Taylor was making pretty good progress climbing the stairs -- although he felt he was climbing Mt. Everest instead of a few steps. He had stopped to rest for a moment, leaning himself against the railing. He was out of breath.
You can rest when you’re dead, Taylor!
The reality of the word “dead” hit him like a ton of bricks -- bringing back the fear that had been temporarily replaced by adrenaline. He decided to push on. He adjusted his body and slowly moved his foot to the next step. Unfortunately, he’d moved away from the support of the banister and his foot slipped out from underneath him. With nothing but air to catch him, he fell to the stairs, hitting his chin on the riser.
His body tumbled violently down the stairs and landed with a thud to the floor. Upon landing, he felt an incredible pain in his left arm. The pain took his breath away and he struggled to maintain consciousness. A scream of agony mixed with frustration cut through the silence like a knife.
Taylor Hanson could do nothing but lie on his side and weep.
Jesse Lake had just sat down at the dining room table when he’d heard the noise from the basement. Someone was down there. Someone had screamed. He shot up quickly and made his way to the kitchen. He stared at the door to the basement for a moment, wondering if he should go down there or run like hell. He looked around for some kind of weapon and saw a baseball bat lying on the counter.
That’s odd.
It was his baseball bat -- the one he’d used while playing high school baseball. The last time he’d seen it was in his bedroom. What was it doing in the kitchen? He grabbed it, gripping it tightly. Moving toward the door, he reached out his hand to the door knob. That chill he’d felt outside was back.
He turned the knob and pulled on the door -- it wouldn’t budge. He looked above the doorknob and was surprised to see a deadbolt lock.
What the hell?
There had never been a deadbolt on the basement door before. Maybe the old man was paranoid about security or something. This was all starting to creep him out. A crack of thunder made him jump into the air. “Damn!”
He laughed to himself. This was crazy!
Just open the door, dammit!
Jesse turned the deadbolt and heard it click. He pulled the door open quickly, raising the bat in the air, preparing to knock the crap out of some scumbag. Greeted with darkness, he fumbled for the light switch. The sight that met his eyes at the bottom of the stairs scared the hell out of him.
Hearing the click of the lock, Taylor immediately curled himself into a ball. Eyes rendered useless by the sudden blinding light, he struggled to see what was in store for him. A blurry figure stood at the top of the stairs once again holding a bat. He was descending the stairs with the it raised in the air.
Taylor recoiled. Ignoring the horrible pain it caused him, he tried desperately to back away, finally resorting to rolling his body backwards. He finally stopped because he couldn’t take the fiery hurt. All he could do was draw his legs toward his stomach and beg for mercy.
“Please!” he screamed. “Please don’t hurt me again! Oh, God, please help me!”
Zac and Noah stepped out of the elevator onto the fifteenth floor. Noah, trying his best to make the little guy laugh, playfully put him into a headlock as they walked toward the room. Zac let out a yelp, playing along. Suddenly, men dressed in suits came out of nowhere and surrounded them, pointing guns. Noah stared at them in shock.
“Let go of him and back away slowly!” one of the men said.
“What?” Noah responded, still holding onto Zac.
“Let him go and back away!”
Noah quickly let go of Zac and did as he was told. The men were on him in a heartbeat, knocking him to the floor, trying to slap handcuffs on him.
“What are you doing?” Noah screamed.
“Holy freaking cow, guys, Noah is my friend!” Zac said.
“Hold it!” a voice screamed with so much authority that it shook the walls. It was a voice Zac Hanson had grown all too familiar with. His father was not a man to be reckoned with when he was using this tone. “You let him go right now!”
The agents looked up in stunned silence. None of them could move.
Walker approached the agents and grabbed one of them by the arm. “I said let him go!” He jerked the man up and threw him against the wall.
The agents did as they were told, eyeing Noah suspiciously, not one of them offering him an apology.
“You guys are amazing,” Walker said. “In two hours you’ve managed to apprehend all the wrong people.”
