Stories of Tie Up Games

Okay, so my first Snoop Dream story with Tricia wasn't so good. I'm hoping I'm more on my game with this Snoop Dream, involving my Samurai-chan Snoop Abbie Dwight and her niece Penny Giles. Abbie had a cameo in Trish's Snoop Dream, but this time she's one of the stars. The other star is her little niece Penny, and...well, you'll just have to get to know her.

And don't forget to comment. Please?

So let us drop into Snowden's PowerDragons dojo and see what's happening, shall we?
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Snoop Dreams: Abbie

Dave Miyazaki was the actual listed owner of PowerDragons Martial Arts Academy, but as his age and weight both increased—happy marriage turned out to be less than happy for his waistline—he conducted fewer and fewer of the classes at the dojo. Sensei Dave—still a master swordsman, at least compared to nearly anyone in the environs of Allen County—still taught his kendo, shinkendo, and iaido classes, but more and more of the taekwondo classes, not to mention the Little Dragons introductory course and the women’s self-defense classes, were being taken up by his associates. Sensei Andrew, a grad student at State, handled a number of the classes including the women’s self-defense and his own board-breaking classes, while the younger taekwondo classes became the purview of Sensei Dave’s own daughter Annie, a young woman eager to augment her low associate professor’s salary. Her able assistants in the taekwondo classes were her stepsister Abbie Dwight and Abbie’s boyfriend Jaden Ross, enticed into the job by free tuition and the chance to spend as much time as possible with his sweetheart Abbie. And the Little Dragons, by popular acclaim of both the little dragons themselves and their parents, was led by…

“Char-yo!” and the ragged little row of eighteen five-and-six-year-old little dragons in their light gi uniforms emblazoned on the back with the PowerDragons LittleDragons logo, squirmed to loose attention at the command of the piping little piccolo voice, their little backs mostly straight, their hands generally at their sides. “We had a very good class today, Little Dragons! Next week we’re going to play a really fun kick game! Now…poon-yi!” and the diminutive pupils bowed to their diminutive instructor. “Good afternoon, Little Dragons!”

“Good afternoon, Miss Abbie!” the children replied brightly, to the beaming smiles of their parents, before scattering to their families. All except for one little dragon, who dutifully followed Miss Abbie off the mat to a seat in a far corner of the dojo. The little meeting was far from impromptu; her mommy had arranged for a little talk with Miss Abbie after a certain incident at daycare that afternoon. Miss Abbie came straight to the point. “Gabrielle, do you remember what I taught you about using your techniques outside of class?”

Little Gabrielle Pillsberry pouted, pensively twisting a lock of her long wavy red hair between her fingers. “Yes, Miss Abbie. We’re not s’posed to use our fighting techno—techniques on children our own age.” Her little friend and fellow Little Dragon, standing nearby, had already reminded her little best friend of the adage she now recited singsong.

“Very good, Gabby. Do you remember why?” Gabby mused a long moment, scraping up the words—

“‘Cause we’re not s’posed to use them for selfish or agg…aggra…”

“‘Aggressive,’” Penny Giles stage-whispered to her flummoxed friend and Little Dragons colleague—

“‘…aggressive purposes. We’re s’posed to use peas—peaceful means to solve our pro’lems whenever possible,” she finished at a verbal gallop befitting the well-nicknamed little girl. She pouted again. “I’m sorry I tried to punch him, but he was bein’ mean, an’—an’ I know it was bad,” and she twisted half away, seeing the glimmer of disappointment in Miss Abbie’s eyes, “but it jus’ got me mad.”

Abbie kept her affect gentle, her tone maternal. “And that’s why we try to use our smarts to take care of problems, Gabby. So we don’t let being mad or scared make us do things that could hurt people and make things worse.”

“‘Our best weapon is our smarts,’” said Penny, reiterating another favorite Little Dragons motto in a gravely sententious tone which her mild little voice made unconsciously adorable.

Miss Abbie nodded. “Very true, Penny. And you said you apologized to the little boy, Gabby.” Gabby nodded fervently. “I think you remember now why you shouldn’t have done what you did, don’t you?” Gabby nodded with even more fervor. “That’s very good, Gabby.” Which seemed to be worth a hug. “And you won’t forget anymore, I’ll bet!”

Gabby finally smiled. Miss Abbie hugs had that effect on her. “Nuh-uh, Miss Abbie! I won’t never forget that again!” And with a final greeting to Penny, Gabby scampered to Mrs. Pillsberry, who cast her detective-club student Abbie a smile and wave as she escorted Gabrielle outside into the warm late-spring air.

“I wonder how Gabby forgets the mottoes so much,” said Penny scant minutes later as she and Aunt Abbie-Faith changed out of their uniforms and into their school clothes in the cozy little dressing room. “We say ‘em every class.”

“Well, Penny, you have to remember that you have such a better memory than Gabby.” Or anyone else in the world, either, she didn’t say.

Penny’s tone was sober as usual as she probed her ash-blonde head through the collar of her PowerDragons Little Dragons tee shirt, “Yes, but it would be kind of nice to forget things sometimes. The bad stuff.” Little Penny had yet to forget anything in her life.

Abbie nodded. She had so much “bad stuff” in her past she too wished she could forget, not least that night, the night her family had been slaughtered by John Michael Walton. The night she too should have died from the slashed throat he had inflicted upon her. And she knew the balm of forgetting; most of that night in her memory was nothing more than soul-searing moments of agonizing pain and child’s terror.

