Chapter 8: A Bloody Kidnapping

Each Second Counts

On a pleasant afternoon in March 2049, Bobbie and Mary were walking towards downtown from school, when a van blocked them by parking in an alley right in front of them. A man jumped out, waved a police badge, and yelled, “Your slave needs to be wearing handcuffs downtown!” He took off Mary's backpack, put handcuffs on both of them, and shoved them into the back of his dirty van. It all happened so fast that it took them a minute or two to realize that they had just been kidnapped.

When the door opened again, they were at an isolated house. The man waved a gun at them as he got them out of the van. He threatened, “If you do not cooperate, my brother will skin you alive.” He led them into the house, down the stairs, into the basement, and into a cell. The girls had their hands handcuffed behind their backs. He looped a chain between their backs and the handcuffs, so they could not move more than three feet from the back wall. The man closed and locked a barred door on the other side of the cell.

As soon as their captor went upstairs, Mary asked who else was in the basement. Several voices responded. Mary and Bobbie introduced themselves as sisters, one free, and one a slave. As usual, this was a confusing introduction. They learned there were four other young women in the basement. One was Samantha Barnes, in a cell by herself, and there were three slaves named Jane, Jane (called Jay to avoid confusion), and Sophia together in another cell. Samantha was a free girl who had been kidnapped two months ago. The TV, radio, and newspapers were constantly talking about the search for her. Her parents had offered a $100,000 reward.

Mary and Bobbie switched to Mandarin as they discussed what to do. Mary said, “If she has been held here for two months, how could we get released without getting this jerk into deep, deep trouble? I do not think we will ever get out alive.” Bobbie answered, “Why don't we escape as soon as we can?” Mary quietly said, “How could we ever escape? We are attached to a chain and locked in a cell. If we get out of the basement, do we tell him we need to step out to buy some groceries?” Bobbie replied, “Well, we could get out of our handcuffs, and then kill him. How about that? I do have handcuff keys in my inner pants pocket, and I do have some weapons hidden in the frame of my backpack, which I still have. How about getting out of our handcuffs and killing this bastard?”

Because of their awkward position, it was a bit tricky to get the handcuff key out of Bobbie's pocket and into Mary's hand. Mary was able to open one side of Bobbie's handcuffs. Within a minute, both sisters had entirely taken off their handcuffs. Bobbie started to disassemble the parts of her backpack, and then put some of the pieces together. She had a hunting knife and a thick glove with a telescoping car radio antenna attached to it. The tip had some sharp edges to it, so Bobbie extended the antenna with care.

Mary asked, “Why are you carrying weapons? Don't you know how much trouble you could get into by being a slave and carrying those things?” Bobbie just said, “I suppose I like having these because it is prohibited.” Bobbie called out to everyone else and asked how many people lived upstairs in the house. Samantha answered, “Only one guy. I have never seen anyone else here.” One of the slaves said, “A second guy drove us here, but we only see one person in this house.” Bobbie said, “We will deal with this guy hopefully in the next hour or so. Please be quiet while we do this, so that no one else gets hurt.” Several voices called out in terror, “Are you going to set this house on fire, what are you going to do?” Bobbie said, “Quiet. We are only interested in hurting the bastard. You are going to be fine. Just stay quiet.”

Mary said, “We need to act as if we are still in handcuffs. Yell like crazy like you just slipped and broke your arm. Yell that you are bleeding and are afraid that you are dying.” Bobbie offered words of encouragement. They gripped their weapons tightly and practiced in their minds what they would do. They yelled and yelled. One of the slaves was able to bang on a heating pipe which made a racket that should have been irritating to anyone upstairs. Finally, the basement door opened, and the kidnapper yelled, “What is this horrible noise?” Bobbie yelled back, “I was trying to stand up, and I slipped. I think I broke my arm. There is a lot of blood! I am going to die tonight unless someone fixes my arm! Help me, help me now!”

The guy just said, “No one is dying tonight. I am sure it is nothing. Let me get you upstairs so I can get a look.” He came down the stairs and unlocked the cell door. As he walked in, Mary leapt up. As she was coming back down drove the knife deep into his belly just below the ribs. His forward motion helped drive the weapon deeper. Mary used her weight to hang onto the knife handle, which was pointed towards his butt at a 45-degree angle. She twisted the knife back and forth, up and down as fast as she could.

