Tim and Fluffy had spent the last five hours getting to know one another, but the canine didn't seem any friendlier. In fact, it seemed that his loathing of Tim had only increased during their time spent with one another. Were it not for the fact that Fluffy was on a leash and attached to a hook on the wall, Tim would most likely have been the dog's next meal. Having Fluffy snapping at him made his initial experience with Jethro seem like nothing.
True to her word, Lizzie had untied him and left him with Fluffy while she tended to some work. Unfortunately, the only things he had in the room to pass the time were a radio that only seemed to be getting a country station and the copy of his book. He was in no mood to read his own novel, especially when it only served as a reminder that Thom E. Gemcity had gotten him into this mess in the first place.
Patsy Cline's voice wafted through the air and Tim sat on the bed, shivering. His clothes were still wet according to Lizzie, so he had only the itchy blanket to keep him warm. Beside him on the bed was an empty plate that had held his lunch – a bologna sandwich with mayonnaise and mustard and a Twinkie – and, on the nightstand, was a newly filled glass of water. The room had no bathroom, but Lizzie had placed a bucket in one corner, telling him that she would empty it out for him when she finished up her work. It had taken everything Tim had inside of himself to not vomit. Lizzie, seeing his disgust, had told him that, when she was growing up, she'd had the chore of emptying their outhouse and, therefore, was used to it.
"Arf! Arf! Grr!" Fluffy shouted.
"Do you ever shut up?" Tim asked.
"Arf! Arf arf arf!" Fluffy responded.
"I didn't think so."
"Arf arf arf arf arf arf! Rawr!"
"Hey, don't blame me; blame your master! I don't want to be here! If I could leave, I would!"
He fell back on to the bed, pulling the blanket around his body. "Great, now I'm talking to a dog. Her craziness must be rubbing off on me."
"Arf! Arf arf!"
"Yes, she is crazy. Don't deny it!"
"Are you two getting along?"
Tim sat up as Lizzie appeared at the door. Fluffy, at the sight of his master, sat demurely, his ears pressing back against his head. He looked up at her sweetly and she rewarded him with a head pat.
"Good, boy! I knew you two would love each other."
"He wants to eat me."
"He just wants to make sure you don't leave."
He narrowed his eyes at her, pulling the blanket further around him. "Where are my clothes?"
"Still drying."
"I'm freezing!"
"Well, that's because it's still raining outside. At this rate, we may have a flood on our hands."
Tim perked up at hearing that. "Doesn't that mean we'd have to leave?"
"Nah. We're too high up to really worry about flooding."
Lizzie switched the radio off and took her seat beside the bed. "Well, now that I've gotten my work out of the way, let's get to know each other. Tell me about yourself."
He shot her a withering glare. "Well, my likes are my freedom, being home, and having the ability to flush my bodily wastes down a toilet. My dislikes are being held prisoner, having a vicious dog barking at me for hours on end, and sitting around in my boxer shorts when it's freezing."
Despite the acerbic tone in his voice, Lizzie just let out a raucous laugh. "I see you've got yourself a nice sense of humor."
"It's wearing thin."
She ignored the comment and continued. "So I know that you write and you mentioned something about being an agent."
"A federal agent," he interrupted. "Which makes kidnapping me a federal offense."
"I don't know much about the government. I keep mostly to myself around here. I've lived here my entire life. It was just me and Poppa. Then when he passed away I just stayed here. In fact, this used to be my room."
"And how do you make money?"
"Oh, I sell my crochets to people in town. I drive up every other Wednesday to make my sales and to buy whatever I need. Poppa left behind a whole closet full of clothing, so I don't need much more than food."
"What about when something breaks?" he asked. If he could slyly break one of her appliances, she may call someone out here to fix it and that person might help him.
"Oh, I don't worry much about appliances and technology. If something breaks I just do without it."
Tim was tired of beating around the real issue. "Lizzie, just tell me why you decided to hold me prisoner here."
"I never had much of a chance to meet boys growing up. Poppa didn't approve of me dating. He threatened to shoot any boy who set foot on this property. That made it kind of hard to get dates."
"I would imagine so." He gently rubbed the bridge of his nose. A headache was forming and he wasn't in the mood to deal with all of this. "Look, I'm sorry that your father didn't let you date, honestly I am. But you can't use me to relive your adolescent years, especially when I'm here against my will.
"Why don't you just try going out into town and start dating?" he suggested. "If you get a computer, you could even find online websites that will help match you with someone. I mean, there's got to be someone out there who would want to date you." At least, I hope there is, he added silently in his mind
Lizzie wasn't swayed. "Thom, have you ever gone hunting?" He shook his head. "Have you ever gone fishing?"
"Ah…maybe once…"
"The most prized animals are the ones that are the most difficult to catch. You don't want to catch the ones that anyone can get; you want the ones that only a select few can get."
"…are you comparing dating to hunting?"
"I'm saying that I don't settle for something that any other person can get. I like a challenge; I like the idea of taking something wild and taming it and breaking it in."
Tim gulped at the word "breaking." Something about the way she said it was very unsettling for him. She obviously regarded him more as prey than an actual human being. "You can't treat me like a wild animal that you domesticate."
"Oh, Thom, I was just making a point. I just don't want to give up something really good when I've got it."
"But what you've got doesn't belong to you!"
"Oh, don't be such a whiner. People take in stray dogs and cats every day without anyone accusing them of doing anything wrong. How is taking you in any different than owning a pet?"
"I am not a pet!" he bellowed. He felt the anger rising inside and he shot up, half-ready to throw this crazy woman to the side and make his escape.
Lizzie regarded him without any fear in her eyes. "Fluffy!" she called, snapping her fingers. In a snap, the dog was on its feet, once again straining at its leash to attack Tim. This time, though, it looked as though the leash may break at any moment.
Startled by Fluffy's newfound vigor, Tim fell back on to the bed, pushing himself far back against the headboard. Seeing that his burst of spunk was gone, Lizzie patted Tim atop the head. "Good boy."