Penny knew, of course. She had overheard Aunt Abbie speaking of it more than once to her friend Leslie Morgan from down the street on Valleyview Drive, had heard details Penny knew she was not supposed to know, details that five years of life had not prepared her to understand. What she did understand was that something very bad had hurt Aunt Abbie in ways Penny did not understand, and that Aunt Abbie herself did not seem to remember them perfectly. In fact, Penny had wondered sometimes that Miss Leslie seemed to remember the bad things even better than Aunt Abbie, which of course made no sense to her no matter her precocious intellect. “We’ll be out in a moment, Jaden dear!” Abbie suddenly cried through the door, knowing Jaden Ross—not only her boyfriend, but her and Penny’s ride home that afternoon—was waiting for them. “Penny and I are having a nice little chat!” If it made Jaden a little crazy, so much the better.
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What made Jaden Ross crazier was having to let Abbie out at her sister Abigail Giles’s place knowing it was empty enough that only quiet little Penny stood between him, Abbie, and a delicious little interlude of late-afternoon delight. “But Aaron could be back from the lab if Dr. Morgan lets the team have a break.” Abbie’s pointed observation assuaged Jaden’s frustration. “And my sister could be back quick if Aidenn’s checkup was on time and her obstetrician visit went well.” Her adoptive sister Abigail Giles was—again—very pregnant, carrying Penny, Ella, and Aidenn’s upcoming baby sister. “There’s always Friday night!” Which was rather cold comfort to Jaden Ross as he drove away.

“What’s on Friday night?” asked Penny beneath a crinkled nose—

Abbie blushed. “None of your business, Penelope Faith.” Very little escaped Penny’s notice, including Aunt Abbie’s blush. “So,” said Abbie, temporizing to divert Penny’s curiosity, idly noting a scuffed sprinkling of mulch from the fringe of the front walk scattered across the front stoop as she unlocked the front door, “what are we going to do for supper, Penny?”

Which prodded a rare giggle to Penny’s lips. “Aunt Abbie! Don’t’cha remember? Mommy’s bringing pizza home! Pizza and ice cream was the only way Ella would go with her to the doctors!” Ella was a year too young for Little Dragons, and not a happy traveler when she wasn’t the center of attention. Penny, savoring her giggle, yawned and stretched her way into the living room behind her aunt. “I just hope she doesn’t bring any of that nasty pizza with those anchovy fishes on it. Why does she like that stuff all of a sudden?” Mommy had never particularly cared for anchovy pizza until—

Abbie giggled as they wandered toward her bedroom up the hall. “Blame it on Emily!” Abigail Giles had already learned that the little bun in her oven was a girl, and already had her named Emily after Emily Dickinson. “Babies give mommies funny appetites.” Abbie fought back her own yawn. “I think we could use a nap!” Plump little Penny, who was very partial to naps, especially after Little Dragons class, readily agreed. Retiring to Abbie’s room and her big bed, Abbie and Penny didn’t even bother to change clothes before curling up for a delicious little nap before Abigail came home.

Abbie felt more than heard a rummaging outside the closed bedroom door. She sniffled back the hint of hay fever which was her usual springtime burden, wriggled a languid stretch to wake herself up. Penny was pulling herself up to a seat beside her. “Ella must be tired out,” said Abbie with a just-awake yawn. “She’s not running around tearing everything up.” Ella seemed at times to be thoroughly ADHD.

“I wonder if Mommy brought me some ice cream,” said Penny as she rolled out of Aunt Abbie’s bed. Penny was very partial to rainbow vanilla, herself.

Abbie tittered as she followed Penny toward the living room. “Just no anchovy pizza!” She allowed herself another lazy, eyes-shut stretch, causing her to miss Penny’s sudden freeze in her tracks—

“Oh crap! What are you doing here!”
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Abbie could not have been more taken by surprise than if she had been literally asleep in her bed. As it was, it was evident that the young dark-headed man whose startled cry had frozen Abbie in her tracks had been in the house for some time. And if the startled cry itself hadn’t gotten Abbie’s attention, the large-caliber pistol trembling in his hand and leveled at her was more than enough cause for Abbie to be startled. Penny was clearly and understandably frightened, but after a second of utter shock, Abbie’s senses kicked back in—and the first thing they reported to her was that he seemed as frightened as she herself was. Nervous eyes, frightened eyes in the home invader’s face which matched the trembling of the hand holding the gun, and Abbie quickly took stock of the situation.

A home invader.

A nervous home invader.

A nervous home invader with a pistol aimed at her head.

A nervous home invader with a pistol aimed at her head, with Penny between the two of them. With a frightened five-year-old girl between them.

“You—you—you’re that frickin’ ninja!” the home invader fairly shrieked, raising the pistol almost defensively at Abbie. “The one who chopped off that one actor’s head—Judah Rose—chopped his frickin’ head off with one hand! What are you doing here?” She hesitated, her hands rising in surrender—“You stop right there! Stay away from me, you frickin’ ninja! Stay away or I’ll—I’ll—I’ll kill this kid!”—he reached for Penny—Penny shrank back against Abbie’s legs—

“You don’t want to do that,” Abbie replied in as calm a voice as she could manage against a nervous, armed intruder threatening her niece. She pulled Penny close—the young man tensed his grip on the pistol—“You have the gun. I can’t hurt you. You’re in control here.”

“Yeah, but you’re a frickin’ ninja! You’re just waiting for your chance to chop my head off with that sword of yours!”—Abbie fidgeted again to wrap up a trembling Penny—“Stop it! Freeze!” he screamed. “You move again and I’ll blow both your heads off!”