“You tell ‘em, Dad!” Zac said with a smirk.
“You!” Walker yelled, pointing to Zac. “Get back in that room!”
Zac said nothing. He just walked back in the room.
The FBI agents returned to their posts as if nothing had happened.
Noah tried to crack a joke to break the tension. “Don’t ever park in one of those handicapped spaces!”
Walker chuckled heartily, appreciating the joke. "How are you Noah?"
The two men embraced, old friends reunited, and returned to the room.
"I was a lot better before I heard about -"
They walked in on Diana letting Zac have it.
"Come on, Mom!" Zac said, a little irritated.
"Don't you 'come on, Mom' me, Zachary Walker Hanson!" She grabbed him by the shoulders and began shaking him. "I was worried sick about you!"
"But I just went to the lobby, Mom," Zac said, not hiding the fear in his voice. "Nothing happened!"
"Zac, you're brother went to the park with a bodyguard and look what happened to him! Don't you ever do that again!" The tears were flowing steadily from Diana as she grabbed her son and pulled him close to her. "Don't you ever do that again!"
Isaac slowly walked over and put his hand on his mother's shoulder. "It's okay, Mom. It's gonna be okay."
She let go of Zac and turned to her eldest son. Letting her anger get the best of her, she attacked Isaac, pushing him backward towards the wall as she yelled. "It's not okay, Isaac! Taylor's gone and I almost lost Zachary! How could you possibly think that everything is okay?"
Ike's back hit the wall. "Holy shit, Mom!" he said without thinking.
Her hand whizzed through the air and connected with his face. Diana's face went white as she realized exactly what she'd done. "Oh, Isaac! I'm sorry - I am so sorry." She buried her head in his chest and sobbed deeply. He didn't know what to think. He just stood there.
Walker gently grabbed Diana by the arm and lead to the bed. "Here, honey, just lie down and rest."
She tried to get up. "I can't rest, Walker. I can't rest until I know Taylor is okay."
"Diana, please!" Walker gently pushed her down on the bed. "Lie down and rest."
She laid her head on the pillow and closed her eyes. "Taylor," she muttered before the exhaustion overcame her body.
Jesse dropped the baseball bat and stared at the young man lying on the floor. He was tied with his hands behind his back and he was trying desperately to curl himself into a ball, as if to disappear from view.
Holy shit! The old man has finally lost it!
He rushed down the stairs and kneeled before the boy, reaching out to him.
“Don’t hurt me!” the boy screamed in terror. “Please, don’t hurt me again!”
Oh, man! Oh, shit!
“Look, I’m not going to hurt you,” Jesse said in the calmest voice he could muster. “I swear I’m not going to hurt you.”
Slowly, the boy uncurled himself and looked up. His eyes squinted at the bright light -- his face was bloody and bruised. Jesse studied the face carefully, realizing that he’d seen it before. A million questions ran through his mind.
“What are you doing here?”
“That’s a good question,” the boy responded. “Someone brought me here.”
Jesse cringed. He had a pretty good idea who that someone was. “How long have you been here?”
“Long enough to get the crap kicked out of me. Can you untie me please?”
“Oh, hell. I’m sorry!” Jesse moved around and tried to untie the ropes. Not having any luck, he pulled a pocketknife from his pants. “Don’t I know you from somewhere? What’s your name?”
“I’m Taylor. Taylor Hanson.”
Jesse stopped. “Taylor Hanson, as in the music group Hanson?”
“Yeah.”
“This doesn’t make any sense.”
“What doesn’t?”
“That my dad would --”
“Your dad did this to me?”
“This is his house. So, I guess he did. There, you’re free.”
“Thanks.” Taylor slowly moved his arms, trying to work out the stiffness. “Your dad is messed up, man.”
“Damn! You okay?”
“It really hurts.”
“Listen, I have a friend who’s a registered nurse. I’m going to call her, okay? Are you hungry?”
“Yes, I am hungry. I don’t know how long I’ve been locked in this basement. And aren’t you going call the police?”
