The Game

Note to Reader: This is a build up chapter, with focus mainly on story. Please understand that I will try to submit further chapters as I go along. Thank you. All characters are 18 years of age or older.

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Living in the country wilderness was a life far removed from that recognizable on the faces of most city folk. I had never known anything other than the outdoors and hoped it would stay that way for as long as I lived. The only criticism that one might have been able to draw was that being isolated from civilization helped to breed ignorance in a global society that was continually changing. For instance, I, for one, had only seen African Americans on TV and the family as a whole was pretty fond of Mr Dibbs. He seemed to be very charismatic and sincere.

As for my family, we were otherwise pretty much extroverted and not particularly clued up on what was going on anywhere else; it just didn't seem important.

I was the only daughter in a family of four, a pretty compact unit altogether. Although the nearest church was 30 miles North in an uphill town called Deep Dale, we prayed to our Jesus on a regular basis each day in some shape or form. Nothing could test our resolve or shake our faith I figured.

Then one day, while we were all outside the house rejoicing in the sun shine we saw three strangers appear from the distance. We thought they were crazy to be walking down the road, since the nearest town along that way was 40 odd miles south. Did they walk all the way by foot?

My dad confronted them with a wave and a 'ho there!' and they peeled off the road and headed towards us. My father's wave kind of died when he noticed that the three dark men were all carrying guns.

'Abilene, guys, head back into the house.' Dad ordered.

We did as we were told. I wanted to stay but my father's word could not be questioned. After a while, I heard a gunshot and feared the worst. We all peered out of the window and saw my dad stumble in with his back to us and arms up in the air; he was retreating ever backwards. It seemed like he had had played their bluff and they had just demonstrated that their barrels were not empty.

The intruders came in with guns raised and politely asked us to sit down. I kept thinking that although they were African American, they were not the kind of folk Sidney Poitier would approve of. One stood by the door and another by us while their boss paced up and down the house making sure no one else was lurking.

'There are only four of us.' My father told him.

The gunman by us wore a cowboy hat that he adjusted before he squatted down to meet my father's eyes. The sounds of quick, heavy footsteps and opening and closing doors could be heard. Moments later the big group leader emerged satisfied and threw the doorman with a scar on his face a hammer. He caught it and made his way out to the porch. The boss swivelled to face us with his breath a little short.

'You have a ... small family, Mr ...?'

'Bill.' My father replied.

'You know, my father was an accountant for the LLC. He used to say -- the only way to be sure of anything is to see for your self.' The man explained.

'I can't argue with that I suppose.' Bill countered.

The sound of nails banging on wooden frames came from outside. My brother pressed against me as it drew closer.

'What in the hell are you doing?'

'Taking out the light.' The man gestured with an elaborate wave of his arms.

In the next hour, everything happened rapidly. They boarded up the house and put us in my brother's room near the back of the house. As the light source diminished and we sat in darkness, there was a feeling that escape was not an option to consider and that our new friends were in no hurry to leave. In fact, they had come with the intention to play a game of will and endurance.

They did not harm us but warned that it would be foolish to attempt escape against three powerful and heavily armed men. My father was shooting from the hip when it came to ideas for a turn around but my mum would just dissolve them all. His determination was commendable and we all felt safe in the knowledge that he would find a way to resolve the situation somehow. The time seemed to accelerate and before we knew it, the hour on my wrist watch read 4am. The first night was a sleepless. Apart from being fed and ignored another day came and went. It was almost as if they were waiting for us to grow tired and weak. After that maybe they would talk and an arrangement could be mutually understood between both parties concerned.

I sat and observed what little activity was in play and tried to keep my father from saying anything that might get us all killed. Every now and again, the man with the hat would look in on us and bring us food and then in the afternoons he would change shifts with the guy who had the scar. We tried talking to them but they told us there would be an announcement in due time. In their favor, they did feed us and although they seemed intimidating, they were becoming less aggressive as time went on. I wondered how they would deal with our food reserves which would last a few weeks maybe. After that, they would have to go out into the forest and hunt or drive for many miles before reaching the nearest diner. But I didn't think they would stay for long. How could they? We weren't rich and we didn't have anything they wanted. Not that I could fathom anyway.