It had been Abbie Dwight’s moment of fame. During the filming of her sister Abigail’s first book, Little Girls Lost, the lead actor, Judah Rose, playing Abigail’s real-life abductor and torturer, and the murderer of Abbie’s family and nearly herself, John Michael Walton, had lost his mind—literally, Abbie and her Snoop friends knew—and had assaulted Abigail, Abby’s hired sitter Cora, and the infants Penny and Ella. Abbie’s battle with Rose left her badly wounded with a knife buried in her right shoulder—it left Judah Rose decapitated by Abbie’s wakizashi sword, plied with the last of the strength in her left hand. Rose himself, knowing he had literally lost himself and hoping to provide evidence against the creature that had overpowered his mind, had turned on a webcam to record his attack on Abigail and the girls, only to have it record his own decapitation for the world to see. Obviously, Abbie mused nervously, this agitated home invader had been one of the millions to see the video.

And the fastest way to further agitate an agitated person, she knew, was to tell him to calm down, which seriously limited her options. “All right,” she replied as evenly as she could manage with a gun to her face and a frightened niece wrapped around her legs, “I’m not moving. I’m not going to try to hurt you. I just want to protect Penny from being hurt.” He stared, obviously unfamiliar with the name—“The little girl,” Abbie explained, glancing her eyes momentarily down at her frightened niece. “I don’t think you really want to hurt her.”

“You weren’t even supposed to be here!” The pistol fairly shuddered in his hands. “It was just supposed to be her! She was supposed to be here! What are you even doing here, you frickin’ ninja?”

“I live here.” Abbie hoped her calm would eventually calm him down as well. “Part of the time. The other part I live with Mom.”

‘That one who adopted you.” He knew the story practically by heart. “I know all about you. Everybody does! Frickin’ ninja!”

The term—that name “ninja”—had always irritated Abbie. The ninja was sneaky, hidden, cowardly; Abbie was forthright and aboveboard in all things, perfectly befitting the Samurai-chan nickname her dad Sensei Dave had bestowed upon her. “Then you know I don’t like being called a ninja. If you have to call me something, just call me by my name. You know it’s Abbie. What’s your name?”

“Oh, no, you’re not getting me to fall for that crap! Pretend to get all friendly with me, then take my head off when I let my guard down! You’re not getting me that way!”

“Then you can leave. I won’t try to stop you.”

“And I wouldn’t even make it to the door! Besides, I’m not leaving until I see her! She’s going to see me whether she wants to or not!”

“You mean my sister Abby. Why is that so important?” The invader was beginning to sound very much like a stalker to her. Well, she mused, a very successful author and a beautiful woman…

“None of your damn business!” His finger strained on the trigger. “You stay out of it! You’re not even supposed to be here!”

Abbie felt her patience begin to fray a little. “But we are here. We can’t just stay here like this, you know that. You’re frightening Penny with that gun in your hand.”

“I’m not putting it down so you can go ahead and chop my head off!” Again his finger tightened—

“You don’t have to be scared of me, you know. I won’t hurt you.”

“Yeah, like you didn’t hurt that actor! I’m supposed to believe you?”

Stalemate. Penny, small and young as she was, knew the pistol was dangerous, clung to her aunt with wide, frightened eyes belying her quiet, taking away Abbie’s ability to fight the invader. The invader himself would not leave, and his trembling hand would not put down that weapon which was terrifying Penny as long as he perceived Abbie to be a threat to him. Merely standing in her place with her hands raised in surrender was clearly not relieving him of his fear of Samurai-chan. Then Abbie’s racing imagination discovered a solution to the stalemate. A humiliating, potentially disastrous one. But a solution nonetheless.

“If you can’t believe my promise, there’s one other thing you can do, then.” She drew a shaky breath and proceeded to make her offer. “You can tie me up. That way I can’t use a weapon on you. Would that make you stop being so scared of me?”

Here we go again! Don't certain people seem to attract trouble?

Abbie sweet darling that you are. Sometimes I wish you would talk less and be tied up and gagged so much more.

Xtc, what can I say? Snoops just naturally attract trouble, even when they're not trying to!

jay, we'll find out, won't we?

Anyhow, Abbie has just made a dangerous proposition to theirs home invader. Let's see what happens, shall we?
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“No it’s not. If my hands are tied, I can’t hurt you. Then you can put down that gun and stop scaring Penny.”

“Yeah, so you can use one of your ninja kicks to take me out! You think I’m stupid?” Abbie prudently did not answer his angry rhetorical question the way she wanted to.

“Then tie my feet too. Tie me up any way you want, just as long as you can keep calm and not scare Penny. I won’t resist.” He hesitated—“Penny, go get the belts to my bathrobes in my room, please, and”—

“Oh no you don’t!” he cried, tensing the pistol at Penny—Abbie’s heart froze in her chest—“You’re not sending this little rug rat to put out a warning! She stays right here!”

“Then what are we supposed to do? We can’t stay like this and you know it!"

Which was more true than she could guess. He had been staking out the house for hours; only Abbie and Penny’s careless arrival, tiredly neglecting to completely shut the door, had allowed him to get into the house. He was hungry and tired, and the prospect of keeping a gun trained on a pair of hostages—one of whom was that frickin’ ninja—was more than he believed he could handle. Which allowed him to consider an alternative. “We’re all going. All of us. Either of you try anything, and I shoot both of you. Got it?”

“Got it.” She started to shepherd Penny with her—

“No you don’t, ninja! The kid stays with me! That way you won’t try anything on me!”

“She won’t”—

“Or I could just shoot the both of you right now!”

“It’s okay, Aunt Abbie,” Penny murmured. “It’ll be okay.” With small hesitant steps, her hands raised the way her aunt’s were, Penny edged toward the man. “Please don’t hurt my Aunt Abbie. I love her too much.”

For a moment he hesitated in the wake of the child’s quietly plaintive words—“You stay right in front of me, ninja,” he commanded Abbie. “No tricks, or”—

“I know.” She marched slowly down the bedroom hallway toward her room, her hands up, then stopped at her closed door. “I have to open it up.” On a gruff command, he allowed her, and in an instant all three were in Abbie’s bedroom. Warily, he allowed her to take the white silk belt from her white bathrobe. Penny was the go-between; Abbie gave her the belt, which she took to the intruder. “Here,” and now she turned him her back and pressed her wrists together in the small of her back, “go ahead and tie my hands. I won’t hurt you.” She was determined to make certain he understood she was in no way afraid of him.

