The Secret Friend

64

Walter calmly set the tray on the kitchen counter. Hannah had finished most of her dinner. She had been with him for nearly five days and she still refused to speak to him.

Emma Hale had screamed the first two weeks, calling him every name in the book while demanding to be let go immediately. At the beginning of the second month, she had tried to attack him with one of the kitchen chairs inside her room. To prevent that from happening again, he used chains with brackets and locks to secure chairs to the kitchen table legs. As punishment, he turned off the electricity to her room and left Emma alone in the dark, without food, for several days, to teach her a lesson.

It worked. For the next three months Emma was well behaved. She acted friendly and kind. She seemed interested in what he had to say. She opened up and shared things about her life – personal, intimate things like her mother's death. They had many long, pleasant conversations. They even watched movies together – When Harry Met Sally and Pretty Woman. To show his appreciation, he brought her to the upstairs dining room for a special romantic dinner and served everything on fine china. Emma had repaid his kindness by hitting him over the head with the dinner plate. She almost made it to the front door.

In the beginning, he had been dazzled by Emma's beauty, had fallen under her spell and was willing to do anything in the world to make her love him – he had gone so far as to sneak back inside Emma's home to retrieve a special necklace. He had given it to Emma as a surprise and she still refused to love him and Mary told him it was time to send Emma away.

The first week, Judith Chen hadn't screamed or yelled; that came later. When he offered to buy her clothes, any clothes she wanted, she had said yes and thanked him. She had modelled the clothes for him, said how nice they were, and thanked him. He bought her the books she wanted, DVDs and magazines; he cooked her favourite meals and always she thanked him.

With her soft voice and disarming manner, Judith had seductively manoeuvred him into walks outside to get fresh air. He always took her out late at night, when the rest of the world was asleep. Blindfolded, she sat in the passenger seat and he drove her a mile away, to an isolated section of woods, and walked with her. She never complained about the gag or the handcuffs. When he returned Judith to her room, she thanked him, she always thanked him.

The night she tried to escape, they were out for one of their lovely walks. This time he hadn't gagged her but her wrists were cuffed. On the way back to the car, she asked if she could kiss him. She leaned forward, smiling, and drove her knee into his crotch.

The pain was like a white-hot supernova; it exploded across his vision and the next thing he knew he was down on the ground among the dry pine needles gasping for air. She kicked him in the stomach and kicked him in the head once, twice, three times. Then she was sitting on the ground and, like an acrobat, moving her cuffed wrists across the back of her legs and over her feet. She grabbed the car keys from his coat pocket and ran through the woods.

Bleeding and dizzy, he managed to get to his feet and run after her. Mary told him to relax – everything would be fine, she said, and Mary was right; she was always right.

Walter caught up to Judith just as she reached the car. He pulled her away from the door and Judith screamed and he shoved her face against the hood and she kept screaming and again he smashed her face against the hood and windshield until Mary told him to stop.

Judith didn't talk after that. Then she got sick and she… she had to leave.

Why wouldn't Hannah speak to him?

This morning, when he delivered breakfast, he had asked her if there was anything she would like: a book, movie, a CD by her favourite band – anything, just name it. Hannah didn't answer.

Walter came back an hour later and knocked on the door. She didn't answer. He collected the dishes from the sliding tray and carried them upstairs. He worked out extra hard and took a long shower.

He brought her lunch and knocked. When Hannah didn't answer, he let himself in. She was sitting in the leather chair again.

Unable to stand the silence any more, Walter decided to tell Hannah about the accident, how he had woken up in bed with his skin and hair on fire and Momma already collapsed on the burning bed. He stressed how he didn't blame Momma for hurting him. Momma was angry because Daddy had left them when Walter was still in her belly and Momma had to work two jobs to keep a roof over their heads and food on the table. Momma talked about how angry she was at God for having him take away her dreams and sticking her with a bad child – and he had been bad, oh yes, he had done bad things to get Momma's attention. He didn't tell Hannah about the time he was caught choking the little girl. It was an accident. All he wanted was to hug her. She was so pretty and she smelled so good.

Walter told Hannah how he had learned, through patience and prayer, lots of prayer, to forgive Momma even after all the terrible things she did to him, like the time she dunked his hand in a pot of boiling water. He still loved her now, even though Momma was gone and in heaven.

And now it was time for Hannah to forgive him. It was time to move forward. It was time for Hannah to be thankful for all the wonderful blessings in her life.

As a show of good will, Walter gave her a present – a sheet of beautiful Crane stationery and a matching envelope. He handed her a pen and told her to write a letter to her parents. He promised to mail it. Again he said he was sorry for hurting her. It was an accident. Forgive me, Hannah. Please.

Hannah didn't answer.

Walter gripped the edge of the kitchen counter. He had opened up to Hannah, shared his most painful secrets, and she hadn't said one word, just sat in the damn chair, waiting for him to leave. Her silence mocked him. He felt like slapping her right then but he didn't. Walter was proud of his self-control. He washed the dishes and shut off the lights in the kitchen.

For the next two hours he worked on a client's website. Then he hit the weights until his muscles were depleted.

Walter felt lighter, much better. He sat down with the wedding album.

The first picture was a wonderful black-and-white photograph of Hannah dressed in a stunning Vera Wang wedding gown. Walter wore a classic black tux. They were holding hands. The people sitting in the pews were smiling, admiring them. Everyone was clapping.

Here was another picture of them on their honeymoon in Aruba. Hannah stood on a beach of white sand, wearing a breathtaking black bikini that barely covered her tanned body. Her hair was wet, smelling of the ocean, and she was smiling and happy as she looked down on him, her husband, lying on a towel under the bright, hot sun, his skin perfectly tanned and sculpted with muscle, not a blemish or scar anywhere.

Walter was very good with computers. Using Photoshop, he had transferred the digital pictures he had taken of Hannah walking to her job and class and pasted her face on the various photographs he had found on the internet. The results were spectacular.

His favourite picture was the last one – Hannah holding their newborn son.