I sat slumped against the wooden wall, holding my brother, Josh in an embrace. He was my 18 year old twin brother though he often acted younger. I stroked his spikey blonde hair and mullet. He normally hated me touching his hair and would growl at me 'stop it Alice!' or try and catch me in the ribs with one of his Manu Chao karate chops. He got these silly fighting techniques from Manu Chao, a character in a low budget TV action series Josh loved. There was the MC claw that had a raking action and the MC grizzly grope which entailed an aggressive grabbing action; I had been a victim of all of them. Still, I didn't miss them right now though, as he was letting me run my fingers through his hair however much I wanted.

I looked around the dim room. All the windows of the house were boarded up and light found narrow gaps around the edges. My mother, Abilene, lay on the bed while my father, Bill, stood by the door with his hands on his hips. He seemed to be in the same state of frustration since day one. Being the man of the house was not easy.

'Abilene, I've just about had enough of this bullshit!' He ranted.

'Bill! Don't curse in front of the kids.'

'Sorry sweet heart.' He said pressing his head against the wall and grinding his fists in frustration. 'I just wish I knew what to do.'

'We all do. But the way your chasing your tail isn't helping.'

My father fell silent and then continued parading around the room as before. My mother's words to him were like those high energy drinks that pumped you up for all of 10 seconds and then left you feeling even more depressed then ever before.

Josh lifted up his head and looked into my blue eyes.

'Alice, so help me, if they so much as lay a hand on you, I'm gonna need you to close those pretty little eyes for me ok.'

'When I open my eyes, I'm gonna see you lying on the floor in a pool of blood is all.' I hissed pulling at his hair affectionately. He yelped and retreated into my bosom.

I was always the realist. Always saying what I felt. Everyone in the family was thick skinned, though Josh had his wimpy days. Sometimes Bill wondered who the girl in the house was; me or Josh. I have to admit, I much preferred the masculine side of my personality and I think Josh secretly preferred the feminine side. I'm not sure if it mattered that we were twins and I came out first. I don't know. He often spoke bravely but his words were usually hollow. Still, if he was a coward he was still my brother whom I loved to bits.

Most of my recent recurring dreams involved some sort of heroism or another. In one of the episodes, he would smash down the door with one kick and tell our captors to leave and that he was only going to ask them once. They would see the anger in his eyes, the menacing pose of his MC claw, and scurry away like they knew what was good for them. I admit they had been gentlemen so far. We were being fed well. If we needed medical attention or to use the toilet they would escort us and help us where necessary. We weren't even tied up. But it had been several days since we last saw daylight and we were all feeling the effects.

'I'm gonna save you.' Josh promised.

He loved me a lot. I was his role model since he came into this world and he was always following me around like a lost dog. I loved the silly boy and new his words had no actions - not unless I commanded him, and I had no intention of doing any such thing.

Abilene propped up on the bed at the sound of footsteps outside the door. It opened and there outside, stood Mr cowboy hat. He peered in and looked at all of us.

'Please follow me.' He said.

We all gathered in the family common room. Here were pictures of Christ, the lord and other religious decorations. All three men stood over us menacingly.

'I think its time for introductions. Nicknames are fine. My name is Daddy. This brother here with the scar on his face is Master and to my left here with the John Wayne themed hat is Jesus.' He explained.

'I'm Abilene.' My mum started 'and this here is my husband Bill. That's my son, Josh and this is my daughter Alice.' She finished.

Daddy looked at his brothers and back at us.

'Ok, shall we begin?' Daddy spoke.

'Begin what exactly?' Bill asked. 'We don't have any money if that's what you're after ... We live off the land mostly.'

'You seem to have misunderstood us sir. We haven't come here for money. That is not a motivation for us. No sir. We came to, lets say ... play a game.'

'Ok. I'm listening.' My father replied.