Meanwhile, Bobbie stood up and used the radio antenna to rake across his face and eyes. She was trying to blind him. He was very confused. In his mind, the girls were still attached by handcuffs to a chain. The sisters decided to attack the belly since attacking other key body parts was problematic. The ribs protect the heart, and his hands and his height would protect his neck. They did not want to be vulnerable to being swept away by his hands and feet. Mary was relentless; she kept stabbing and twisting and cutting. At one point, Bobbie decided that she was not doing that much to help the attack. She swung around and grabbed him by the throat and the back of his jacket. She tried to hang there as if she were a backpack, kicking and jerking around. Eventually, Bobbie was able to lock her arms around his throat to cut off some of his air supply. Bobbie’s maneuver paid off. He started to lean backward, making it easier for Mary to stab the belly. Finally, he fell backward. The moment he did, Mary hissed, “Get out of my way!” She stabbed him ten times in the throat with the large hunting knife. It was all over (for him, at least).

The two girls rested for a few minutes. Finally, Bobbie remembered the other girls and said, “Do not worry. He is dead. We are tired. We are going to rest a bit. Then we will find all the keys and free everybody. Your moment of freedom is here.”

Bobbie said, “OK, time for an emergency list. Tell me what do we do now?” Mary said, “This one is easy. We first assess if any of us has any serious injury. Next, we search his body for keys, wallet, jewelry, or anything else that is critical. Next, we search the cell for anything that would show we had been here. We look underneath him, in the pools of blood, in his hands, and around the cell. We put everything we find in your backpack and then bring it with us.” Bobbie added, “We unlock the other cells, but we ask them to stay in the basement until we have a chance to search the house. Then we load up the car and drive to our house.”

So they went through the list. Both girls were a bit banged up. They had cuts, heavy bruises, and bloody noses. But they were functional and of sound mind. They picked up the backpack and put in loose pieces from the disassembled frame. They put in the handcuff key, the bloody weapons, and all the little bits and pieces of their clothing that ripped off during the fight. Then they removed much of his clothing. They took his watch, phone, gun, keys, rings, and other items and put them in the backpack.

It was not difficult to figure out which key opened the cells. That key was still in the cell door. It also opened the other cell doors. They used the handcuff key to free everyone. Bobbie said, “Our time here is short. Listen carefully. There are washtubs here, take off your clothes and wash up. There may be enough other clothing down here to replace what you have been wearing. Put your dirty clothes in the washing machine. Please stay in the basement while we search the house. We will come back in a few minutes to get us all out of here.” Mary added, “Does anyone know where this guy kept his money and guns?” One of the slaves said that she thought he put things in the bedroom. No one had any idea where guns were stored. Mary grabbed a pry bar, and off they went upstairs.

They first went to the driveway and looked at the car. Mary's backpack was still in the front passenger seat. They tested the car key and checked how much gas was in the car. Inside, they looked and found his bedroom. Mary found some mail that showed that his name was Barry Budrick. They found two safes, each under a small table. Both were unlocked. Perhaps he had been examining their contents when he responded to the noise from the basement. One safe was empty; the other was packed with cash and other valuables. They put everything in a bag they found. They systematically looked through every closet and under every bed. One closet was locked. Mary used the pry bar and opened the door in a minute. Bingo, it was loaded with guns, many boxes of ammunition, and lots of other valuables. Just about all of it was already in duffle bags. They quickly packed the rest into empty duffle bags that were there. Mary just said, “We are done. Let's get all the valuables into the car. We need to get out of here.” It took five trips to load up the car.

Mary went to the basement and said, “It is time to leave. We are going to our house. You will get plenty of clothing there. Just find some shorts and a warm shirt for now. As much as possible, clean up. Collect all dirty clothes and put them in the washer. We all need to be in the car and moving in five minutes.” As they ran upstairs, the slave named Sophia said, “That is the man who drove me to this house.” She pointed to a photo mounted on the wall. Bobbie took one look and just said, “Oh shit.” the photo showed two men. They both wore shirts that said, “Brothers Forever!” Bobbie recognized the man she helped kill. She recognized the other one as well. She yelled, “Oh fuck, we just killed the brother of the chief of police for Portland. We are so screwed.” Mary said quietly, “No, we are not, we just need to be very, very clever. Let me think about all of this very carefully.”

