Chocolate for Maya

Note regarding sensitive material: this story is about child abduction though no violence to children occurs during the story. There are violent scenes where the criminals perish.

“Where is my candy? I was told that if I got in this white, windowless van, that there would be candy.”

The articulate eight-year-old girl, clay-colored cheeks framed with tight black ringlets, surveyed the inside of the dirty van, scrutinizing the torn interior and its occupants. She was not impressed nor afraid, much to the astonishment of her captors.

“Give her the candy, Sam,” said the man at the wheel.

Sam, dressed in a red collared shirt and dirty jeans, dug into his pocket and withdrew a tiny gold foil covered peanut butter cup. He grinned as he held it out to the girl, who snatched it away as if he might pull it back.

In seconds she had discarded the foil and had the small piece of candy in her mouth, smiling as the chocolate and peanut butter melted.

The van lurched into traffic from the playground’s parking lot. The girl stumbled, still standing in the back. Looking around, she saw the tarp, the ropes, and the trash. She looked at Sam, smiling with an odd glint in his eye as he took a seat on the swivel captain’s seat behind the driver.

“Is there more?” she asked.

“Did you hear that Bear, she wants more.”

Both men laughed, and she laughed with them, but louder. When they were done, she stopped smiling, stamped her foot, and spoke with such authority that Sam startled.

“More!”

Bear, the driver, sighed. “Give her the bag. It’ll keep her quiet until we get to the cabin.”

“Will there be candy at the cabin?” asked the girl.

“Oh year, lots of candy,” said Sam leering as he fished in the front center console for the bag of off-brand snack sized peanut butter cups.

She took the bag of candy that Sam offered and squatted on the floor, unwrapping each piece of candy lightning fast and popping it into her mouth, savoring the flavors as they melted on her tongue. Chocolate dripped from the corners of her mouth, and her eyes rolled back.

“Bear, this kid is weird.”

“What? Naw; kids love candy and that’s why we use it.”

She looked up and innocently said, “I love chocolate. My family always lets me have it whenever I want. I drink it in the mornings, and have it for lunch, and again at dinner as a sauce over the meat.”

“Yeah, kid, chocolate is great. Why don’t you be quiet for the rest of the trip?”

“I will have this,” said the girl, leaning down and scooping a dirty white sweater off the van floor. Blood stained one sleeve, but she hardly noticed as she put it on over her school uniform. She sniffed at the sweater and smiled, teeth and lips stained with chocolate.

“Chaac and Jaguar will like this,” she said.

“Yeah, and who are they?” asked Bear from the front seat, grinning as he played along with her, like a cat playing with its prey.

“They are my parents. They like chocolate, but they also like meat. The sweater smells like meat.”

Bear laughed unevenly.

She went back to eating the chocolate until the bag was empty.

“More.”

“Ain’t got no more in the van,” said Sam. “You done ate it all.”

“There’s more at the cabin?”

“Yeah, lots more. More candy and more meat. Maybe we shoulda invited your parents.”

“It’s fine; they will come.”

Both men laughed.

‘Not likely,” said Sam. “This cabin is way up in the mountains where no one can find it. No one can find you. You can scream for days, and no one’ll come.”

“Why would I scream?”

“We will give you plenty of reasons to scream. We are going to put you in a cage with lots of other children, and then we are going to sell you.”

Sam’s eyes gleamed with evil intent, but soon turned disappointed when the little girl just asked if she would have to share her chocolate with the other children.

“Bear, can we just get rid of this one? She’s creepy.”

“No, because she makes twelve. We get paid and the brats get picked up when we have a dozen. Once she’s in the cage with the others, she will bawl like a baby. If not, we can make her bawl, just don’t leave any marks.”

The little girl smiled at Sam, a too big smile with a few too many teeth.

“What’s your name, kid?” asked Sam.

“Maya. I am Maya, and I like chocolate and meat, and dancing.”

“Well, Maya, soon you will be with more kids, and you can dance to your heart’s content.”

“You will dance too; every twenty days we dance—everyone dances.”

“Sam, shut her up. She’s creeping me out,” said Bear.

Sam looked around for a length of rope and reached out to grab the girl, but she was quick and darted to the back door of the van, hissing.

“Fine, stay back there and stay quiet,” said Sam.

Maya knelt in the back of the van, looking through the odd items. She found a tooth and wrapped piece of chocolate, which she put in her pocket. She found a comic book, which she read, one about a masked hero that saves a school bus from a monster.

“Finally,” said Bear as they pulled down the half-concealed dirt road through the forest.

A third man was on the front porch, leaning against the door when they pulled up.

“Took you long enough; I’ve been trying to call you. Answer your damn phone. Customer is on the way. I told them the lot was ready and gave them directions.”

Bear and Sam gave each other a look, but said nothing.

“What, you got her, right?”

“Yeah, but this one is weird,” said Sam.

“Don’t care. We just grab ‘em and cage ‘em. That’s the job.”

Bear looked at Maya, motioning her toward the cabin.

Maya hopped out of the van, wearing the bloody sweater and carrying the comic book. She produced the tooth from her pocket, saying, “Look what I found. It’s an offering from the van so I don’t destroy it.”

“See,” said Sam, “weird.”

The men pushed her ahead of them into the two-room cabin. The main room was filled with large kennels, two children per kennel, both girls and boys, all young, all dirty and dazed, as if they’d cried all they could and had given up.

“This is sad,” said Maya. “These children are almost empty.” Then she yelled at the top of her lungs, “Whose tooth?” before the men could clamp a hand over her mouth.

A little girl in one cage started crying and saying, “My tooth.”

Maya smiled and popped the tooth into her own mouth and swallowed.

“You’re welcome,” she said quietly as lightning struck the cabin repeatedly and the electricity failed; appliances and lights popped and fizzled. The cabin went dark, as dark as night, even though it was still afternoon. In the distance, the hoarse roar of a jaguar pierced the darkness. The sound increased in volume and ferociousness as it drew closer. The men grabbed their guns, looking around, taking defensive positions in the dark.

“It’s just some mountain cat,” said Bear before something came crashing through the window, snarling and growling, and Bear’s screams became gargled cries. Sam and the other man fired at the big cat, but the bullets seemed to pass right through. Then it turned on them and leapt, catching Sam in its massive paws and dragging him backwards.

The children were screaming, but not so loud that the last man couldn’t hear the sirens approaching the cabin. He surveyed the room as the big cat lazily leapt onto the ledge of the back window, blocking it while leaving. The man grabbed Maya to use as a shield and bargaining chip, pulling her high in front of his chest, gun at her temple. He walked through the front door.

Maya looked at the man calmy and reached into her pocket to fish out the last piece of chocolate. She pushed her child-sized hand into the man’s mouth and lodged the chocolate deep in his throat. He gagged, dropping Maya to tear at his neck, bending over, trying to cough up the foil-wrapped peanut butter cup, but it was stuck.

Before the police could run to Maya’s help, he was convulsing on the ground at her feet.

“Everyone dances,” said Maya, looking at the officers, smiling, her face still covered with chocolate.