'As you can see, you are not bound in any way. You are free to move around the house, but should you try to leave, the game will promptly end.'

'Is there a happy ending?'

'Yes. But only for one of us.'

'I don't get it. If you want to kill us you can, we can't fight you.'

'I did not say that only of us would emerge with our lives intact - to the contrary, we could win this game and you would still have your lives.'

'I don't want to hurt anyone.' Bill said.

'The game isn't about violence.'

'But what is it about? How do we play it?'

'You have to figure it out by yourselves. That's the game. You can have as many guesses as you want, but there will be a penalty for wrong answers.'

'What is that?'

'Privileges. On food.'

'So, when does it start?'

'It started when we entered your home sir.'

Master walked up to the family imposingly and ordered them up. 'You will have a chance to voice your assumptions once a day. We will convene again tomorrow.'

With that we were escorted by Master back to our cell. We resumed our original positions like before and this time I shut my eyes and went to sleep.

***

Everyday we guessed we failed. My father accumulated his own ideas and pooled other ones together to try and figure out our captors intentions. When the time came to stand there in the common room and read out our thoughts, it was usually only my father's suggestions. They were all greeted with silence and then the usual nod, which in turn resulted in a reduction in our daily rations. They would do this by weighing the portions that were yet uncooked on a kitchen scale, picking out the odd potato or piece of chicken.

Bill had to develop a more feasible approach regarding the use of our guesses, since it was the only intangible currency we had. The lack of impact on our behalf was taking its toll. Everyone was growing tired but still praying for god to deliver. It was hard to keep track of the time as my watch was eventually confiscated but I'm sure a dozen days had come and gone.

We were losing weight each day. We were losing the game as a result. The assumption was that to guess correctly just once would mean we were the victors. They would then leave and we could get on with our lives again.

I was thinking we had to step up and look smart until I saw my reflection in the bucket of water we received each day. It was not the best image but I could see signs of gauntness and sunken eyes and pretty soon we could all develop anorexia. That seemed like the next stage of our deterioration. The bad news for me was that I was already quite a slim girl and looked like I had lost 2 stones, maybe more. Other factors contributed to our decline such as the heat and lack of light during the day. None of us were particularly hungry after a while and it was funny at times to look upon the faces of my family and laugh. They all looked so silly with their skin sunken into their bones.

Things were usually quiet and there wasn't much to do in between eating, cleaning and thinking. Abilene sat with me back to back while the guys were sound asleep. She was the least effected because she was quite a good sized woman at 14 stones in the beginning. I predicted I would be the first to fall like a bag of bones and meet my maker in the sky.

'Don't lose heart.' She said squeezing my hand.

But she herself was somewhat disheartened about the other day when she saw that they had taken down the pictures of god's landscapes from the common room. But she was strong woman and knew the grace of god would intervene in the final hour. We seemed to rotate our faces to meet each other, and tilt back. Abilene planted a kiss on my lips and then rubbed her face into mine. It was nice to feel some fat on my face for a change. She gazed in to my eyes like she was pondering a thought.

'I was on my back looking up at that ceiling and asking myself, what is it that these big, strong, young men want from us that they can't just take... and it dawned on me.'

Yes ma?' I replied distracted by how beautiful she was.

'They can't take our spirit -- or our innocence. What we represent as a whole. A family that is strong; unbeatable. We would die for each other, but they are different.'

She was right. They couldn't take our spirit, not unless we gave it to them. But to show the strength of our spirit meant that we had to give up our lives. I was not ready to die like this; not like this. Abilene's assumption had to be correct. The three dark gentlemen were not like us; they would not sacrifice their lives for each other. Perhaps that's why they were testing us. They wanted to know how close to evil, goodness was. Whether there was much difference between the two after all, because they were men of Satan that's for sure.

***

The next day we were brought to the common room. They had all but discarded their guns days ago or stashed them somewhere. They looked big as ever while we dragged our skinny asses to the sofa like zombies.

'So, how ARE you guys?' Daddy said in a somewhat patronizing way.

'Not good.' Bill mumbled incoherently.