Jesse stopped and thought about it. If he called the police they’d take his father away for sure. Could he really let that happen? His father had screwed up for sure, but how could he turn him in? He looked down upon a battered and bruised Taylor Hanson.
How can I not turn him in? Shit!
How he could feel any loyalty to the man that had beaten him up on several occasions was beyond his comprehension, but somehow it was there. He loved his father.
That doesn’t change what he’s done.
“Dammit!” he screamed in frustration. “Listen, let me handle one thing at a time. I have a cheeseburger upstairs. Sound good?”
“Yes, thank you.”
“I’ll be right back.”
Jesse rushed up the stairs. The kitchen seemed to be spinning around in circles. This was just too weird. His Dad was a felon!
Why, Dad? Why?
He sat down at the kitchen table trying to make sense of it all.
What could he possibly want with Taylor Hanson?
Sure, he’d made fun of them when they’d sung the National Anthem at the World Series and made it very public that he thought they were a bunch of “no-talent pansies” but kidnapping? Why would he do it?
What am I going to do?
From the nether-regions of his sub-conscious, a memory flooded his mind. His father, in a drunken rage, the day he’d failed high school calculus.
“Worthless piece of shit!” Abraham Lake screamed, holding the report card in his hand.
Whack!
‘”Dad, please! I’m sorry!” Jesse said, backing away.
“Don’t you run away from me you little screw-up!”
His father chased him to his bedroom.
Whack!
Jesse had come away from that scene with a black eye and a bloody nose. That had been one of the many times his father had beaten him – one of the many reasons he was going away to college in Oklahoma.
“Then why the hell am I trying to save his lousy ass?”
He retrieved his dinner from the dining room table and returned to the basement. “Here you go, Taylor.” Jesse handed him the McDonald’s bag and cup. “I’m gonna go make a phone call and get you the hell out of here. I’ll be right back.”
Taylor smiled. “Thanks – uh – I don’t even know your name.”
“Jesse. Jesse Lake.”
“Thank you, Jesse.”
Without responding, Jesse turned and made his way up the stairs and into the kitchen.
Diana Hanson was resting quietly. She’d fallen asleep the moment her head hit the pillow. Walker was thankful that she was sleeping. He, Noah, Ike, and Zac quietly talked as not to wake her up.
“So, Noah,” he began, “I guess you know what’s going on.”
“I saw the Zacman in the lobby and he filled me in. I was going to ask how you all were doing, but I’ve already seen.”
“We’re holding up about as well as could be expected under the circumstances.”
"The FBI doesn't have any leads?" Noah asked.
"Oh, yeah," Ike began. He'd just come back from his "cool-down" walk and seemed to have it under control. "They've done a bang-up job! They've arrested Jason, for starters, and then they managed to tackle you to the floor. I'd say that the case is coming along very well."
"Don't start again, Isaac," Walker warned. "No, they don't know anything more. We're just praying that something will happen. We sure could use a break here."
"What exactly happened?" Noah asked.
"Well, Tay wanted to go Rollerblading in the park and we didn't think there would be a problem if Jason went with him. I just told them to be back by dark. Dark came and no Tay. I received a phone call from the guy who supposedly took him. He wants me and Zac to meet him at some bus stop on Thornton Road tomorrow –“
“Thornton Road?” Noah interrupted. “I live on Thornton Road. What bus stop?”
“In front of –“ Walker checked his notes, “Westfork Industrial Park.”
“Holy cow! I live like a mile from there! Did he make any ransom demands?”
“None. I can’t figure out what his deal is. Why wouldn’t he demand something for Taylor?”
“It sounds to me like he’s scared and doesn’t really know what to do.” Noah thought for a moment. “Walker, do you have any idea who this clown might be?”
“None, whatsoever. Although –“ he stopped. “His voice did sound awfully familiar.”
“I’m sorry, Walker, go on with your story.”