A gruff order to Penny to stand where he could see her, and when she obeyed, the invader plied the belt on Abbie’s wrists, looping it around and around, and finally cinching it off between them. Abbie’s instinct was to sneer—see, now I can’t hurt you, you coward!—but stopped herself. The important thing was keeping Penny safe, and antagonizing the intruder would be a very bad idea. “Now you don’t have to be so nervous. “I can’t hurt you now.”

But the intruder seemed unimpressed. He had jammed the pistol into the waist of his jeans while he tied Abbie’s hands; now, as soon as he had cinched the knot, he pulled it back out again. “Okay then, ninja, go sit over there on your bed and wait a minute.” His tone—his hands too, Abbie observed—were noticeably calmer, more in control of himself now that Abbie’s hands had been restrained. On the other hand, Abbie herself was feeling a bit agitated as the intruder took the belt from her red bathrobe, then rummaged through her drawers.

“I have a name, you know. And I’m not a ninja!”

“I’ll call you whatever I want!” Now he pulled several pairs of pantyhose of various colors from her drawers to go with the yet-unused bathrobe belt. Definitely he’s more comfortable, Abbie noted—“And you, little rug rat, get yourself over here. Your turn.”

“Wait a minute!” Abbie half rose from her seat in protest until he turned the pistol upon her—“You can’t—she’s just a little girl”—

“I don’t trust frickin’ ninjas, and I sure as hell don’t trust a ninja’s kid sister, no matter how little she is! And I definitely don’t trust this one! Got her beady little eyes on me all the time like she’s looking for a chance to pounce!”

“That’s just the way Penny is! She doesn’t mean anything by it! You can’t”—

“It’s okay, Aunt Abbie,” said Penny, her voice still mild as always. “It’ll keep him from being so scared.” She stepped across to him, her hands still up, her eyes big, but calm and dry. “Go ahead and tie me up, mister. Just don’t tie me too tight so it hurts. Just tight enough, please.” Abbie was still moved to protest, but the calm courage in little Penny’s eyes stilled her. You are so brave, Penny! “And Aunt Abbie’s not my sister,” said Penny to the intruder with a trace of her customary quiet, amused humor, as she allowed the man to turn her back to him. “She’s my aunt! But I love her like my sister and my baby brother and Mommy and Daddy.” And for an instant, Abbie believed she saw, he seemed to soften—

“Well, you just hold still, kid. Arms down at your sides.” Penny promptly obeyed, and on the instant he wrapped the bathrobe belt around her, just above her little elbows; with a tug, he attempted to get the belt wrapped twice around her, the narrow belt digging into the flesh of Penny’s plump little arms. He had enough for a knot behind her back, only a few spare inches hanging down. “There, that’s not too tight, is it, kid?”

Penny wiggled her bound arms. “It pinches a little.”

He stared a moment. “Then here,” and he undid the knot, loosening the belt a little. When he was done, he barely had enough left to knot it. “Better?”

“Yes, thank you. It doesn’t pinch as much, but I still can’t move my arms a lot.”

He straightened, feeling for the pistol he had again stuffed into the waist of his jeans. “I’m almost done.” He looked around the room—saw Abbie’s cast-off Keds—“That’ll do,” and he took up the shoes and removed their laces—

“What are you doing!” cried Abbie from her seat on the bed.

“Getting your shoelaces, Aunt Abbie,” said Penny. “He’s going to use them to tie up my wrists like yours are. Is that right, mister? You’re going to use them to tie up my hands like Aunt Abbie.”

He almost chuckled as he took the newly-removed laces and tied them into one long ligature. “Smart kid. If I use enough, I won’t have to make it real tight and pinch you, kid.”

“My name is Penny,” said Penny as she cooperatively tried to wriggle her restrained arms backward so she could place her hands together behind her back. “Penny Giles. What’s your name?”

“Kevin,” he answered without thought, before starting at his foolishness—bristled angrily at the realization he had been tricked into—

“Kevin,” said Penny with her accustomed mildness. “I like that name. My baby brother’s name is Aidenn. Mommy named him after a poem called ‘The Raven.’ Mommy writes stuff.”

“I know, kid—I mean, Penny,” said Kevin, somehow mollified by his little captive’s mildness, beginning to believe that maybe it wasn’t a ninja trick. “That’s why I’m here. Now hold still.” He took Penny’s wrists and tugged them behind her back—she winced—“Sorry. Didn’t mean for it to pinch. I just have to be sure you can’t use your hands.” He made himself that assurance by crossing Penny’s plump wrists over each other.

“I understand, Mister Kevin,” said Penny as he began to loop the long lace extravagantly around her crossed wrists. “So we don’t scare you.” He winced himself a moment, a stab of embarrassment as the thought of being so frightened by a five-year-old kid that he felt the need to tie her up. And the fact that the kid wasn’t putting up a fight didn’t help the feeling. “Are you done tying my hands yet?”

Kevin wrapped more and more shoelace around Penny’s wrists. “Almost. Then I’ll tie the knot,” he said, matching action to words. “You can’t get loose, can you, Penny?”

“No, Mister Kevin.” Penny offered a mild twist of her freshly-bound wrists. “I can’t get loose.”

“Okay, then. Now go over there and stand by the bed while I tie up your Aunt Abbie’s arms like yours. Abbie, over here.” As Penny promptly obeyed the intruder’s orders, Abbie too found herself following Penny’s example and quietly complying. In moments, she found her arms tied above her elbows as Penny’s had been. “Okay,” and he pulled out his pistol again. “Abbie, out front. Penny, you’re right in front of me. We’re going down to the basement.”