'Tsk. It looks like the clock is not on your side.' He said tapping his wrist. 'Although your guesses are unlimited, your health is very much finite.'

'I-I have a thought.' Abilene stuttered.

The three men looked at each slightly unsettled -- their shadows appearing to recede. Jesus adjusted his hat from the front and put his hands on his hips.

'Yes ma'am, and what is it pray tell?' Master asked.

'You want to see if you can take something from us - something you can not physically take. Like ... our spirit; our dignity.'

There was a long pause and then Jesus stood up and clapped. He was followed by Master and Daddy.

'Very VERY good!' Daddy laughed.

His brother's joined him to congratulate the Masterson's. Even the Masterson's seemed overly pleased and ecstatic after some hesitation. Everyone began laughing. It was a joyous occasion for they had struck a blow against their captors, and the Masterson family had earned big points. Now their captors could leave.

Bill jumped up in the air and sprayed out high-fives with his son and hugged everyone with tears in his eyes. 'We did it. We won!' After they finished they looked at Daddy. He looked amused but was clearly happy for them.

'Yes, you deserve a pat on the back. You have finally guessed correctly. Now you know why we are here.'

'Yes. Now can we resume our lives again.' Bill said.

Daddy nodded his head in disagreement.

'No sir. This game has just begun. You have guessed why we are here -- The purpose of the game. But that is not all.'

Shoulders quickly slumped. It was a hollow victory and nothing more. We sat there gutted and hollowed out and somewhat stunned. Jesus brought us a feast. This was our reward for guessing correctly. He took our tired souls and bones back to the cell. He told us he wanted to let us go but that he could not question Daddy. The food was a treat and after the first few bites we were eating everything off the plates without our hands like animals. I even licked mine and Josh's plates clean.

'Listen to me.' Jesus whispered. 'What does any sane man crave? Think in that direction.' He said. With that donated clue he was gone. I knew he was a bad man, but Jesus was the friendliest of the three captors, possibly the weak link in his camp.

'What in the heavens does he mean, what men crave?!' Bill growled. He was at wits end. After a series of wild procrastinations, Bill sat himself down and eventually passed out, and Josh was no different, but I and mum were always still stoking each other's mental fires.

'The logic is, If we keep guessing correctly we will get healthier.' Abilene explained. While that was correct it told me that her mind was now moving away from the objective question at hand, which was, what was it exactly that they wanted?

I pretended to drift off so Abilene would take to the bed. One eye cocked open once in a while. Although I could just as easily think with my eyes closed I just preferred my eyes open while I was thinking.

We already knew they wanted our spirit and dignity and innocence, but what exactly did that entail? Jesus had said they wanted what all sane men craved, and my father and brother were sane men so it meant that they too must crave what ever it was.

I knew that women craved chocolate ... but not men. What did Josh crave I asked myself. He loved hunting for one but that wasn't right.

I could only think of one sensible thing:

Food.

He loved food; everyone did. Men especially. If they weren't eating it they were talking about it. I know that Bill and Josh were like that. Bill loved steaks and Josh loved his mother's pies. He loved a lot of mother's food. I have to say though, no one had a larger appetite than me.

I stood up and rapped lightly on the door. I called out with a low voice as to not waken anyone. There was no response. When I tried opening the door, it was unlocked. Jesus had done it intentionally. Still, we were all far too weak to escape now.

I looked left and right and opening the door itself took a few minutes because it had a tendency to creak. I had to wait for external sounds to appear before pushing it more. Where we lived the sounds of cars were uncommon, so we relied on Eagles in the sky to make they're repeated harsh barks, and other animals but to be honest it would be rare at night. I could hear them talking down the hall in the kitchen. I finally crept out and tiptoed towards the end. My feet were splintered and my mind was numb, and the glorious scent of food drifted past me, unrelenting in its seduction.

I squatted down and looked through the key hole. I could see them sitting on the dining table, setting it all up. So these guys were late night eaters like me. I wasn't sure I liked the similarities but it was hard to ignore.