Think, Steven, Think

(I am trying this one person story for anonymous.  Let me know what you think.)

Steven Mattern

Age 18

Football Captain

Midland Texas High School

Missing now 48 hours

Reward of $10,000.00 for information leading to his whereabouts

 


The posters were all over this small town in Texas.  His parents put up a reward.  His teammates had fanned out all over searching for him.  It was like Steven dropped off the earth.  Missing two practices and now one game without a word... so against his character.  Smart kid, common sense, tough, a good kid and a great friend.  Most tolerated the fact that he had come out of the closet when he was 16.  Except Preacher Holmes, who condemned both Steven and the Midland Area school district for allowing a "pervert" as a model to our children.

His yearbook page showed a young man, confident in himself.  Patriotic, he had joined the Marines upon his graduation in June.  

So a search began, working its way through hundreds of square miles of land, looking for anything that might give a clue of what happened to Steven.

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Preach Holmes completed his third corrective session with Steven.  He would make the kid straight.  He knew God's will and God's methods.  He would beat the "gay" out of him.  He kept smacking the youth on his jeans, pounding his ass.  Then he checked the boys ropes.  Good.  Tight.

"The Sabbath begins, young man.  So I must rest.  You rest too.  Then, on Monday, we begin anew."

Steven lay there in his bonds as he heard the door lock.  The car started and slowly the sound of the motor faded as the Preacher drove away.  Steven screamed again, desperate.  But the gag muffled his terror.

"Twenty-four hours. I can't take this.  I gotta get the fuck outta here."

Steven was desperate.

"Stay calm, Steve, stay calm.  Think.  Think." he spoke to himself.  "There has gotta be a way."

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"Yeah, finally got the Preacher.  He says he has not scene hide nor hair of him.  Territory is too big, even with the high school kids searching.  Better ask the state police for air assets.  This kid could have had an accident and is hurt out there."

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Steven kept scraping his head against the wooden floor.  He had to see.  The preacher had stopped Steven at gun point, put his in his car, and smashed his head.  While unconscious, he had tied him up.  Wide thick duct tape covered his eyes and was around his head several times.  Steven already decided he was bound too tight to get out of the ropes.  He needed to see.  He kept scraping his head until the tape began to move. His sweat helped, for the sweat compromised the adhesive.  He finally got it up on his forehead.

He looked around.

He was in a room of some old house.  There was a boarded up window.  A door was closed.  He looked down at his legs.  There is was.  His chance.  The preacher used most of the rope tying up his hands and arms.

They were fixed securely.  Wrists crossed and tied, elbows and forearms roped together, biceps pulled towards each other, all behind his back.  Ropes from his neck, down his back, circled his chest and gut.  Rope between his teeth, tied behind his head, circled with duct tape, gagging him.

But the preacher only circled the rope quickly around his ankles.

Steven realized that was his chance.  He would forget his arms and gag and work his feet free!

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The area to be searched was near Carty Hill, northwest of the town.  It was steep, dense wooded area.  Air surveillance would help, but the dense woods would make it difficult, even with heat sensors.

The junior varsity and varsity members of the high school's football team waited their instructions.

They would be given GPS and a radio each, and assigned a part of the grid search with the local cops and the state police.  The boys, ages 15 to 18 were desperate to find their buddy and captain, and the authorities knew with their help they would find Steven, for better or for worse.

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Steven had gotten the ropes free around his ankles.  He looked at the window at the end of the room he was held in.

He rolled his bound body around until he was on his back before it.  He accepted the pain from his bound arms and beaten ass.  He began to kick at the wood that sealed the window.  It popped out easily.  He stumbled to his feet.

The light blinded his eyes.  "It's the woods.  Must be Carty hill he thought."  He knew Carty hill, he had played there since he was a kid.  Steep hills and drop-offs   A good 20 miles from Midland.  He did not know the house he was held in, but he had to make a run for it.  Steven had no sense of time.  If it was sunrise, could it be Sunday, and the mad preacher will come and find him.  He would surely torture him if he found him trying to escape.

Steven straddled the window ledge.  There was a puddle of mud below the window.

It would break his fall.

He pushed himself out and splashed in the mud.

"OK.  Not hurt,"  he thought.  Again he struggled to his feet.

"No road.  No trail nothing.  This house was abandoned for a long time.  Think. Think.  Follow the sun."