“Why?” asked Penny as she filed behind her aunt, just as she would ask Mommy why the sun is shiny or ask Daddy why the grass is green. “Why are you making us go down to the basement, Mister Kevin?”

“You can’t be seen down there. If somebody looks in the window and sees you two all tied up, they’d call the cops on me. Down there, I can keep an eye on you, and nobody can see us.” Penny nodded at the explanation he had not intended to give, still calm and quiet but with a nervousness seeping into her hazel eyes—

“You aren’t going to hurt Mommy, are you, Mister Kevin? She’s the only Mommy I have.”

The little queue reached the top of the basement stairs. “I don’t want to hurt her, Penny. I just—well, it’s kind of a long story.”

“You can tell me, Mister Kevin. I just don’t know why you want”—her words were cut short by a timorous squeal as Penny’s foot slipped on the stair—she began to fall forward—“Thank you for catching me, Mister Kevin,” said Penny as Kevin’s quick hands caught her and put her back on her feet. “I’m kind of clumsy, ‘specially with my hands tied up. I don’t have good balance, the doctor says. That’s part of why I go to Little Dragons, so I’m not as clumsy anymore.”

“Well, you’re still a little kid, you know. Maybe I ought to carry you.” Kevin scooped her up and carried her down the rest of the stair.

“Thank you, but I am clumsy. But my little sister Ella’s not clumsy at all—she can do all sorts of things I can’t do, and she’s only four years old! By the way, Mister Kevin,” asked Penny as he put her on her feet in front of the basement sofa, “are you going to tie up Ella and Aidenn too when Mommy brings them home? Ella won’t like that at all, and Aidenn’s almost still a baby. Ella’s kind of hyperactive, and she won’t like having her arms and hands tied up, not at all!”

“We’ll see. It depends on what happens. Now, up on the sofa with you. Abbie, you sit down over here so Penny can sit beside you.”

“Thank you for not hurting Penny,” murmured Abbie as she sat on the end of the sofa, feeling somehow shamed by Penny’s calmness. She’s so brave in this mess! “She’s very special to me.”

“I’ll need a boost up,” said Penny, her small voice winsome. “I can’t use my hands.” With a quick boost under her shoulders, Kevin hoisted her to a seat beside Abbie, earning himself another quiet, earnest “thank you” from Penny.

“Now your feet, Abbie,” said Kevin. “Cross your ankles so you can’t hop.” Abbie caught Penny’s gaze—do what he says, Aunt Abbie—and obeyed. She still felt the desire to fight this intruder, no matter how handsomely he was treating Penny—maybe, when he kneels down to tie my feet—but no, she commanded herself, seeing Penny sitting meekly beside her. If I fight him, Penny still might get hurt, and she can’t defend herself—and she stilled herself while Kevin used a pair of her pantyhose to tie her ankles, then another to tie her knees.

“I guess me next, Mister Kevin,” said Penny, crossing her ankles, dangling slightly over the edge of the sofa seat, before he instructed her.

“That might pinch you,” and instead, he placed Penny’s ankles side-by-side. “This will do for you,” and he used another pair of her aunt’s pantyhose to tie Penny’s ankles, taking care to keep the ligature scrupulously over Penny’s short socks. He debated a moment about tying Penny’s knees; she, like Abbie, was wearing shorts, and he earnestly didn’t want to pinch Penny’s chubby little legs. He felt as if he had made a deal with the child. Come on, you gutless chicken—she’s a little kid! What can she do to you with her hands and feet tied? “Yeah, that’ll do,” and he pocketed the hose he would have used on Penny’s knees. “You’ve been a good kid.” He took a deep breath—

“I suppose you’re going to gag us next,” said Abbie, “to keep us quiet.”

Which instantly produced the first consternation Penny had yet shown. “You mean tie up my mouth?” A squeal was in her voice, a frightened appeal in her big eyes for Mister Kevin. “Please don’t do that! Pretty please! Last Christmas Gabby did that with a dirty old rag and it hurt so bad! Please don’t tie up my mouth, Mister Kevin! Please!” He had drawn a truculent breath at Penny’s squealing protest, but then saw the moist desperation in the little girl’s eyes—

“Okay, I’ll make you a deal, okay Penny? If you promise you’ll be real quiet and not make a fuss so people can hear you, I won’t tie up your mouth. Do you promise?”

“And Aunt Abbie too! She won’t make any noise either, will you, Aunt Abbie! She’ll be as good as me! Please, I want to be able to talk to her, please Mister Kevin? Please don’t tie up her mouth either!”

“It’ll be okay, Penny,” said Abbie. “I don’t think Mister Kevin trusts me as much as he does you. You’ve been a very good little girl, but I’m a lot bigger than you. He might think he has to gag me to stay safe.” Oddly, Abbie felt as if she was in a contest of sorts with her niece to be the most calmly humble. “It’s okay, Penny. You can talk to me even if I can’t talk back. You might actually like it that way!” And it struck her that in the midst of this peril, Penny—little quiet Penny, who could content herself with so few words, whose quietude had always worried an Abigail who feared that Penny was autistic—had been more loquacious with this home invader than she had been with nearly anyone else.

‘Tell you what, Abbie,” said Kevin, eyeing her narrowly. “For Penny’s sake, I’ll hold off on the gag. Just keep quiet. Of course, if you start screaming or anything”—

“I understand,” said Abbie, lowering her face and eyes. “But…like Penny asked, please don’t hurt Abby. I’ve already lost one family. I can’t take losing another.”