When they were ready to leave the house of horrors, Mary said, “We have one more duty. We need to make it dirty, difficult, and disgusting to remove the body. We need to go back into the basement.” Under Mary's direction, they dragged the body close to the chain on the wall. They used all the handcuffs to lock the corpse to the chain. They drove a wooden stake through his heart. They spray painted, “kidnapper, rapist, murderer” on the cell wall. They dumped all the human waste buckets in the cells all over the body. They rinsed out the waste buckets in the giant basement sink and then poured clean water on the floors of the other two cells. They closed the cell door and locked it. They moved the key between open and closed and hammered the protruding part of the key back and forth until it snapped off. Then they pounded down the stump of the key, so nothing was exposed. They dumped epoxy glue into the lock and the hinges of the cell door. If the chief of police were going to get the corpse of his brother, it would take him days of work if he was alone. If others were to help him, it would be difficult to remove the body without someone asking serious questions about what had happened in the basement. The girls had one more round of washing themselves from their most recent bit of messy work. Now the girls were ready to leave the house, even though the washing machine had about 25 more minutes until it was finished.

Bobbie asked, “Why did you have us dump those vile buckets and mess on the body?” Mary answered, “I want the police chief to be so mad that he cannot even think of this as a crime scene. Remember how mad Julie was when we tricked her into sitting down on the dog stuff? Julie is usually so calm and collected. I want him to imagine that Samantha's father did this. He will go straight to the Barnes house and try to kill everyone. Of course, we will warn them to stay away. His anger will give him away.” Bobbie said quietly, “I thought you were crazy. You are thinking three steps ahead. Bravo for your clear head today.” And that was it. The girls ran outside, got into the van, and drove to Mary and Bobbie's house.

Samantha's Family

When they got home at about 6:15 in the evening, only Raymond was there. They barely explained their situation. Bobbie said, “These are people who have been locked in a basement for months. They need food, baths, and clothes. Raymond, organize as much food as you can as fast as you can.” Bobbie and Mary quickly filled two bathtubs with warm water and made piles of clean, relatively new clothing. They gave instructions so that everyone knew they could get a bath and food soon. While that was going on, Bobbie and Mary carried all the contraband into their room upstairs and locked the door. They got baths and food at the end of the line.

Raymond looked amazed. He just exclaimed, “You all look like you just came from a war zone. Mary, your face and hair are drenched in blood. What the fuck is going on here? Are there any wounded on the battlefield?” Bobbie answered, “Wounded. No. No wounded.” All the girls started to giggle. Raymond wanted to know what was so funny. Mary said, “We will explain everything once the parents are home. Let's start making dinner food for everybody.” Once dinner was underway, Mary said, “It is time for Samantha to go home. Samantha, tell me if there is some significant family event that happened in a public park in Portland.” Samantha said, “We lost our dog Hari Kari in Orton Park and did not find him for three days.” Mary said, “Perfect. Was Hari Kari your dog?” Samantha nodded. Mary used the dead man's cell phone and called Samantha's parents. Her dad answered the phone; Mary said, “We would like to bring you something you are missing. Come to the North side of the area where Hari Kari was lost. Drive there right now. Tell no one except your wife. If there are others there, just say that you are trying to trace a clue. We will be there in 20 minutes. Can you be there in 20 minutes?”

Bobbie said to Raymond, “Please do your best to make sure our guests of honor do not leave. Make sure everyone has a good dinner. We will be back as soon as possible.”

Finding Samantha's parents was easy. Everyone got out of their cars. Samantha's dad pointed a gun at Mary and Bobbie. Samantha yelled, “Stop! They rescued me an hour ago. I was locked in a cell until they unlocked me, fed me, bathed me, and gave me clean clothes. They are bringing me to you. Put the gun away before there is a horrible accident.”

