A Nightmare Plays Out In Real Time – Part 2 – “The Race Car Driver”

It was late.  I was thankful that I hadn’t had more than a few drinks but, I was still disoriented from all that was happening.  I didn’t even notice what exit we took from the interstate.  Finally, we were inside a garage and he was leading me into his house all the while telling me again and again that he was a famous race car driver.

Inside, I wanted to immediately use the phone to call my mom and check on my kids.  For some time, he refused to let me use the phone.  After begging, pleading, threatening, yelling, and then crying, he broke down and let me use the phone to call home.  He stood right there with me as I made my call.  The information I received during that phone call chilled my blood.  Harold had gone to the house and was threatening to kill my family… even our children.  My God!  I had to get home.  I had to go to them right then!  Why wouldn’t this man listen to me?  Why was he refusing to take me home or let me tell my mother where I was so that she could come get me?

He took the phone from me and turned on the sweetest voice you’d ever heard.  He told my mother that he had rescued me and that he would keep me safe and that he thought the last place I should be was at home.  He said that Harold didn’t know where I was and couldn’t get to me.  No shit.  I didn’t even know where I was.  But, I knew where I should be.  I should have been home with my kids protecting them.

Why was this man so hell-bent on keeping me with him?  Was he really trying to help me?

I was so confused.  I kept replaying the night’s events over in my head.  All the while this man is insisting he’s a professional race car driver and that he was going to keep me safe.  I knew the name he gave me and was wishing I’d paid more attention to what the guys looked like instead of just their cars.  He talked about racing… cars… other drivers.  Was he really who he said he was?  Harold’s brother-in-law worked for Kyle Petty so I knew a little information about some of the drivers… but, I’d never focused on anyone’s face.  This guy did seem to know quite a bit that coincided with what my brother-in-law had shared with me.  Things that only the drivers and pit crews see and hear.  Could it be?  I had no idea what to believe.

All I knew for sure is that I was worried sick about my kids and mom and brother.  Harold had told them he’d kill them all.  I was scared.  I wanted to be with them.  I wanted to believe that he was only messed on up something and wouldn’t really hurt them.  I wanted to know that they were safe.  I wanted to know that he was coming down off of whatever he was on.

What had Mom said?  Harold had called her saying he needed her to pick him up.  She did and that’s when she found out about the wreck.  Why did the deputies not arrest him?  Why did they IGNORE the fact he was reeking of alcohol and obviously hyped up on some drug?  Why did they let him go?

When they had gotten back to her house, she said he went wild insisting that she tell him where I was.  She didn’t know.  Hell, I didn’t even know.  But, at that point she really had no idea what had happened or where I was.  He then ranted about killing us all and that he would wait across the street at the school to see when I came home.  My poor brother and his girlfriend waited up all night watching out the front window for him.  Thank God they were able to make him leave the house… but, I hated that they weren’t sure if he’d be back or not.

Meanwhile, I was taken to the living room where tapes of pre-qualifying and such were playing on the TV.  I noticed mail sitting on the coffee table in front of us and he snatched it up before I could read the name or… address.  *sigh*  He pointed to the TV and told me to watch.  There was a lot of footage that made the tape appear to be “home-made”.    It was mostly of the cars, though.  From time to time he would say, “There I am” as a car would come into the shot and talk about how the car was loose or hot or whatever.  I was only half listening as I was trying to make sense of everything.  I felt like I was caught in a nightmare and this couldn’t possibly be real.

I remember realizing all of a sudden that he was talking about my husband again.  I told him I didn’t care about anything and I just wanted to go home.  I wanted to go home!  Home!  He reached beside him and pulled out a small pistol to show me.  Where did that come from?  When did he put a gun by his side?  WHAT THE HELL WAS GOING ON?  He alternated between telling me how I was NOT going home, and then telling me how he would protect me.  My head hurt.  I was scared.  I didn’t know what to think… about anything… anyone… anymore.

How did this night get so screwed up?  What did I do wrong?  Did I create this mess I was in?

Hours passed as he continued to talk about racing and keeping me safe… keeping the gun either in his hand or on his lap pointed in my direction.  Even the couple of times I had to use the bathroom, he was standing just outside with the gun and would only let the door close enough at an angle that I wasn’t in full view.

After several hours, he finally said that it was time for us to get some rest.  He had me go with him as he pulled a nightie out of the closet.  (Who hangs up nighties?)  It was completely sheer except for small patches over the breasts and crotch area.  Did he think I was putting on this thing?  I refused to wear it.  At first he was angry and waving around the gun a little more wildly.  But, then… he calmed down and told me to just get into bed as he stripped down to his underwear.  I told him that I was not sleeping with him… or doing anything else, for that matter.  I told him he’d just have to go ahead and shoot me.  After arguing for some time, he finally told me to just get in bed and go to sleep.  I laid down on top of the covers still fully clothed and on the edge of the bed furthest away from him.  He laid facing me and with the gun still in his hand.  I questioned what if he accidentally fired the gun in his sleep.  He took his finger off the trigger, but still held a tight grip.  I laid there waiting for him to fall asleep.  I didn’t know exactly what my plan was for once he did, but I waited.  I laid there thinking about how the doors had keyed deadbolts on them that he had locked as soon as we arrived and put the keys… where?  Where were the keys?  Grrrrrrrrr… I didn’t know where the keys were.  I could at least use the phone … no, wait.  There was only the phone in the kitchen and he had taken that off the wall after he let me use it.  Where did he put it?  *sigh*

I was so tired.  I was exhausted and sleepy.  I just wanted to close my eyes and sleep.  I just wanted to rest for a bit.  I would close my eyes to rest but only for a minute.  Oh, that felt so good.  Closing my eyes felt good.  I opened them again only to find him still staring at me.  I would just rest my eyes until he fell asleep and then try to figure out what to do.

I would just… close my eyes… long enough… for him… to… fall… asleep.