The Power of a Choice
Copyright 2010 Tamara Peachy
As the money floated down to the bottom of the wishing fountain, I marveled that my baby girl already had aspirations. She was only three, but still genuine expectancy radiated from her confident smile. She had a secret wish tucked in her heart and believed in her two magical pennies.
Beads of water dripped from her blonde curls. She splashed the water with her delicate hand. Her laughter seemed to bounce off the water and amplify. Several other children were tossing pennies into the fountain. Their youthful excitement was great entertainment.
A thunderous truck engine interrupted the children’s sweet voices. I glanced behind me to see the man driving the truck. Judging from his expression, I assumed he was lost. He was saying something, but I couldn’t hear him over the engine.
I lifted Sadie onto my hip. She nestled her head into my shoulder. Her grip tightened around my neck.
“It’s alright Sadie. Mommy is going to help this nice man.”
I reached the truck and lowered Sadie to the ground. She whimpered and wrapped her miniature arms around my right leg. I patted her soft curls and tried to reassure her with a motherly smile. Sadie’s eyes shifted toward the driver and grew in speculation. The driver’s expression tightened as he looked me up and down.
“Sorry to bother you ma’am. I am looking for Wade Road. I can’t find it.”
“Wade Road? I don’t think I know that road. I have lived here in Midland, Texas for awhile, but I don’t recall a Wade Road,” I answered truthfully.
I noticed a skinny, red-haired man sitting in the passenger seat. He didn’t acknowledge me; he only stared straight ahead. I returned my gaze to the driver. His eyes were blood-shot, and his black hair was greasy and disheveled.
Suddenly, the man opened his driver-side door, knocking me to the ground. I hit the pavement hard, scrapping my back. I heard the truck door slam and then heard the wheels peel.
“Sadie,” I called.
No answer.
…………………
The phone rang. It startled me, but Warren was a rock and refused to be intimidated. He insisted he should be the one to negotiate with the kidnappers. Warren approached the phone like a soldier. His chest was high, his shoulders tense, and his walk had a noticeable rhythm.
“Hello, this is the Byus’s residence.”
Warren’s eyes darted my way. His facial expression confirmed that these vial men finally made contact. Warren was convinced I was too emotional to handle the situation. I leaned in to hear the conversation.
“I’m not comfortable with that,” Warren said into the phone.
My brave husband shook his head and dropped his chin. He sighed deeply and extended the phone to me. I tried to take hold of it, suddenly realizing my body was paralyzed by fear and grief.
“He wishes to speak to you only. I think we should do whatever he asks. Tell him I am willing to give him anything he wants,” Warren said this while tenderly placing the receiver into my hand.
I looked into my husband’s eyes, hoping his composure and strength would enter my troubled heart. The receiver felt cold in my hand. I raised it to my ear and heard the kidnapper’s faint breath.
“This is Emily Byus. We have money saved. We will give you whatever you want. We just want our Sadie back.”
“Dr. Byus, Dr. Emily Byus. Money is not our concern. Our ransom will be a unique request. One I hope you will be eager to pay.”
The man’s voice was methodical, each word deliberate, and of a low register. I knew he couldn’t be either of the men I saw the day of the kidnapping. He was the organizer, the leader…the faceless enemy.
My mind started to race. I tried to unravel what his motivations could be for kidnapping Sadie. I had money; I was willing to give him every last cent. My heartbeat quickened as I realized this kidnapper wouldn’t be swayed by a large bag of cash. Facing an unknown bargaining price made my palm’s sweat.
“Dr. Byus, do you know how many abortions are performed in America on an average day? You work in an abortion clinic; I assume you know this statistic,” the kidnapper asked.
My eyelids flinched, and my mouth suddenly went dry. This voice belonged to a radical Christian, an intolerant conservative, or some pro-life extremist. I knew working at the clinic was dangerous, but I never expected anyone would kidnap Sadie on account of my career choice. My mind was envisioning various violent scenarios, and I completely forgot I was having a conversation with the kidnapper.
“Dr. Byus? Are you still there? Do you know the answer to my question?”
“Yes, I know the statistic. Approximately 3,700 abortions are performed each day in our nation.”
“Good. I am glad you are educated on this matter. Now, do you consider this number to be acceptable and reasonable?”
“Yes, considering we have almost three million people living in the US alone. This is a small percentage, and the abortion rate is declining. But, I fail to see how this relates to getting my daughter back. Please don’t hurt her.”
“Since you consider 3,700 abortions per day to be a reasonable and acceptable number, I have concluded the ransom for Sadie will be 3,700 babies a day. If you fail to bring us 3,700 babies in twenty-four hours, the ransom will double to 7,400 babies. It will continue to increase every twenty-four hours until you pay the amount.”
“You know I can’t possibly give you 3,700 babies in twenty-four hours. I couldn’t give you 3,700 babies, even if I had a lifetime. We have money; we are willing to pay you anything.”
