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Chapter 4: Happy Birthday, Thelma

Thelma

I gulp. How did he know my name? Had Rebekah requested for the taxi in my name instead of hers? Am I being kidnapped? What the hell is happening?

As all these thoughts swim in my head as I start looking around the taxi. The passenger door is locked. The taxi is moving very quickly and I’m not sure if I would rather risk jumping out of a moving vehicle or just brace myself for whatever awaits me.

I try the handle, but the door doesn’t budge. With very little options, I contemplate if I should squeeze myself through the window. I’m small enough but I have no idea how to open the window. It seems this taxi was designed purposefully to trap people inside.

Maybe I could reach over to the front and strangle the driver, but then that would just make him lose control of the car causing us to crash. I worry my bottom lip as I attempt to cook up an escape plan.

“Child lock,” the driver says as if reading my mind.

Why would he put a child lock on the passenger door of a taxi? Who was this person and what did he want from me? The car veers off into a dusty road. I am sure he is taking me into some deserted forest to kill me now.

I close my eyes and start praying…what was that prayer Ma always recited? Hail what? I try to remember the words, but the fear is causing me to have amnesia. Maybe I could say the Lord’s prayer. We had always said that prayer in school. ‘Our father, whose heart is in heaven…or was it who art in heaven?’ Again, I am unable to recall the words.

I shrug, “Well, maker, me and you are about to meet. Forgive me for laughing at Uncle Fernandez's belly, and making fun of River’s duck lips. Everyone is beautiful in their own way, I know. Forgive me for bombing her video shoot that one time and sticking out my tongue and making funny faces. But that video is the only one that ever went viral, and I think I was the reason. Oh, and forgive me for that one time that I put cousin Mike’s clothes in the poison ivy bush. It is just that he is always pulling pranks on me. I know it is bad to fight fire with fire, but come on, he deserved it. See you soon. It’s me, Thelma. I think you know my mom; she talks to you a whole lot.”

The sound of someone chuckling causes me to open my eyes. Had I been saying my prayer out loud?

It doesn’t take me too long to realize the car isn’t moving anymore. So, was this it? Was I going to be killed?

I look around at the surroundings. I glimpse what looks like an old abandoned warehouse. As I pivot around in my seat, I can see the gate that goes back into a dusty wide road.

The lock on the door clicks open, and I hastily open the door and make a run for it toward the open double gate. I don’t even bother to retrieve my backpack; all I want is to put distance between me and this man. I hope there will be some cars that I can flag down for help.

“Thelma, stop!”

I think I imagined the voice that sounds like Rebekah’s. I don’t stop in case my brain is playing tricks on me. This time I am sure I can hear footsteps behind me. One of my sandals comes off, but this just causes me to increase my speed.

“Thelma!” Rebekah’s voice calls out again. I turn and glance over my shoulder. I see Rebekah running after me and I stop. What the hell was going on?

When she catches up to me, she is breathless. She leans her head on my shoulder and I can hear her noisily hyperventilating as she tries to regain some oxygen.

“Damn…you…run…like a cheetah. What in the actual fuck?” Rebekah exhales breathily.

“What in the actual fuck, indeed? Why am I here? This isn’t the diner; or are you opening a new location here?” I ask as I, too, try to collect myself.

The taxi driver strolls toward us with the same devilish grin on his face. He picks up my sandals and as he nears us, I push Rebekah in front of me as a human shield.

“Oh, this is my cousin, Martin. I hope he didn’t give you too much of a scare,” Rebekah adds.

I peer at Martin from behind Rebekah. He smiles and waves a little.

“Your cousin is a taxi driver?” I ask. I would have imagined Rebekah’s family was rich, including the extended family.

“No, no. He has this acting-whatever company. They offer fake kidnapping as a service. I guess some people have fun with that kind of twisted role-playing,” she answers with a shrug.

I frown. Had she just used the words kidnap and fun in the same sentence?

“Fantasy kidnappings, it’s called,” Martin corrects her.

I can feel my frown deepen. His statement wasn’t making the situation any better.

Who out there had a kidnapping fantasy? And Rebekah mentioned it was a business of Martin’s? Did that many people actually spend money to feel like they were being kidnapped?

