The One About The Kidnapping (Part One)

September 26, 2006

This is an epic story. It’s one of those stories that I will tell for the rest of my life. Whenever someone asks me what’s the craziest thing that has ever happened to me, I will tell them this story. Or grunt and tell them to read the damn blog.

A little background

I used to do building maintenance in Neptune, NJ during the fall of 2001. My tasks involved sweeping the sidewalks, taking out garbage, vacuuming hallways, etc. It was a fairly menial job, but it paid the bills. I had to carry around a walkie so that when “Mac” called I could do what he wanted. He was the live-in super there. Old guy, real funny. But he didn’t really call much as time went by. In truth, most of the time I hung out in the pool house reading for most of the day. Those were the days.

At the time I was doing a musical in New Brunswick, NJ at the Cabaret Theatre called Blood Brothers. My friend Jay was the director and it was a lot of fun. I didn’t have a leading role of any sort and most of the time I was portraying a child and just being silly. It was a good show and I’d like to think I helped strengthen the ensemble who, too, were strong. I had been having a rough week when this story unfolded. I must have been stressed out about a girl, maybe. Damn you, spacedog. I really can’t remember why, exactly, but I know it was a rough week with tech week and all that. I’d wanted to get up there real early just to relax and go over lines before the show. But, there was going to be a small kink in my plans.

The day before

I was at work one day doing the usual. I was getting hungry so I went down the street to the Wawa where I get my sandwich which is comprised of turkey, munster cheese, mayo, pickles, lettuce and tomato. I return to the quiet poolhouse where I ate my sandwich. I miss Wawa subs. I read a bit more of The Green Mile before I finally got my ass up.

I grab a hose from the shed and start dragging it out to the hookup so I can spray down some walkways. I hear something above me. Sounds like a helicopter, but it’s too low. I look up to see a black helicopter flying awfully low right above me. I thought it odd, so I looked up and made the universal “You got me” shrug. I keep moving. Did some dirty work, blew some leaves, et all.

It was a quiet afternoon. After work, I went back up to New Brunswick for rehearsal and probably played Spades with Meg, Shan, Jon and Matt. An uneventful day, for the most part.

The next day

It was business as usual, except that I needed to meet the kid whose job I took over so that I can give him his final paycheck. I pull up to the condos and park my car. I’m looking for some kid I’ve never seen before , when I see the figure of someone in a parked car. I approach. He’s African American with a decent sized afro. My kinda guy.

I say, “Hey. Jim told me to give you this.” I looked for a response.

“Cool.” he said.

And that was that. I gave him his check, I shook his hand, and I went promptly to the poolhouse before I started working.

Some 15 minutes later, I snatch up some garbage and bring it out to the front near the dumpsters. At this time, I see a resident of the condos who I’ve spoken to before.

“Fine morning.” I said.

She replied that it was, indeed a fine morning, but that it was a shame about all the activity in the area.

Now that she mentioned it, I had noticed the activity. This place is usually dead. The town, the condo, all dead. Most of these people are in Florida in November. I asked her why it was so busy lately, exactly.

She replied, “Didn’t you hear? A little girl was kidnapped from Spring Lake yesterday and they think the guy is from around here.”

I said that I didn’t hear of it and thought to myself, “Hmmmph.”

This was the last thought I had that day that wasn’t to the tune of, “WTF is going on?” At that moment, a dozen unmarked cars ripped into the parking lot, pulled up in front of me with their guns drawn (or not drawn, it happened real fast.)

“Freeze!”

I must have looked behind me, because, surely they weren’t talking to me.

They were.

They were definitely talking to me.

To be continued . . .

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