“Oh, yeah, well, Jason says that he had a hard time keeping up and that he kept his eye on him until Taylor disappeared into a wooded area of the park. Jason went into that same wooded area to cut him off and got knocked over the head.”
"Then why on earth did they arrest him?"
Isaac answered. "Some witnesses reported seeing the both of them enter the wooded area and not come out. They also said that they heard a struggle."
"But Jason would never do anything like that!"
"I know it's crazy, Noah, but they feel like that's enough to hold him under suspicion." Isaac said. "Personally, I think it sucks."
"Yeah, Isaac, we know," Zac said, giggling. "So does the mirror."
Isaac smiled. "I'd almost forgotten about the mirror."
"Well," Walker began, "we haven't. You're going to pay for that, young man. I'm going to have a heck of a time explaining that broken mirror to the manager."
"The lamp, Dad," Zac said. "Don't forget about the lamp."
Walker rolled his eyes. "Thank you, Zachary."
"You don't have any of those angels up your sleeve, do you?" Ike asked.
Noah smiled. "No, I'm afraid not." He swallowed hard. "Listen, guys, I have to tell you the real reason I came down here." All eyes were on Noah, now. He didn't know how to tell them that he was here to exploit their son's kidnapping. "I got a call from my editor this evening. He had heard a rumor that something was going on down here with you guys. Uh, I came down here to get a story."
He stopped, trying to register their reaction. They were stonefaced.
"But when I got here I realized that I just couldn't betray the trust you've placed in me. You guys mean a lot to me -- you saved my life, for crying out loud. I guess what I'm trying to say is, if the paper gets the story, it won't be from me. Even if it means losing my job."
"Well, Noah, we certainly appreciate your loyalty. And it's really good to see you again."
"Thanks, Walker, it's good to see you too."
"How's Jennifer?" Ike asked.
"She's fine, Isaac," Noah responded. Jennifer was Noah's younger sister. She had taken a shine to Isaac when they all had first met. "She swears she's gonna marry you someday."
They all laughed as Isaac turned red.
"How can I help, Walker?" Noah asked.
He sighed before responding. "I can't think of a darn thing, Noah, other than pray."
"I've got that covered, Walker, trust me."
"So, tell us, Noah," Walker said, "how are you doing?"
"Well, pretty okay. Sarah and I are really happy together. I have you guys to thank for that. She loves her job at the hospital. And I love my job at the paper - at least I did love my job. But your friendship means more to me than that."
"Thanks, Noah. We're glad to have you in our lives also. How's the depression?"
"I take each day at a time - some are better than others. At least Marshall, he's my editor, let's me work at home when I'm having a rough time. And, man, Sarah, she's the best. I don't know what I'd do without her."
"Well, Noah, we're glad that things are going well for you. We've thought about you an awful lot. We've prayed for you too."
"Thanks, Walker. I don't know what would have become of my life had it not been for your family. It's amazing - how we met, I mean. Who would have thought that I'd be hanging out with you guys? I can't believe it sometimes. All I can say is, wow!"
"Well, we consider you a part of our family - distant family, but family nonetheless."
He smiled. "I just wish there was something I could do for you guys right now - or for Tay."
Walker smiled and looked at his two sons. “I think there is, Noah.”
“Just name it, Walker.”
“Well, do you think you could get these boys out of our hair for awhile.”
Ike frowned. “Hey!”
“Come on, Ike, I think it would be good for you to get away from all this for. Do you have room, Noah?”
“I think I could find room for these guys.”
Zac smiled. “Cool! A sleep-over!”
Ike just shook his head. “I’m in hell. I’ve died and I’ve entered the fiery circle of hell.”
Sarah Barnes stared solemnly at the cold pizza sitting before her. A half-empty bottle of sparkling grape juice sat beside her, the chill long since gone. She’d needed Noah tonight. She’d needed for him to greet her at the door with a hug and a kiss and tell her about his day; to curl up on the couch with him and watch an old movie on TV. He had this way of massaging her feet that somehow took every bit of tension out of the worst of days. But instead she’d spent the evening with their dog, a stray mutt they’d named Monster.
