. In the living room, a worn and ring-stained coffee table sat in front of a faded and well-aged sofa. Next to it, a small stack of magazines inappropriate for the company of little girls sat on a matching end table. A TV with over-done rabbit ears looked like it hadn’t shown a picture for over five years, but Eddie imagined that it still worked. This entire space was the museum of a stagnant mind.

Across the living room, Eddie entered a short hallway that led to the bedroom. He could see the faint light shining from under the door. He took a few steps down the hallway, wrapped his palm around the knob and turned. As the door opened and Eddie looked into the room, he saw what he was not expecting to see. A table made into a desk sat in the middle of the room. Boxes lined the wall on one side. A made-up bed was on the other. Everything was covered in dust. This room hadn’t been touched in years. There was lots of clutter around the room, but there was no Penelope. Eddie called her name a couple of times, but there was no response. Eddie walked around the room and looked under the desk and behind any place that a little girl could hide, but he found nothing. As his eyes filtered through the clutter that covered the desk, one thing stuck out and grabbed Eddie’s attention. It was a dusty old CB radio. The coiled Cobra logo stuck out to Eddie like a light in the night. He slowly reached his hand out to the knob. His fingers rested on the silver covering. He turned it and the box squelched to life. A chill struck down to Eddie’s bones and the hair on the back of his neck stood on end. What had really happened tonight? Who had he spoken to on the CB? He had been nodding off earlier. Had he dreamt the whole thing? Eddie decided to check the rest of the trailer out before he left. As Eddie reached the doorway, his right arm, whose hand held his Glock G34, was met by the solid hit of a baseball bat. The Glock fell to the ground as Eddie fell back into the room and grasped his paining arm. “Who the Fuck are you?!” a voice snarled. The country drawl in the voice reeked with ignorance and quite frankly repulsed Eddie. He looked up to see a man, a large man by all counts, cowering in the doorway. From Eddie’s diminished perspective, the man was tall, but even standing face to face, this man would easily have three inches over Eddie, not to mention the hundred-plus pounds that favored him as well. The man had reached down to pick up Eddie’s gun, and Eddie made an instinctive move at him, but his arm wouldn’t let him respond like his mind wanted to. “Not so fast, farm boy.” The man was up again with the Glock set squarely at Eddie’s body. Despite his ignorance, this man was no dummy. He wasn’t going to risk a miss on a head shot. When he was ready to pull the trigger, he would have Eddie out of commission with a sure shot to the body. But how long would that be? Eddie kept a keen eye on the man, but darted quick eyes around him to find some weapon of attack or defense. There was nothing. “Before I put a bullet in your gut and let you die slowly, answer me something. Why you here, boy?” Eddie was too afraid to respond. The longer he didn’t answer, the longer he had a chance to get a plan to get out of here.