“I don’t need money, Dr. Byus. Don’t be so modest. We both know you have the power over life and death. You decide if babies will live or die. You have the power of choice. If you can choose to abort a baby, surely you can choose to create one as well.” After that condescending statement, the kidnapper hung up.
I dropped the phone receiver in the dark atmosphere of grief. I sank to my knees and knew I would never see Sadie again. The man was psychotic, a dangerous intellectual, and a serious activist. Warren embraced me from behind and kissed the back of my head.
Warren witnessed a protester threatening to cut out a doctor’s eyes. According to the protester, the doctor was already spiritually blind; he might as well be physically blind. After that incident, Warren told me he would understand if I quit.
“Emily, sweetheart. What is the ransom? Don’t worry. We’ll pay it. Whatever it is, we’ll pay it,” Warren said trying to reassure me.
“Warren…they don’t…they don’t want money,” I said between gasps of air.
“What do they want?”
“They are pro-life! They are using my precious Sadie to make a cheap political statement.”
…………………
Three days had passed since the first phone call. We sent out an Amber alert, conducted dog hunts, and plastered sketches of the two men all over our town. The ransom was now $11,100 babies. I collapsed on the living room couch in defeat.
I kept envisioning the day of the kidnapping, the wishing fountain particularly. The two pennies hit the surface of the water, making a little splash. Then those two pennies were tossed by the current, only to come to the bottom for their final rest. Sadie believed in her magical pennies. The wish in my heart was Sadie’s safety. Two pennies wouldn’t suffice now, no amount of money would.
The phone rang.
Warren was speaking with the sheriff at the station; I went to answer.
“Hello, Byus’s residence.”
“Dr. Byus, I haven’t received my payment.”
“I’m sorry. I can’t give you what you want. If I could, you would have it in your possession right now.”
“Well maybe, we can renegotiate,” he said with a businessman-like tone.
I felt relief. My eyes were burning from past tears; nevertheless, the kidnapper’s desire for renegotiation helped ease the tightness in my chest. I straightened my shoulders, hopeful to gain some control of the situation. I was hoping he was in the mood to be gracious.
“Instead of 11,100 babies, I can simply take one. Just one. Sadie. That seems reasonable.”
My childish hope died.
“Please, give my Sadie back,” I begged.
The kidnapper laughed sadistically. He took pleasure in my pain.
“Doctor Byus, you seem to underestimate the power of a choice. Truth is relative, isn’t it? Morality should never be forced on anyone, including kidnappers. Keeping Sadie is convenient for me. I rather like your little girl. I choose to keep her.”
Copyright 2010 Tamara Peachy
As the money floated down to the bottom of the wishing fountain, I marveled that my baby girl already had aspirations. She was only three, but still genuine expectancy radiated from her confident smile. She had a secret wish tucked in her heart and believed in her two magical pennies.
Beads of water dripped from her blonde curls. She splashed the water with her delicate hand. Her laughter seemed to bounce off the water and amplify. Several other children were tossing pennies into the fountain. Their youthful excitement was great entertainment.
A thunderous truck engine interrupted the children’s sweet voices. I glanced behind me to see the man driving the truck. Judging from his expression, I assumed he was lost. He was saying something, but I couldn’t hear him over the engine.
I lifted Sadie onto my hip. She nestled her head into my shoulder. Her grip tightened around my neck.
“It’s alright Sadie. Mommy is going to help this nice man.”
I reached the truck and lowered Sadie to the ground. She whimpered and wrapped her miniature arms around my right leg. I patted her soft curls and tried to reassure her with a motherly smile. Sadie’s eyes shifted toward the driver and grew in speculation. The driver’s expression tightened as he looked me up and down.
“Sorry to bother you ma’am. I am looking for Wade Road. I can’t find it.”
“Wade Road? I don’t think I know that road. I have lived here in Midland, Texas for awhile, but I don’t recall a Wade Road,” I answered truthfully.
I noticed a skinny, red-haired man sitting in the passenger seat. He didn’t acknowledge me; he only stared straight ahead. I returned my gaze to the driver. His eyes were blood-shot, and his black hair was greasy and disheveled.
Suddenly, the man opened his driver-side door, knocking me to the ground. I hit the pavement hard, scrapping my back. I heard the truck door slam and then heard the wheels peel.
“Sadie,” I called.
No answer.
…………………
The phone rang. It startled me, but Warren was a rock and refused to be intimidated. He insisted he should be the one to negotiate with the kidnappers. Warren approached the phone like a soldier. His chest was high, his shoulders tense, and his walk had a noticeable rhythm.
“Hello, this is the Byus’s residence.”
Warren’s eyes darted my way. His facial expression confirmed that these vial men finally made contact. Warren was convinced I was too emotional to handle the situation. I leaned in to hear the conversation.
“I’m not comfortable with that,” Warren said into the phone.
My brave husband shook his head and dropped his chin. He sighed deeply and extended the phone to me. I tried to take hold of it, suddenly realizing my body was paralyzed by fear and grief.