She’d been to the doctor this morning, something she’d kept from Noah for fear he’d worry too much. The diagnosis she’d received could be considered either bad or good, depending upon the way one looked at it. Sarah was thrilled, she’d never been happier, but Noah wouldn’t be. It had been the subject of their first fight last week.
“We can’t afford a baby, Sarah,” he’d said. “We can barely afford to feed ourselves.”
They’d been having dinner when the subject had come up. A simple discussion turning into World War III, compliments of one of Noah’s mood swings.
“Look around you, Sarah. We live in a one bedroom apartment. This is no place to raise a child.”
“But Noah –“
“End of discussion, Sarah!”
The thought of Noah raising his voice to her made Sarah wince. Living with his depression wasn’t easy, but love meant accepting everything about him. And Sarah loved Noah deeply. She buried her head in her hands and wept.
“Oh, please God, don’t let him be angry with me. Thank You for this miracle.” A warmth suddenly flowed through her body – a peace that hadn’t been there before. She smiled as she cleared the table. Somehow she knew everything was going to be okay.
Sarah chuckled as she closed the pizza box – it brought back memories. They hadn’t been able to afford a honeymoon so they’d spent the night at a downtown hotel. When they saw how much room service charged, they’d ordered a large pepperoni pizza and had it delivered to the room. They’d eaten it over a bottle of sparkling grape juice.
They hadn’t had pizza since then. Sarah had hoped by calling and announcing she was bringing one home for dinner would tip Noah off that something was up – it hadn’t. Of course, he’d been paged by his boss at the paper, so it probably didn’t occur to him.
She knew how excited he got about the chance to work on a real story. He was a totally different person when he was writing. He seemed happier. And anything that made Noah happy made her happy. She laughed.
All the men in the world and I had to marry Clark Kent.
Sarah glanced at the note written in Noah’s shaky script. She knew that doing a story on Hanson would be a thrill for him. The three brothers had done so much for them – saving Noah’s life and their relationship. Getting to see them again at the concert was going to be great.
It amazed Sarah how Hanson had opened their hearts to Noah. It had all started with an e-mail he’d sent. They had taken the time to respond in person – an action which ended up saving his life. As if that wasn’t enough, they’d made the effort to call her at her grandmother’s in Florida and pay for a plane ticket back to Manchester to see their concert with Noah.
Since then they’d kept in touch through phone calls and e-mail. The Hansons had made them a part of their family – even going so far as to send a wedding present and their regrets for not being able to attend.
As she placed the bottle of grape juice in the refrigerator, the phone rang. She let the machine get it since she didn’t like taking calls after dark.
Beep!
“Noah, this is Jesse! Pick up the phone! Come on, man, pick up the damn phone!”
She picked up the handset.
“Jesse?”
“Oh, man, Sarah. Is Noah there?”
“I’m sorry, Jesse, he isn’t here. He went downtown to do a story on Hanson.”
There was silence on the other end.
Click!
“Hello? Hello?”
Puzzled, Sarah set the phone down and continued to clear the table.
Jesse dropped the phone like it was on fire.
Noah’s doing a story about Hanson!
His mind started spinning. What was he supposed to do?
“Dammit! This has to end here!”
He ran down the steps and found Taylor polishing off the last of his Big Mac. “Come on, Taylor, we’re going. Can you walk?”
A small smile formed on his lips. “I’ll dance the Macarena if it means I can get out of here.”
He uncrossed his legs and and put down his Dr. Pepper. He then began the impossible task of trying to stand upright. Rocking his body back and forth, he tried to shift his weight to his legs. He wasn’t having any luck. Jesse couldn’t help but snicker at the waddling motions Taylor was making – he resembled a duck. He walked over and helped Taylor to his feet.
“Here,” he said. “Lean on me, Donald.”
“Donald?”
“Forget it.”
They slowly made their way to the stairs. Each step brought a wince of pain from Taylor.
