Part 5: A Romeo & Juliet story
The next day, John Arntzen waited to hear from Samantha. Evening came with no word from her, and he worried. Then the phone rang. He picked up. It was Samantha. The two had traded phone numbers because they felt that there was no longer a point in keeping their relationship a secret from his uncle and Mr. Spender.
Samantha sounded agitated on the phone. Something was wrong. She told John to meet with her right away. He left the house immediately, dodging his uncle who was shouting at him to stay for supper.
John and Samantha met in distress on a field near the base. Samantha was forced to bring Jeffrey with her. Jeffrey was Mr. Spender's son. He was nine-years old and annoying. Many times when Samantha left the house, she was forced to bring him with her. John hated him.
After telling Jeffrey to sit and wait on the field, Samantha and John wondered off into the distance where they could not be seen. They sat down on the grass, under the very tree where they had first talked. The sun was just setting. It was a beautiful, but fading sight, which reflected their dying love. Samantha took John's hand. She had something urgent to tell him.
"Jeffrey may have been told by his father to tell him everything we do," she said.
"He can't hear us over here," he assured. "Don't worry about him. What's the matter?"
Samantha leaned forward and gave John a passionate kiss. She looked as if the world was ending.
"They took me again last night!" she yelped. "They returned me here later on. I don't know why they did. But I sense that they are going to take me again very soon... for good this time. We don't have very much longer together."
Tears ran down from Samantha's face. The girl was so afraid, and John could do nothing to help her. Is all he could do was love her.
"I'm so sorry," he whispered. "What makes you so sure that they're going to take you for good?"
"Mr. Spender sees you as a threat," she replied. "He knows what I've told you. He's only letting us have a few more hours alone together. He thinks that when I'm gone, your heart will be too broken to harm him."
"How do you know all this?" John asked.
"I just know," she declared.
Then the two wept bitterly together like never before. Both their hearts had been broken.
"If he takes you again, I'll kill him!" threatened John.
Samantha brushed John's words of anger off. It didn't make any difference to her. She hated Mr. Spender and wanted him to die, but with all the pain in her heart she had no room for revenge. She was going to be taken once and for all, and be tortured for what would feel like an eternity... until she died. Being alone, longing for her lover, John, was not something that she wanted to feel either.
"Come with me," she told John.
Samantha stood up and held onto John's hand. He stood up with her.
"We don't have much time," she repeated. "I want you to come with me back to the house. There we can seal our love so it lasts forever."
John and Samantha marched back to the house where Mr. Spender had allowed her to be continuously taken from and abused. Jeffrey Spender tagged a long behind them.
When they reached the house, everything was quiet. Night was approaching and there was only a bit of light left. Mr. Spender had not come home from work yet... wherever it was that he worked during the day.
Outside the house was a side-walk that had been freshly laid with concrete. The concrete had not dried yet. It was Samantha's idea for her and John to lay their hand prints there so that some part of them would always exist together. In Samantha's hand print, John drew a heart, and in John's hand print, Samantha drew a heart. They also allowed Jeffrey to lay his hand print down beside theirs.
After this, the three of them went inside. Mr. Spender was still not home. Samantha and John tucked Jeffrey into bed, and then they went into the room that had been given to Samantha. They lied down on her bed, and John put his arms around her.
"We can't stay here long," John said. "They'll take you again. I gotta protect you... we gotta do something."
"There's no stopping it," replied Samantha. "They'll find me no matter what. We can't escape Mr. Spender. I just want to lay here with you, in your arms."
"I love you," cried John.
"I love you too," she cried back. "I love you so much. You're the only person who ever cared about me, at least that I can remember. I still don't even know my own last name. I'm just a slave."
"You're a princess," he assured her. "... A queen. Never forget how much I love you. Forever, and ever, and ever."
There the two of them lay, with their arms around one another. Hours and hours passed, and they fell asleep.
When John awoke, Samantha was gone. He didn't know whether she had ran away or whether she had been taken. He was asleep the whole time, with his arms around her. It didn't make any sense.
He searched around her room for any clue as to where she went. A note perhaps? Maybe a revelation or document explaining where she may have been taken?