The three girls explained what had happened. They said why they needed to be so careful. Bobbie offered to drive them to the house where the captor lay dead. Samantha's mom asked, “Is that OK with you dear, can you handle this?” Samantha said, “These brave girls killed the man who held six girls captive. If they can be so brave, I can be brave enough to give you a tour of the place where I was held.”

Bobbie explained why they were all in danger. She suggested, “Samantha should stay hiding for a couple of days. Then bring a witness, such as the mayor, and hide in the woods behind the house. While hidden, place a call to the police and say that Samantha escaped and made her way home. I predict that seven police cars and the chief of police will show up at the bad man's house. They all know damn well where Samantha is being held. The search for Samantha is a sham. You can ask the police chief why he responded that way. He will be fighting for words.”

Samantha's mother asked, “Where can she hide for four days?” Bobbie answered, “Well, she can stay with us. That way she can say goodbye to her friends who were also captives. We can get two untraceable phones so you can communicate for the next few days. Hiding may save her life. I suspect that the cops will raid your house after they find the rotting corpse of the kidnapper. They will probably intend to kill Samantha accidentally. When they raid your house, make sure you have one or two dozen cameras running. It will be a very dangerous raid. Perhaps all family members should be missing from the house. Once it is public that Samantha is free, petition the court for the kidnapper's house, assets, car, and anything else. If you refrain from making public charges, the police will assist you on your project of stripping the evil one of his assets.”

Her dad said, “You have this all plotted out. My mind is spinning. How can you be so aware of these issues?” Bobbie said, “Our parents have us well trained. They always surprise us and propose crazy emergencies and ask what we would do first, second, and third. We would all laugh if someone left out an important step. We are running on adrenaline and our training.”

They went back to the house of horrors. Her dad frowned and then smiled at the corpse removal problem that the girls had made. Samantha's Mom just cried the whole time. Her Dad just said, “I just wish that it was me that gutted that cowardly pervert. If I do get his assets, they all go to charity. I will not profit from his criminality, not even for one penny.” Bobbie put the wet laundry in a basket and brought it to the car. Samantha hugged her mother. She said, “Go with these angels. We will all be together soon enough.” She added, “If you use this car to bring Sammy back to us for good, please keep the car.”

As Bobbie drove home, she said, “Telling the parents is going to be tricky. We need to be in charge of the explanation. But they will tear us apart with questions after two sentences are out of our mouths.” Mary said, “I know, let's pretend we are police officials giving a news conference. We start with the rules. No questions until we have told the story.” Bobbie said, “I like it, we need to start with a formal statement. Mary, please take some notes.”

On the way home, Mary got a call from Sam, “What is going on here? All the parents are here, and they want to know what is going on? Who are these slaves in the house?”

A Formal Presentation at Home

I came home from work and found things chaotic at home. There were three guests with slave collars. Faith was yelling, “What the fuck has been going on?” I got bits and pieces about a basement cell and being chained up. One of the guests said something about Bobbie and Mary killing a bad man. They talked about being with Samantha Barnes. Someone said, “Mary was drenched in blood from head to foot before she took a bath.” I heard talk of pouring buckets of human waste on a corpse. No one knew where Bobbie, Mary, or Samantha was.

In this swirl of chaos, the three girls walked into the house with everyone yelling at once. I was glad that all three were walking with no obvious major injuries. Bobbie and Mary looked like they had experienced combat. They had badly bruised faces with a “hunt or be hunted” gaze. Bobbie raised her hand to show she wanted to be heard. She said, “We are giving a formal presentation in our house. Everybody go into the living room. Get as many cameras as you can. We are not repeating this for anyone. No questions until we say so.”

Bobbie started reading from her notes made in the car:

It was impossible to get through this statement without questions, shouts, and more questions. These were waved aside.

Mary did her best to explain the details, primarily as it has been laid out in this chapter. Bobbie helped fill in details. Bobbie said, “It is time for questions. Raise your hand, and we will call on you.”