“I’m sorry about this, Taylor.”
“What’s your old man’s deal, anyway?”
“I wish I knew. But he ceased to be my father years ago. For what it’s worth, he’s done worse to me.”
“Are you serious?”
“I’m afraid so. He broke a couple of ribs once.”
“How could you let him get away with that?”
“What choice did I have, Taylor? He’s my dad, I was in high school, and he was my only living parent. My relatives are no better than he is.”
“What happened to your mom?”
“Long story. Remind me to tell you sometime.” He stopped. “Shit! You don’t remember me, do you?”
“Should I?”
“Well, I grew up in Tulsa. My dad worked for Helmerich & Payne, just like yours. I remember when you guys used to sing at the company stuff. It annoyed the hell out my dad. But, yeah, we used to hang out together at those things. All the kids did.”
Taylor thought for a moment. “Jesse Lake?”
“Yeah, that’s me.”
“I thought you looked familiar. Jeez, your dad always was a hard-nose. Why would he hate us so much?”
“I don’t know, Taylor. I really don’t know. But we better get out of here before –“
“Well, well, well,” a voice said. It was Jesse’s father. “Look what we have here – a screw-up and a fairy.” He had picked up the baseball bat from the top of the stairs and had it propped against his shoulder. “Get your ass upstairs, Jesse.”
“No freaking way, Dad. This ends now.”
“I said get your ass upstairs!”
Jesse moved himself between his father and Taylor.
“Oh, you’re asking for it, Jess.” Abraham clumsily negotiated the steps in his drunken state, keeping the bat ready.
Jesse moved backwards, keeping himself in the middle.
His father was no less than five feet away and he reeked of liquor. “I’m gonna tell you one more time, you miserable, ungrateful little shit. Get your lousy ass upstairs!”
“Dad, I can’t let you do this. I’m not going to let you hurt him again.”
Abraham sneered. “Since when have you told me what I could or could not do, Jesse? Now get upstairs before I –“
“Before you what, Dad? Before you beat the crap out of me. Well, you go ahead, you freaking monster. Because that is what its going to take.!”
Whack!
The bat struck Jesse in the upper arm. He winced but stood his ground. “Is that all you got? You must be getting soft in your old age.” He slammed his fist into Abraham’s jaw.
Abraham stumbled backwards – the force of the punch sending him into a rage. “You little bastard.”
Whack!
Jesse fell to the ground as the bat connected with his leg. He stumbled to his feet and delivered another punch. “You freaking psycho! I hate you!” Tears welled up in his eyes and the pain was unbearable, but he was still determined to fight off his father. “Come on, you son-of-a-bitch!”
Whack!
When Jesse hit the ground this time, he stayed there – Abraham had hit him in the head.
Taylor looked on in sheer terror as Abraham raised the bat to strike Jesse again. Anger boiled inside him, overriding his fear. “Stop it, dammit!”
Abraham was startled by Taylor’s scream. He appeared disoriented for a moment. His eyes met Taylor’s hate-filled gaze. He smiled.
“You want some too, huh? You should have kept your mouth shut. This was a family matter. But you just had to open your little faggot mouth, didn’t you?”
He moved forward towards Taylor, preparing to swing the bat. Jesse tried to stand but couldn’t. Abraham kicked his son in the stomach, causing Jesse to double over.
Taylor was backed into the corner, his eyes wide with fear. He slowly inched himself to the floor, his arms raised in defense.
Stepping over his son, Abraham raised the bat to strike Taylor.
Jesse screamed. “Please stop, Dad! I’ll go upstairs. Just don’t hurt him again.”
Abraham froze. He slowly lowered the bat and stepped backward, his eyes never leaving Taylor. “You keep your freaking mouth shut, you hear me?”
Taylor simply nodded and buried his head between his knees, silently muttering a prayer.
“Get upstairs, Jesse,” Abraham said, grabbing his son by the hair. “Get upstairs now.”
Chapter Six
Chapter Four
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