“It might not come to that.” Kevin stared at his two captives sitting quietly on the sofa, weighed putting down the pistol. No, not yet. “Just as long as she’s reasonable. All I want is for her to finally hear me out.”

Have I ever told you I hate kids? Espcially cute ones!

Keep it comming, Sir.

Wow imagine how many of the other generations of Snowden Snoops could have avoided being gagged and tightly bound so often by following Penny's examples herein this part.

Very good! Little Penny is quite a trouper.
More please.

Well, xtc, Penny really can't help it.

Well, jay, not many people pay attention to Penny until they realize she's been right all along.

And Max, thanks! Penny is remarkable in more ways than one. And here's your conclusion!

There's a confrontation coming, and our heroines are helpless! What will happen?
****************************************

“About what?” asked Abbie. She had allowed herself to be made helpless, and the humiliation of that was weighing on her. She remembered the night the Crowells had broken into Cousin Leslie’s house down the street, taken Leslie away from her sleepover with Abbie and Serenity. Abbie had managed to free herself from the hogtie the Crowells had put her into, had run to rescue her cousin, only to be stopped by a knife literally at Leslie’s throat. Instead, Abbie had let herself surrender, be taken away with Leslie, and had cursed herself as a coward throughout the ordeal. Now, with Penny to protect, Abbie had done it again, had surrendered, and hoped fervently that she hadn’t made a—no, she remembered, it hadn’t been a mistake with Leslie, either. My being there with her helped her face an ordeal much worse than anything she could have imagined, worse even than being held hostage by freaks who intended to keep her alive only long enough to have her parents discover her freshly-killed body. If I hadn’t been there, what would have happened? I made the right choice that night—I just hope I’m making the right choice now!

She watched him pick up a satchel he had dropped in a corner of the basement lounge, something he had obviously left there while she and Penny napped. He put down the pistol, reached inside, pulled out a thick notebook binder, not at all unlike the ones Abby herself used for her manuscripts and the screenplays she had written for their movie versions. “She’s the best writer there is,” said Kevin fervently, seeming to caress the binder. “I…I learned everything I know about writing from her. I’ve read everything! I even got one of her screenplays off Ebay, the Little Girls Lost one. I followed that whole thing when it went down with that actor, how he went nuts. That’s how I knew you were a nin—well,” he corrected himself, remembering Abbie’s admonishment, “how you were a martial artist. I watched that movie like a million times. It…it inspired me, even.” He displayed the binder to his captive audience. “This story. I call it Ninja Girl. There’s this girl, her family was kidnapped by this warring clan, and they”—

Abbie gasped, guessing his story. “My story. She…she survives, becomes a warrior…”

“A wise sensei teaches her to be a ninja warrior. At first, all she wants to do is get revenge on the rival clan that killed her family, but it doesn’t give her any satisfaction. She starts to rampage against all evil, which brings all the rival clans together to hunt her down, and”—

“But why do you want Mommy to read it?” asked Penny. “Why is that important?”

“I’ve tried…I sent it to her a million times, asked her if she would help me! I…I know it’s not that good, not as good as hers, and all I wanted was for her advice, her help! I sent letters, emails, texts, sent her the whole thing, and she never even answered me! It’s like I don’t even matter! My favorite writer…”

“Mommy’s real busy,” said Penny. “She writes a lot herself, and she takes care of me and Ella and Aidenn, and she goes to the doctor a lot because she’s going to have another baby. Mommy already gave her a name, Emily, after a poet she likes a lot. She named me after some girl in a story who waited a long long time for her husband to come home, and she named Ella after some other girl who was so pretty they started a war over her, and I already told you about Aidenn and how Mommy”—

“But all she had to do was read my stuff! Was that so much to ask? Just one little novel! I don’t even care if she doesn’t want to help edit it, just tell me if it’s any good, let somebody know what I wrote and help me get it published! I mean, she has a publisher and an editor, and all she had to do was introduce me to them! Just one read and a couple phone calls! Is that so much to ask, to help one guy out?”

“So you broke into our house,” said Abbie.

“Yes! So she finally has to read my stuff! She can’t just keep ignoring me this way! This way I know she’ll read it, and she’ll help me get it published, and”—

“But that doesn’t sound right, Mister Kevin,” said Penny, still quiet, still meek. “I don’t think she’ll like that you broke in here and tied up me and Aunt Abbie, and I know she won’t like it if you tie up Ella and Aidenn, ‘specially when Aidenn had to go have his checkup with the doctor. She won’t want to help you because of that.”

“She won’t have a choice, Penny. This way, I can make her help me!”

“But it won’t work! Mister Kevin…Aunt Abbie, did Mrs. Pillsberry tell you why Gabby got in trouble at daycare today so you had to talk to her at Little Dragons?”

“What?” asked Abbie and Kevin in unison, wondering what Penny’s point was—if the little girl even had a point—

“Why she hit Harrison Yost at daycare today.”

“No,” said Abbie.

“See, Mister Kevin, Harrison Yost likes Gabby Pillsberry, my best friend. I mean really likes her. For Valentine’s Day Miss Hayley—she helps Mrs. Thurston, our daycare teacher—well, she had us all get little Valentine cards for everybody in our daycare class. Most all of us got everybody those little Valentines you get in the little boxes wrapped up in plastic. I got everybody Valentines with Belle on them like in Beauty and the Beast because Belle’s my favorite. But Harrison got Gabby this really big Valentine you buy by themselves, with their own special envelope, that’s how much he likes her. But Gabby doesn’t like Harrison back, she likes my cousin Mikey Miyazaki instead and doesn’t even pay any attention to Harrison, and Harrison doesn’t like that.”

“You already told me this before, Penny,” said Abbie.

“But I’m just saying why Gabby got in trouble today. See, ever since then Harrison does stuff to try to get Gabby to pay attention to him so he can tell her he likes her. Today…well, he took my book away from me and hid it where nobody could find it. That got Gabby real mad at him.”