Steven began to walk toward the sun.  It would be east, the direction of the town.

All of a sudden a sharp pain came from his right arm.  Tied so tightly, they had been numb for hours.  The pain quickly got worse.  He could only move his arms a few centimeters, so tightly had the preach roped them.  He screamed in his gag!  "Shit.  Shit!"  Steven realized some of his luck had left him --- when he fell he had broken his right upper arm!

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Benny moved through the hold house calling out for Steven.  He found a locked door.  He turned the lock and opened it.  It was a small room with a window looking out into the woods.

One the floor though, w wad of duct tape and rope looped and knotted.

"Could somebody have taken Steve and tied him up?  And maybe he tried to escape?"

Benny pulled the radio and announced his findings.  He gave the GPS position and waited as the others began moving to his location.

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The pain from Steven's broken arm was getting worse and worse.  He knew he was going into shock.  He had to keep moving.  "If only I was not all tied up," he thought.  "And gagged.  Can't even yell for help."

He was distracted.

He never saw the cliff....

He fell over and hit the ground hard.  He tried to get up, but collapsed.  Now he knew he also broke his legs.

Steven now knew he luck ran out.  Bound and gagged with two broken legs, he had no chance.  Broken and beaten, he closed his eyes and lost consciousness.

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Gabor was about to give up.  It was getting dark.  He was tired and hungry.  He took a swig of Gator Aid from his backpack.  He called in his position.  He was ordered back to camp.

He heard something.  A low, moaning sound.

He moved to the edge of the cliff.

There, on the ground, was Steven, all tied up.

Gabor screamed his position to the command center.

Then he began to climb down carefully to where Steven was.

"I'm with him. He's alive.  He tells me his right arm and legs are broken.  He is all tied with ropes around his arms.  Should I untie him?"  Gabor knew first aid.  He had carefully moved Steven to a sitting position.  The rope around his arms kept his break in place.  "From what you describe, cut his wrists and elbows free, but leave his upper arms bound.  Use the rope to splint he legs with some branches.  EMS is a good hour from you."

Gabor splinted up the captain.  He gave him the remained of his Gator aid.

Steven was shaking.  His hands were still behind his back.

Gabor pulled off his short and wiped the sweat and blood from his face.  The rope gag had cut the sides of his mouth.  His wrists and elbows were deeply cut from the tight ropes.

Gabor put his arms around him and held him.

To his surprise he kissed him.

Steven's eyes widened.  He also had eyes from his team mate from the Virgin Islands.

He let his guard down.  He held Gabor tightly and wept, Gabor gently stroking his face.

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It was December.  The trial of Preacher Holmes had concluded.  The jury found his guilty of kidnapping, unlawful restraint, and attempted murder.

Steven sat in the court with Gabor.  He was still healing.  At graduation he was given the schools highest honor medal.  He was still going to the Marines, but that was delayed for him to complete heal from his broken limbs to the rope cuts that circled his arms and neck.

The Bailiff ordered the court to rise.  Judge Conway took his seat.

He asked the preacher if he had anything to say.

He stood, stoic in his righteousness.

He asked Steven if he had anything to say before he gave sentence.

Steven stood up and addressed the bench.

Judge, all I can say if that I am proud to be gay and plan to marry Gabor here!"

The court went wild with applause as Holmes sneered at them all.  Conway graveled the court into silence.

"Order, order in the court."

He looked at Steven and Gabor.  "Gentlemen, I will be honored to witness your ceremony when the times comes.  As for you, MISTER HOLMES, I sentence you to life, without parole!  This court stands adjourned."

The marshals put cuffs on Holmes and escorted him from the court, screaming and cursing all present in the name of God.   Gabor and Steven embraced.

Slaps on the back from all their buddies.

Steven had changed a whole town, and hand changed himself too.  From homophobia to acceptance.


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Steven just tied Gabor's wrists to the tree.

"Yeah," Gabor said, "I want you to tie me up and leave me here.  I want to knew what you went through."

"OK", said Steven.

He took the rope and after binding his lover's arms to the tree, worked his hole body until Gabor could not move.  After taping his face to blind and gag him, he said, "Remember, it's now the Sabbath.  I get to rest.  But if your're still tied up here on Monday, I will torture you as Holmes did to me."

Steven got on the quad and drove away as Gabor worked the ropes.