“He wishes to speak to you only. I think we should do whatever he asks. Tell him I am willing to give him anything he wants,” Warren said this while tenderly placing the receiver into my hand.
I looked into my husband’s eyes, hoping his composure and strength would enter my troubled heart. The receiver felt cold in my hand. I raised it to my ear and heard the kidnapper’s faint breath.
“This is Emily Byus. We have money saved. We will give you whatever you want. We just want our Sadie back.”
“Dr. Byus, Dr. Emily Byus. Money is not our concern. Our ransom will be a unique request. One I hope you will be eager to pay.”
The man’s voice was methodical, each word deliberate, and of a low register. I knew he couldn’t be either of the men I saw the day of the kidnapping. He was the organizer, the leader…the faceless enemy.
My mind started to race. I tried to unravel what his motivations could be for kidnapping Sadie. I had money; I was willing to give him every last cent. My heartbeat quickened as I realized this kidnapper wouldn’t be swayed by a large bag of cash. Facing an unknown bargaining price made my palm’s sweat.
“Dr. Byus, do you know how many abortions are performed in America on an average day? You work in an abortion clinic; I assume you know this statistic,” the kidnapper asked.
My eyelids flinched, and my mouth suddenly went dry. This voice belonged to a radical Christian, an intolerant conservative, or some pro-life extremist. I knew working at the clinic was dangerous, but I never expected anyone would kidnap Sadie on account of my career choice. My mind was envisioning various violent scenarios, and I completely forgot I was having a conversation with the kidnapper.
“Dr. Byus? Are you still there? Do you know the answer to my question?”
“Yes, I know the statistic. Approximately 3,700 abortions are performed each day in our nation.”
“Good. I am glad you are educated on this matter. Now, do you consider this number to be acceptable and reasonable?”
“Yes, considering we have almost three million people living in the US alone. This is a small percentage, and the abortion rate is declining. But, I fail to see how this relates to getting my daughter back. Please don’t hurt her.”
“Since you consider 3,700 abortions per day to be a reasonable and acceptable number, I have concluded the ransom for Sadie will be 3,700 babies a day. If you fail to bring us 3,700 babies in twenty-four hours, the ransom will double to 7,400 babies. It will continue to increase every twenty-four hours until you pay the amount.”
“You know I can’t possibly give you 3,700 babies in twenty-four hours. I couldn’t give you 3,700 babies, even if I had a lifetime. We have money; we are willing to pay you anything.”
“I don’t need money, Dr. Byus. Don’t be so modest. We both know you have the power over life and death. You decide if babies will live or die. You have the power of choice. If you can choose to abort a baby, surely you can choose to create one as well.” After that condescending statement, the kidnapper hung up.
I dropped the phone receiver in the dark atmosphere of grief. I sank to my knees and knew I would never see Sadie again. The man was psychotic, a dangerous intellectual, and a serious activist. Warren embraced me from behind and kissed the back of my head.
Warren witnessed a protester threatening to cut out a doctor’s eyes. According to the protester, the doctor was already spiritually blind; he might as well be physically blind. After that incident, Warren told me he would understand if I quit.
“Emily, sweetheart. What is the ransom? Don’t worry. We’ll pay it. Whatever it is, we’ll pay it,” Warren said trying to reassure me.
“Warren…they don’t…they don’t want money,” I said between gasps of air.
“What do they want?”
“They are pro-life! They are using my precious Sadie to make a cheap political statement.”
…………………
Three days had passed since the first phone call. We sent out an Amber alert, conducted dog hunts, and plastered sketches of the two men all over our town. The ransom was now $11,100 babies. I collapsed on the living room couch in defeat.
I kept envisioning the day of the kidnapping, the wishing fountain particularly. The two pennies hit the surface of the water, making a little splash. Then those two pennies were tossed by the current, only to come to the bottom for their final rest. Sadie believed in her magical pennies. The wish in my heart was Sadie’s safety. Two pennies wouldn’t suffice now, no amount of money would.
The phone rang.
Warren was speaking with the sheriff at the station; I went to answer.
“Hello, Byus’s residence.”
“Dr. Byus, I haven’t received my payment.”
“I’m sorry. I can’t give you what you want. If I could, you would have it in your possession right now.”
“Well maybe, we can renegotiate,” he said with a businessman-like tone.
I felt relief. My eyes were burning from past tears; nevertheless, the kidnapper’s desire for renegotiation helped ease the tightness in my chest. I straightened my shoulders, hopeful to gain some control of the situation. I was hoping he was in the mood to be gracious.
“Instead of 11,100 babies, I can simply take one. Just one. Sadie. That seems reasonable.”
My childish hope died.
“Please, give my Sadie back,” I begged.
The kidnapper laughed sadistically. He took pleasure in my pain.
“Doctor Byus, you seem to underestimate the power of a choice. Truth is relative, isn’t it? Morality should never be forced on anyone, including kidnappers. Keeping Sadie is convenient for me. I rather like your little girl. I choose to keep her.”
Comments