“That little jerk!” Kevin’s angry interjection startled both his hostages—

“Well anyway, Gabby helped me try to find my book but we couldn’t, and she got so mad at Harrison that she hit him. They both had to spend the whole rest of the day sitting at the time-out table not talking, and all Harrison did was look at her the whole time like he was sorry.”

“But, well, that’s sort of what I’m doing,” said Kevin, oddly moved by the little girl’s story. “This way your mom and I are both at the timeout table, and”—

“But I’m not done, Mister Kevin!” A trace of asperity had begun to color her voice. “See, they had to sit there because Gabby hit him, and she hit him so hard it left a bruise on his arm! Gabby’s real strong, see, the strongest kid in the class. And when they got to get up for their snack—they had to wait until everybody else got their snack before they could get theirs, kids at the timeout table always get their snack last—she told Harrison Yost that she hated him more than anybody in the whole wide world and she wouldn’t ever ever speak to him again. That’s exactly what she told him!” Abbie wouldn’t dispute Penny’s retelling—she knew Penny had every word of the day at daycare—like every other thing she had ever seen or heard—cached perfectly in that superhuman memory. “I think when Mommy sees that you came in here and tied up Aunt Abbie and me, she’ll be like Gabby was to Harrison and just plain hate you. She won’t want to help you because you did mean stuff to us like Harrison did to me.” Which made Kevin’s shoulders, up to then so aggressively assertive, quickly crumble. Yeah, a smart kid.

“Maybe this was a mistake,” said Kevin. “But what else was I supposed to do? What do I even do now?”

“If you just let us go, Kevin,” said Abbie—but the fear of the ninja girl he had conjured from Abbie’s own exploits instantly roused him to defiance—“I promise I won’t hurt you!”

“Yeah, like that one kid did to that jerk boy! No way! I’m not giving you that kind of chance!”

“Then what?” asked Abbie with heat in her voice, instinctively twisting futilely at the cords binding her arms—

He pondered for long moment, then finally placed the binder on the side table to the sofa. “I’m leaving the manuscript here. Yeah…if I leave you here, it’ll take you some time to get yourselves untied…buy me some time to get away…”

“If you just let us go, I promise we won’t report you!” cried Abbie. “We’ll just say we met you here—we won’t say anything about you breaking in, tying us up, anything like that! Just untie us!”

“I can’t take that chance!” Kevin was dithering, pacing the room anxiously. “And it’ll come out anyway, I know it will! No, I have to get away…that’s what I’m going to do, leave you here while I escape…you know, it could even help me out! Yeah, like they say, ‘no publicity is bad publicity’…the guy who managed to get into Abby Dwight’s house, he gets to tell his story…I still have the documents on my tablet…this might even get me published! ‘The famous author of Ninja Girl,’ speaking to us tonight from hiding…it could work!”

“But it wouldn’t really be nice,” said Penny. “They’d hear all about how you broke in and tied us up and left us here. That would sound mean of you. I don’t think you’d want people to think you were real bad, would you? You wouldn’t want to be famous because you were mean, would you?” Which gave him pause for a moment.

“I got it,” he said, and plunged into the laundry baskets in the nearby laundry. Abby, ever frugal, still did her own laundry. “Here’s what I’m doing,” he said, returning with two scarves in his hands. “Before I leave, I’ll”—

Penny squeaked. “I thought you weren’t going to tie up my mouth!”

“No, not that. I made you a deal, and you’ve kept up your end. No, what I’m going to do is…well, tie up your eyes, so you can’t see which way I escape. When you two get loose, you won’t be able to tell them where I went, or exactly when. That way I get a chance to escape.”

“Well…okay,” said Penny after a long moment of thought. “Just as long as it doesn’t hurt. Just…please don’t do any more bad things, please, Mister Kevin? I don’t want you to get in more trouble than you’re already in. Just try to not be bad anymore.” And he smiled down at her.

“Okay, promise, kid.” He grinned sheepishly. “I mean, Penny. Now hold still.” Quick hands soon had a scarf tied around Penny’s eyes—“Does it pinch?”

“No, Mister Kevin. I just can’t see anything. Are you tying up Aunt Abbie’s eyes too?”

“Yeah,” said Abbie as Kevin finished her blindfold. “I can’t see anything either, Penny, but I’m still right here with you.”

“Good.” Kevin nodded, inspecting the blindfolds. “You promise you can’t see me, Penny? Abbie?” Both told him no. “Okay, then, here’s what you have to do, Penny. Do you know your numbers?”

“Yes I do, Mister Kevin! I can add and subtract and multiply and divide, and I even”—

“Well, all I need for you to do is count, Penny. Can you count as high as a thousand?” She nodded beneath her blindfold. “Before you try to untie yourselves or make any noise, you have to count down backwards all the way from a thousand. Some time in there, I’ll sneak out one of the doors or windows, but you have to keep counting down until you get to zero because you don’t know if I’ll still be here. Okay?”

“Okay, Mister Kevin.”

“Well then, go ahead and start. Out loud, so I can hear you, you hear?” Penny took a deep breath—

“One thousand. Nine hundred and ninety-nine, nine hundred and ninety-eight, nine hundred and ninety-seven, nine hundred and ninety-six…” Penny felt her energy fading as she counted down—Abbie was lulled by Penny’s quiet, calm voice counting down her numbers—neither of them heard anything as Kevin sneaked away—“Nine hundred. Eight hundred and ninety-nine, eight hundred and ninety-eight, eight hundred and ninety-seven…” Penny found herself drowsing—yawned—“Eight hundred and fifty…eight hun’red and forty-four…eight hun’red and forty-three…” Penny’s delicate little voice drew Abbie into her own drowsiness, a yawn…Jaden peeking around the corner of the lounge… “Eight hun’red ‘n one…eight hun’red…sev’n hun’red ‘n ninety-ni…”

Abbie woke with a start, found herself staring at her dark bedroom ceiling. Just a dream… She blinked hard, her eyes drawn to the night light she had used ever since she had first been adopted as a Dwight. Instinctively she stared down at her wrists—no trace, nothing but soft, dewy, fair flesh, no marks at all.