I was first, “OK. I get the part about you felt that you needed to kill this guy. But what gave you the sense that you could do it? I remember what it was like to be 13. I was too scared to watch a lot of movies.” Mary replied, “I credit Bobbie for this. As we were preparing our ambush, she said that I had to use the knife to the full extent that I could. He was wearing such heavy clothing that I was afraid that I was not doing anything to him. I kept thinking of Bobbie's words as I did everything in my power to bring him down. I also know that he would have slapped me aside if it were not for Bobbie's attacks on his face. He kept trying to grab for her, but the long antenna allowed her to stay mostly out of his hands. We both got bloody noses and got smacked around a lot. I am also grateful for Raymond who beat us up so often that we could ignore being hit pretty hard.” Raymond said, “You are most welcome.” The parents just glared at Raymond.

Ruth asked, “How can you bring so many people into our house? We are on a tight budget. How are we going to pay for food, clothing, and other items for so many additional people?” Mary said, “Perhaps this will help.” She opened Barry's wallet and pulled out seven $100 bills and put them on the table in front of her. She added, “Do you realize that there is a big sack of these pieces of paper upstairs?” Ruth stated, “I do not think a 12 and a 13-year-old should have that kind of money.” Mary answered, “Of course. At the earliest possible moment, we want to turn over all of these items to our parents. Let's go upstairs so you can take every penny and dollar out of our room.”

Bobbie and Mary brought the parents into their room. They showed the bag filled with cash, gold, silver, platinum, and jewels. They turned over several compressed blocks of untaxed marijuana. Bobbie said impishly, “If you use this all up by the time we are old enough to try it, you are welcome. If you manage to save some for the day we are deemed old enough, I would appreciate it.” The parents quickly moved everything (including the $700) into a room for which no child had a key. I said quietly, “We may be financially ready to start our own business now. There is a lot to consider. Let's go downstairs and finish our formal presentation.”

Faith asked, “What do you plan to do for the next week? You cannot go to school all beat up like that.” Bobbie answered, “If we are absent, that might be bad for us. Someone might be asking schools about who has been absent. I think we will try to get a good night's sleep, use lots of makeup to hide our bruises as much as we can, and then tell people that we are in trouble at home for fighting. When we walk to school, we will come up with a simple story of why we were fighting. Perhaps we were fighting over a boy.” Mary said, “No way, we were not fighting over a boy. People would ask who, and we would be busted. I think I caught you stealing my ice cream.”

I decided to get to the heart of the matter. I asked, “OK, you claim that the perpetrator is the brother of the chief of police and that they have a criminal partnership. If you are right, then it was morally right to grab what you could from the house of horrors. If you are wrong, then the best thing to do is to return all of the items you took from the house, perhaps even the human chattel, and call the police to say what you have done was in self-defense. It appears that everything rests on your judgment. Can you walk me through this to help me understand your thinking? You are a lawyer making your case. Your parents are the jury.”

Bobbie answered, “Ladies and Gentlemen of the jury, I want you to look at our three slaves. Each of them was driven to this house of horrors by the Chief of Police. Someone use a computer and pull up his photo. Jane, Jay, and Sophia, is this the man who drove you to this house?” All three answered, “Yes.” Bobbie continued, “Is it true that each of you was picked up by the police at a scene of a crime, and the police could not verify your chain of ownership within the required one week, so you should have been turned over to an agency which could have freed you. Instead, each of you was spirited out of the police station just under the one-week deadline?” All three answered, “Yes.”

Mary picked up the argument. She added, “I think that like a lot of thieves, these two brothers were cheating on each other. I think that Barry was stealing much of the loot instead of splitting it with his brother. I think the reason Samantha was not returned for the ransom was they needed to hire someone who would pretend to rescue her. I suspect that Barry wanted to pay a low share of the reward, and John wanted to make sure that the hired rescuer would not turn on them since he had so much more to lose. I think the reason there were two safes in Barry's room was to fool John as to how much still needed to be split. I think that John thought that he could control Barry since he was chief of police, and could bring him in for any crime that he wanted. But all of this is speculation. I talked to Samantha's dad. He will report that Samantha escaped and is back home in about three or four days. If I am right, the police will go to Barry's house within minutes. Later that day, they will raid Samantha's house and attempt to kill everyone there. If I was wrong, the police will say what wonderful news and ask when they can get an official statement from Samantha. So in a few days, we will have our answer. In the meantime, hide the contraband, including the car. Everyone keep their mouth shut. No one should say anything in case someone overhears. I rest my case.”