“I saw you turn around out on the highway, and ain’t no ‘uther houses down my road. Ain’t nobudy for miles. I knew yuze up to something down here. Now what thu hell is it?” The man looked serious about getting his answer. Why hadn’t he just shot Eddie? Why was he so persistent? Then it struck Eddie. This man’s private, sick world was hidden in this trailer. How had the secret gotten out? No one breaks into a fucking trailer house to steal money or jewelry. The man knew that Eddie knew at least something about him. Who else knew? Could he kill Eddie and be done with it, or would he have to run? Eddie’s best plan was to play this wide open. Let him think he knew as much as he could. “Penelope.” Eddie finally said, through a slightly pained voice. “I’m here for Penelope Crane. We know she’s here.” The man’s face looked puzzled. “Penelope Crane? I killed that bitch, what, five, six years ago? There ain’t no Penelope here, boy. You bullshittin’ me!” All of a sudden, many things became very clear to Eddie. A wave of adrenalin rushed through his body. “Sir, there is anything but bullshit going on here right now.” Then Eddie raised his voice. “Ain’t that right, Cobra.” Suddenly, the CB radio on the desk came to life with an ear-piercing squelch that took the man by surprise. The man recoiled from the sound and Eddie jumped to action. With a burst, he leapt across the room and tackled the man’s legs, knocking him off balance. As the man fell, he pulled at the trigger to lay a slug into Eddie’s body, but the trigger wouldn’t budge. Eddie had left the safety on, and the man had failed to check that. The man fell back against the wall and slid down to the floor. Eddie started wailing punches into his abdomen, but they were safely absorbed by his fatty stomach. He targeted his swings at the man’s head, but his bulky arms were blocking the punches. The man was big and awkward, but his defense at the moment was rather effective. Still swinging his adrenal punches, Eddie looked for the gun. It had fallen on the floor and was a good body length away. The bat lay harmlessly in the hallway. Eddie leapt for the gun and the man immediately knew his plan. He grabbed Eddie’s right arm, the bat-attacked one, and Eddie was immediately stopped. The man tightened his grip on Eddie’s arm. It would have hurt bad enough without the painful bruise. With the bruise, Eddie screamed even louder in pain. The best weapon Eddie could garnish was his boots. Even with the man’s grip firm on his arm, Eddie was able to maneuver his body around and put the front of his right boot into the man’s neck. The man released one hand from Eddie’s arm to shield himself. Eddie kept swinging both feet at the man’s head and fortunately as many swings were finding their target as was getting blocked.

As soon as the man released his grip on Eddie’s arm, Eddie spun away and darted into the hallway, since that’s the direction he was facing. The man lumbered toward the gun. Eddie would only have a couple of seconds before he would grab the gun and unlock the safety. Surely he knew by now that was why the gun hadn’t fired earlier. Just as the man’s fingers fell on Eddie’s Glock, the tip of the bat made contact with the man’s left knee. He screamed but ignored the pain and kept after the gun. He gripped it with his left hand, flipped the safety with his thumb and twirled the gun around to lay a slug into Eddie’s chest. The gun fired. The man grunted in pain. The gun flew a few feet away and landed at a safe distance on the carpeted floor. Eddie was standing at the man’s feet with the bat gripped firmly in his hands, pointing down at the man. Six inches up the bat, from the tip, the man’s hand was frozen in the air in a deformed shape from the impact of the bat. The man made a feeble attempt at reaching for the gun and Eddie planted two hard swings into his back. On the second hit, he swore that he heard bone crack. Eddie stepped over to where the gun lay on the floor. He dropped the bat, picked up the gun and walked back to the man. He lay helpless and unmoving, like a convict at his execution. As Eddie raised the gun and aimed it at the man’s head, the words of the radio preached echoed through his ears. “The Lord has prepared a place of punishment for the wicked.” Eddie said, and he pulled the trigger.

******

As Eddie reached the front door of the trailer, he heard some commotion down the hallway. With his gun raised, he crept down the hallway. The noise seemed to be coming from behind the first door. With the gun raised in his right hand, Eddie slowly turned the knob with his left and then quickly swung the door open. The room was dark. A muffled voice and scraping sounds were crying out to Eddie from the darkness. He reached through the doorway and found a light switch. The room was illuminated, but all that Eddie noticed was a bathtub, dirty with filth, with a shower rod with no curtain. In the tub was the writhing body of a little brunette girl, gagged and bound at her feet and hands.

Eddie lowered his pistol and stuck it in the back of his jeans. He knelt down and loosened the girl’s gag. “You’re OK now.” He comforted her. “I’m going to take you someplace safe.” The girl looked up at him with large brown, teary eyes, and simply nodded. Eddie picked her up and carried her away. As he reached the broken doorway of the trailer, with the girl cradled in his arms, Eddie took a pause. An unfelt breeze etched a chill over his shoulders, and he swore he heard the familiar voice of a little girl whisper the words of that radio preacher, “and he has prepared a place of rest for the innocent.”