Those thoughts didn’t matter at the moment. “So, why was I ‘kidnapped?’” I ask. If this was an added duty to my job description at the diner, they would have to compensate me well for the trouble. Throwing cousin Mike’s clothes in the poison ivy was brutal, but this was just messed up.

“Come,” Rebekah says as she ushers me forward.

I grab the shoe Martin offers me before hastily moving away from him. I still can’t bring myself to trust him. Rebekah walks lightly towards the abandoned warehouse.

Were we here to collect inventory for the diner? Why would they keep food supplies in this dingy place?

As we get to the door, it swings open and standing there is a man who is all muscles. I assume he is a bouncer, or bodyguard of some sort. His enormous muscles and frame seem to swallow up his entire neck. What in the dingy abandoned warehouse was all this?

He nods at Rebekah and moves aside as we walk in. The place is dark except for a few wall dim light fixtures that offer a faint yellow glow.

“Surprise!!!”

I almost jump as I hear screams and shouts in the room we are now in. More lights come on and I can see the faces of most of my co-workers smiling at me. Some raise their beverage glasses at me. On the far side of the huge room, I see a cake that looks almost my size in height. A banner above it is written, ‘Happy Twenty-First, Thelma!’

“Wh---”

As if reading my thoughts, Rebekah answers. “Happy birthday, friend. I would never ask you to work on your birthday. I spoke to my dad, and we closed the diner just for today. You are like a sister to me, you know?” She leans in and hugs me tightly.

I can feel tears burning my eyelids as my heart swells up with pent-up emotion. Rebekah was one person who seemed to empathize with the stress of my homelife, but I hadn’t expected her to do something this special just for my birthday. In fact, I wish I had known what she had planned so I could have worn a better outfit for the occasion. However, nobody seems to mind my attire.

A person, I assume is a waiter, comes by with a tray of drinks. We both take a glass each and head for a booth. I start taking the time to look around the place; it is quite different from the impression one gets from the outside. The engineered hardwood flooring looks very well kept and maintained. There is a bar area where an animated barman is mixing up cocktails gracefully. On one side of the room is a booth where a DJ is readying some music. There are strobe lights and luminescent disco balls hanging from the ceiling.

“What is this place, friend? It looks like those clubs I see in the movies,” I point out.

Rebekah throws her head back and laughs. “It’s Kwaad’s Club. A very exclusive establishment….But don’t worry, I have connections so I managed to rent out the entire place just for you!” she says excitedly.

Had she just said Kwaad?! Wasn’t that the name of our family boogeyman?

Just then, the sound of breaking glass causes us both to tilt our heads around in search of the source of the noise. One of our coworkers has just smashed a bottle onto the floor and carrying a shard of broken glass in his hand, starts advancing at some other gentleman sitting near him.

Suddenly, as if appearing out of thin air, a colossal man in a gray suit appears and picks up our colleague by the very hand that is holding the make-shift weapon. Another large man dressed like the guard who was at the door comes and takes over. Our colleague, who is kicking and screaming, is led toward the door to be thrown out.

The gigantic man in the gray suit makes his way toward our booth, as the light behind his head enshrouds me and Rebekah in a giant shadow. I feel like a fly in his presence and my heart starts thudding, nervously.

“I thought you assured me that you are all adults. I will not accept fighting and property damage in my club, do you hear me, little girl?” he addresses Rebekah, forcefully in a gravelly tone.

Rebekah visibly swallows. “I…I am sorry sir. I didn’t think any of us would cause any trouble. I promise we will be more well-behaved and careful; In fact, I will make sure of it.”

The man huffs with irritation. He turns to look at me, and for some reason, I can’t look away. His steel gray eyes hold mine in place as he drinks me in. I feel the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end and a tingly sensation moves through my body. Suddenly a light just above his head flickers and turns off. Sparks of electricity fly all over, causing Rebekah to shriek. Still, my gaze on the strange man is unbreakable and locked.

The man raises his hand, and I’m unsure about what he plans to do with it, until he scratches his head, before turning and walking away.

Had I spooked the handsome, egotistic, stuck-up giant with my eyes, or was he simply afraid of some silly electrical fault?

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