I said, “It is bedtime for the kids. As I have said before, there is a lot to consider. I appreciate the arguments of two amazing street fighters and lawyers. The parents will be discussing this for quite a bit longer.”

Decision Time for the Parents

The parents had an all-day conference the next day. As soon as school was over, I went down to the school to pick up Mary and Bobbie so they could be asked again about the episode. The adults decided to accept Mary's analysis. We moved the contraband to a secure, empty house of a friend. We investigated the van and found that it was reported stolen, and the license plates were illegal. We found a way to sell it so they would be no trace of the sale.

I talked to the mayor of Portland and privately told him the story that the chief of police was involved in the kidnapping of Samantha Barnes. He described himself as “an old friend” of Mr. Barnes from college. I suggested a trap, “Just find a hidden place to watch his brother's house. Place a call from an untraceable phone that Samantha Barnes has rejoined her family. The chief will be there within minutes.” The mayor said, “You are crazy. There is no way you can get me to hide in the bushes.” I said, “If I get Samantha to testify in court to say that, she saw the chief of police and that she saw the chief in the basement where she was held captive, you will regret not handling this sooner.” I knew this was a lie. The other three had seen the chief, but not Samantha.

A week after the kidnapping of Mary and Bobbie, I placed a simple call to the Portland Police Department. I said, “Samantha Barnes has escaped from her kidnappers today. She is safe with her family.” and then he hung up.

Twenty minutes later, the chief of police showed up at his brother's house. Fifteen minutes later, three more police cars came. These were the most trusted lieutenants of the chief, his personal enforcers. Ninety minutes later, a truck for a welding company arrived. After the welding truck had left, the four police cars went directly to the Barnes house.

At the Barnes house, they kicked in the door and started shooting. In the living room, three mannequins dressed as mother, father, and daughter were pumped full of bullet holes and blasted by a shotgun. After the shooting had stopped, the cops had a shocked expression. One said, “Fred, we are going to have problems planting guns on these bodies! What the fuck is going on here?”

A week later, the mannequin blasters were hauled in front of a regional police commission. I do not want to waste ink or pixels listing all of the crimes they were caught on. The welders who freed the body from a steel cage had quite a story to tell. The cops were surprised that the Barnes house has loaded with twenty hidden cameras. The thefts of untraceable valuables and money laundering were what put them behind bars for years to come.

At no point did our unusual family come up in any of the official records.

Three People Added to our Household

The parents were all very concerned about Bobbie and Mary. They had survived a very traumatic experience. That night, Samantha slept in Bobbie and Mary's room. After that first day and night, the two sisters behaved normally and resumed all of their activities with their friends. A few weeks later, I sat down with Mary and asked her about the whole experience. She told me, “It was like having a test at school that is much more intense than you ever could have imagined. I feel good that it is all over, and that Bobbie and I got passing grades. I do think I might freak out if someone ever wanted to chain me in a cell in a dark basement. I am hopeful I never have to do that again in my life.” I could not detect any behavior change or any changes in Bobbie and Mary. I did not want to do anything that would call attention to what Bobbie and Mary did. I told them that all the parents were there to help them if they had any extra concerns or anxiety. Bobbie told me, “We are going to make sure that we are fine.”

The other concern was the three new people we had in our house. I quickly realized that just saying “You are free” was not fair to Ruth, Quincy, and their children, who have been asked to make a long-term commitment to our goals. I decided to look into the legal status of Jane, Jay, and Sophia. I spent a fair amount of time interviewing them to figure out all the aliases they had used, and the identities of all of their previous owners. I was able to verify their identities and trace their ownership until a few years ago. I was careful to avoid mentioning that they had been picked up by the Portland Police in the last year. Of course, the police chief had scrubbed that from all the records.