She found herself still in her shorts and top from the day, her hair tousled from sleep. A glance at the alarm clock—only ten o’clock? What? A crackling stretch and she subsided out of bed, her feet found their slippers beside the bed as usual. Still yawning and blinking, she edged out of her room. Quiet voices in the living room.

She stopped at Penny and Helena’s door across from her own. She had to see. And there were her little nieces, Helena draped languidly in her small bed with the Merida sheets, her pajamas rumpled as they always seemed to be on her hyperactive little frame. But as hyper as Ella could be, Abbie remembered, even at only four years old, she had sat spellbound through Brave from opening credits to closing credits, hardly moving a muscle. It was a feat much easier for Penny.

Who lay curled delicately in her little white-framed princess bed, her plump little frame draped in her favorite Beauty and the Beast nightie. And in the dim glow of the sisters’ shared night light, Abbie saw that Penny, otherwise utterly inert, was silently sucking her thumb in her sleep—

Just like her mommy, Abbie remembered. She had been almost eight years old, still torn and broken from that night and newly adopted as a Dwight, her ruined throat still bandaged and regularly treated at the hospital, and that one night her brand-new big sister Abby—Abbie herself went by Abbie-Faith or simply her middle name Faith to differentiate her from her new big sister—had had those terrible nightmares, still too close to what he had done to her over the shattering course of that week’s captivity. Abigail too had lain curled up tightly in her bed, and the broken little girl Abbie-Faith, so unable to sleep that hot night, had read her new sister’s distress even as she slept so uneasily. And Abby’s thumb too had been in her mouth. Abby, barely twenty—no, Abbie remembered, still nineteen—sucking her thumb through the dreadful nightmare which tortured her. Like Mommy, like Penny, and Abbie smiled as she silently closed the door on her precious nieces.

The voices in the living room resolved as Abbie made her way toward the living room, a strange voice at first, then recognition. “I’d still like to know how they talked him into it,” Detective Janet was saying softly in the living room, and Abbie could discern the shuffling and low talk of the uniformed officers. Still working the crime scene—

“Why don’t you ask her yourself?” said Abigail, her hand still trembling as she tried to manage a mug of hot tea—another nerve-soother for Abigail Giles, even if it was decaf in deference to her unborn daughter—upon seeing her little sister emerge from the hallway. “And yes, Abbie-Faith, I’m still upset! I thought you and Penny were dead! Lying there in the basement all tied up, not moving”—

“We were asleep! He made Penny count down from a thousand, and we fell asleep! Is it our fault we fell asleep?”

“But with you blindfolded, I couldn’t tell that! I nearly had a heart attack! Emily’s probably going to be a nervous wreck all her life thanks to you and that lunatic!”

“Isn’t that an old wives’ tale?” asked Detective O’Malley, a titter in her otherwise blunt voice. “But what did you say, to him, Abbie? I’ve never seen a guy just walk into a police station and confess to a home invasion we didn’t even know had happened! At first I thought it was just a prank!”

Abbie cringed. “And then you got Abby’s call. I was so sound asleep I didn’t wake up until she started screaming! But I don’t think it was me. Kevin was mostly just afraid of me, like I told you before. He was so nervous! I didn’t want to try to fight him with Penny there where he could get at her or do something stupid. That was why I let him tie us up, to calm him down so he didn’t do anything crazy out of fear. I already told you this.” Another crackling yawn racked her. “Mostly it was Penny talking to him that calmed him down. She was so brave! I think she made him see that doing what he did was foolish.”

“Yeah, as if I was going to help someone who broke into my house and—and did that!” The sight of little Penny all tied up was still unnerving to Mommy.

“But he didn’t know what else to do, Mommy,” said Penny, interjecting from the hallway beside Abbie, her moist thumb still at her lips. “Yes, he did a real bad thing, but he wasn’t mean, just like I told you, Detective Janet! He was just scared like Abbie told you. That was the only reason he tied us up, so he wouldn’t be scared!”

“And I’m proud of you for being so smart and brave, Penelope Faith,” said Mommy with a beaming smile for her eldest daughter. “You were a very good little girl!”

“It was just what Aunt Abbie teaches us in Little Dragons, right, Aunt Abbie?” Penny snuggled close to her favorite aunt. “‘Our best weapon is our smarts,’ remember? ‘Use peaceful means to solve our problems whenever possible, and never use our techniques for selfish or aggressive ends.’ That’s what you did, Aunt Abbie! You used your smarts and peaceful means to get us out of trouble! I just did what you did!”

“And you did wonderfully well, both of you!” said Detective O’Malley, rising. “That could have been a very ugly situation, but the two of you defused it wonderfully! I’m just as proud of the both of you as Mrs. Giles here is!” Abbie felt Penny move at her side—

And when she saw Penny making a perfect Little Dragons bow to Detective Janet, she decided it was the perfect thing to do despite another yawn threatening her. And the big hug she got from Penny was even perfect-er.

“Now bedtime!” said Abigail in her best Mommy voice, and aunt and niece shuffled back up the hall to their peaceful beds. Even as Abbie heard her sister’s voice, sotto voce—“And the worst thing is, the book’s actually pretty good!”

finis

If Penny ever becomes a criminal lawyer/psychologist, crime rates will plummet!