MARY JANE'S STORIES: THE KIDNAPPING

MARY JANE'S STORIES: THE KIDNAPPING

Peter was not very different from many other young people of his age: he was a hospital employee on a decent monthly wage, in love with his new partner with whom he shared a rented house, owner of a sports car that he could afford after years of sacrifices and which he considered a small luxury, even if useless and superfluous, somehow desired. There were also other aspects of Peter's life, hidden from the eyes of the world and preserved in the past, which made him a peculiar person: a childhood spent in a college of priests after being estranged from his family, an ex-wife who had married him only to gain independence from his parents' home (and which had dragged him into endless divorce practices after only a short time from the wedding), and the disbandment of the band in which he played the guitar and which seemed to symbolize the turning point of his life. But, after all, Peter always found something to enjoy and a new motivation to continue to lead his days in harmony. One day, however, something happened that, aggressively and unexpectedly, broke the quiet of the ordinary everyday. It was a warm late spring afternoon and, after a tiring week of work, Peter decided to enjoy some entertainment with his partner. While he parked his Beta Coupé in the parking lot that flanked the bank, he was still intent on deciding what to do: a trip to the lake? A night at the cinema? Or maybe dinner at a restaurant? He knew that Tina would also enjoy a simple walk in the town park, but he wanted to give her something different, an experience they were not suited to living every day. He withdrew some cash at the counter, left the bank still lost in thought and headed for the car. His carelessness did not give him the time to notice a couple, a man and a woman, in the vicinity of his car, waiting for the owner. As soon as he inserted the key into the door lock a voice behind him ordered him, “Sit in the back seat. Quick, move! ”. After saying these words, the man rested the barrel of his submachine gun against Peter's back, encouraging him to settle in the back and hand over the car keys to the woman who was to drive. Trying to stay calm, Peter asked the kidnappers where they were taking him. He had no idea what plan they had in store for him, if they were going to kill him or just hurt him and leave him by the side of some road, but he thought maybe their only interest was the car. He took care to tell them that they could keep the car, that he didn't care about getting it back; he just wanted to be able to go home and hug Tina again. The two were quite silent, and the machine gun aimed at the stomach left no way to think in total clarity. Perhaps he could have tried to open the door and jump out of the speeding vehicle, but the man's finger wielded the trigger so tightly that he would have been quicker to open fire and fatally wound him. Continuing to ask questions would only irritate the pair of thugs who, most likely, were already extremely euphoric. He decided to wait and keep his eyes peeled on the road; perhaps a fortuitous chance could have saved his skin. The two seemed to want to reach Milan through the state road instead of the highway, certainly to avoid the surveillance cameras at the toll booths. Traffic played a trick on them, and they found themselves having to stop the car repeatedly due to a queue at the gates of the freeway. At that point, they were afraid that someone might notice the kidnapping or that some patrol might stop them and discover the wrongdoing. After a few interminable minutes, Peter was instructed on what to do: they would pull over near the prison, and he would get out of the car and start walking in the opposite direction, as if nothing had happened. Peter obeyed orders; he got off casually and walked towards the town. The center was at least a kilometer and a half away, and the sun was scorching. Fortunately, a police car was on patrol in those parts. He raised his arms to the sky asking the officers to stop and, after briefly recounting what had happened, he was taken to the station to record everything. He was accompanied home and was finally able to abandon himself in the security that those walls and, above all, the face of his companion aroused in him. The following day Peter received news about the case: the couple, after letting him get out of the vehicle, robbed a bank in one of the neighboring cities and then headed to Milan and abandoned the car, now in ruins, in the suburbs. Peter was just happy to be able to live another day with his beloved, and breathed a sigh of relief whenever the events of that experience came to mind. In the following years he took care not to tell that episode to his daughters, but I never understood why Peter did not. I could only have been proud of my brave dad!

Martina