Serving Anadrues

Chapter Two

Beckett- That night was the most…the most….turbulent, I suppose you could say, of my life. I had been unable to sleep, so I had slipped out to the garden with my book. I placed myself on a bench and opened the book. So absorbed was I in the perusal of this novel that I barely heard the first peculiar noise. I looked up at the second. But, assuming it was merely one of the cats chasing a small animal in the bushes, I ignored it and went back to my book. The sound grew louder. I shut my book and looked up. At that exact moment, a figure leaped from the bushes. It was a man. A very hideous man. Startled, I threw the book down and stood up. The man had a very alarming physiognomy. He had oily, dirty blonde hair, ashen skin, and yellowed, rotten teeth. He grinned maliciously at me and sneered, “Hello there……” We stood there, staring at each other. Then, without warning, he lunged. I dodged to one side, narrowly avoiding capture. He lunged again, and this time I could not move quickly enough. He slammed full-force into me, knocking every ounce of breath I had out of me. I lay there in shock, too confused to fight back. My attacker took this opportunity to bind my wrists with a length of rope that he had obtained from the inside of his cloak. The man then yanked me up to my feet. I staggered, suddenly lightheaded. My attacker must have noticed my sudden weakness, because he gently pulled me behind him through the forsythia he had crashed through moments ago. Awaiting us on the other side was an enclosed wagon of some kind. He opened the door and extracted two long manacles, which he clipped to my ankles. He shoved me into the darkness of the wagon. I had regained my strength by now, so I leaped

 

at the man, hoping at least to knock him down. But the chains were not as long as I thought they were. I was stopped short, and slammed down on the squalid floor of the wagon face first. The man’s momentary display of kindness and mercy dissipated, and he cackled in his throat. His laugh was jeering, mirthless, mocking. He slammed the door shut, and I heard the dull thud of the wooden bar, finalizing my containment. After a moment, we lurched into motion. I was thrown one way, then another with the jarring motion of my mobile prison cell. We continued for, at my guess, a half hour. Suddenly, we skidded to an abrupt stop. I heard my captor speaking to another man. Then the door to the wagon fell open. My captor stared in at me, as did another man I had never seen before. I glared at them for a moment before turning away in disgust. The men soon left me alone, and switched carts, with the newcomer taking the reins of my wagon. I was watching from the barred window throughout this exchange. I curled up in the corner as the wagon began to move. I didn’t cry, for I was too numb to. What would become of me?