I filed a “finders/keepers” petition for them. I had to swear that they were not stolen merchandise and make a public declaration of their questionable ownership. I had them assessed, and I learned they were each worth $40,000. I had to pay a tax amounting to 20% of their assessed value. If someone else could make a better claim within a year, they would need to pay a 40% tax on their assessed value to overturn my claim. If I lost ownership, I would get a rebate of half of the tax I paid. The system gave an incentive for someone to make a shaky claim quickly. That was what I was doing. It was clear that spending several years without clear ownership was not good for these three women. The odd thing was that technically, Faith and I now owed eight human beings (Ruth, Quincy, three kids born to Ruth, and the three newcomers). Everyone got new plastic ID cards. Our new trio now had official paperwork indicating that they had a legal status. Having legal status increased their value, and the range of jobs they could handle.

At a family meeting, we decided to turn over the task of orienting our new housemates to a committee of Quincy and Julie. Since both Quincy and Julie were technically slaves, we all thought that would make communications easier. We were unsure if they would stay for a long time or a short time. We could keep them for one year and employ them as neighborhood care workers. Or we could train them to work on computers and bring them with us into our new business. Even though it was a risky venture, we decided to see if we could train them as computer programmers. This effort brought us to some surprising places on our own road in life.

The girls ranged in age from 21 to 27 years old. Jane and Sophia were white; Jay was Hispanic. They all had experience with work in bars, restaurants, and brothels. Two of them had extensive childcare and babysitting experience. Their histories were fairly similar. They were owned by people who owned bars or brothels. They would be a murder or a fight, and they would end up being owned by someone else. After a few episodes like that, it was unclear who legally owned them. When picked up in a police raid, they should have been sent to a social services agency. Instead, they ended up in a cell in a nasty basement.

Two of them had a fair amount of experience using a computer, mostly to advertise for additional part-time work. A slave had to master many skills to make their notices stand out from countless others. So that was a starting place. Quincy and Julie assessed that the trio barely had the minimum qualifications (intelligence, math background, computer background) to become computer programmers. We decided to offer a deal to give a large incentive. We told them that we would spend two years training them. Our goal was to get them to the point that they could earn $45,000 per year or $40,000 more than their current assessed salary (the salary used to value them). If they stayed with us for 12 years, we anticipated $400,000 of additional income. We offered to split the money half and half. They could not tap the funds to free themselves until the 12 years were done. But they would be freed with a $150,000 bank account. Some money would be deducted for expenses. Their eyes were as wide as saucers when we mentioned that number. We warned them it would not be easy. They would have to use their brains, not their asses or their hands. We pointed out that if they did not work out in the first two years, we had the right to “give them another placement.” They had to understand that the rewards only go to those who meet our standards. We decided that this was our version of Pygmalion.

We showed them the deed to our house and some of the founding documents of our household. Our kids were a living part of this process. Some details were new to them. We described how fair our arrangements were. We did not want to disrupt the bedrooms of our kids. We moved Ruth's and Quincy's double bed into “the master bedroom.” This freed up one bedroom for a bunk bed and a single bed for the trio. There were a lot of jokes about the four parents sharing a bedroom. We had two answers. We said, “We have slept this way in hotel rooms before without a problem” and “This arrangement will facilitate better communications.” Our answers were bland enough to avoid embarrassing questions. Our new family members were quick learners. They mastered our weekly routine, and fit in well. In the first month or so, they took over most of the cooking and cleaning while we got our training process underway. Sam was their primary teacher, but all of us pitched in.

It was clear from the start that Jay was the weakest student. We knew she would never make it. At a dinner party, we talked to a family that was frustrated at their “pre-paid” child care worker. It seems that she was always reading and studying instead of doing childcare. We swapped Jay for Patricia. Our class now had three winners. Jay was much happier doing childcare.

Bobbie, Mary, and Samantha made sure that the family retained its connections to Jay. They told me again and again that she was part of our family due to her presence in that terrible basement. Mary explained it to me, “You can swap bicycles, but you cannot swap people. We have to keep her within our circle of protection. She is part of our extended family.”

One of Sam's best lessons was asking his students to solve a problem. In parallel, he would solve the problem as well. At different “mileposts” of the project, they would lay out all four solutions. Sam's lessons were collaborative and helped bring the best out of each student. There were a few times that I would listen in, and decide that I wished that I had professors in college as friendly and as educational as Sam.


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