John searched through the drawers on a small desk in her room. He found nothing in them, except for a small diary which she had not even begun to write in yet.
In an angry panic, John left the room, leaving the unused diary on her table. He walked through the hallway, where everything looked in place and well-kept. He passed Jeffrey's room, where he was still tucked in and asleep.
John glanced down to the living room. Mr. Spender was home, sitting on the sofa drinking, and smoking as usual. John took notice of Mr. Spender lifting some kind of vile up to his nose and snorting it.
Mr. Spender did not notice John behind him. John took a step back, and a moment to improvise. He wanted to find a weapon to threaten Mr. Spender with.
Sneakily, and quietly, John rummaged through the house. He took a walk into Mr. Spender's room, and searched through his drawers. In one of them he found a hand gun. He didn't bother to check to see if it was loaded, but he took it and marched back over to the living room where Mr. Spender was still seated.
Like a soldier, John calmly approached Mr. Spender with the gun in hand. He jumped in front of him, pointing the gun in his face, then ripping the cigarette out of his mouth.
"You're a fucking drug-addict!" yelled John. "You're a coke-head... you're crazy! And now I'm going to kill you!"
Mr. Spender stayed calm. He smirked at John, and then lit another cigarette.
"You're lucky I didn't kill you," he muttered. "I saw you sleeping in Samantha's room. I could have removed you... but I didn't feel you were worth it. I know you won't kill me, John. I know your uncle quite well actually, and I know a bit about your family's history. You won't let yourself be a killer like your father. Never. So put down the gun, and let's talk."
Mr. Spender put his hands over John's, lowering the gun. John became calm and he put the gun in the pocket of his jeans. Mr. Spender was clever. He reminded John of why he could never kill.
"I won't kill you," he admitted. "But I'm going to report you to the police."
Mr. Spender laughed, taking another drag off his smoke. John knew that what he had said was indeed a joke. There was nothing he could do... not if he couldn't kill Mr. Spender.
"Report anything, and I'll ruin you," Mr. Spender said. "I'm with the military, the CIA, the FBI, and the police. I own this country. If you try exposing me, you'll die. I could kill you, or even your uncle if I was forced to go far enough."
"You killed her, didn't you?" asked John.
"No," declared the Smoking-Man. "Samantha stands to live forever. She is part of a test that will ensure the survival of all mankind. Don't think that I'm happy about what I have to allow to happen to her... or my own wife."
"Where is she?" he demanded.
"They took her," Mr. Spender declared.
"Who?" John asked again.
"I'm sure she enlightened you of who," he stammered. "You will see her again one day... as will her family. Just don't expect it to be any time soon."
Mr. Spender arose from his seat and put his cigarette out in the ash tray, immediately lighting another one. John was thinking deeply, and he fell back into a chair across from the couch.
"Can I offer you a cigarette?" asked Mr. Spender, offering one out of his pack.
"I'll never touch 'em," muttered John.
"Then at least come work for me," he offered. "I can give you all the answers you dream of, and one day I can reunite you with Samantha."
"I won't work for you, you idiot," insisted John. "You've stolen from me the only person who I ever truly loved. You've threatened me, and my uncle. I'd like to go home now."
John got out of his seat, and took Mr. Spender's gun out of his pocket. He put it on the coffee table where Mr. Spender's coke-supply lay. Then John moved towards the front door.
"Don't dare mention any of this to anybody!" Mr. Spender warned. "Take that into consideration for your sake, and for Samantha's. I'm sure she looks forward to seeing you again."
"Fuck you!" John yelled. Then he left, back for home.
Months passed, and a broken-hearted John Arntzen was still in heartache over his lost love. He noticed the windows of what was once Samantha's room boarded up. He'd often pass the house, wondering if Samantha may be in there... maybe being experimented on.
He'd see Mr. Spender from time to time, but never bothered to talk to him or ask about Samantha. He knew that he would get nothing... no answers. There was no point in even speaking to Mr. Spender's son when he would see him playing out side. The boy could not give him anything either.
John was now in a deep depression... in longing for his young, lost love... the girl who's last name he never even knew.