Let's Go Play at the Adams'

tied, couldn't seem to bend over properly and pick it up again. Dianne went-, in, bent to get it,

and Barbara grabbed her. Strong, elastic swimmer's fingers dug into Dianne's neat hair and

seized a handful at the roots. Though only Barbara's right hand was free and then only from

the elbow down, all her strength was concentrated there, and it was clear to her and to Dianne

that

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she was never going to let go. The hair strained at the roots with the force of the grip.

Moreover, Barbara threw her hip and cracked Dianne's head against the side of the sink for

emphasis. Then it was all confused.

Dianne yelled, of course. The sound was one of surprise, sudden pain, and anger but-it was still

cool Dianne-not quite panic. Her own hands shot above her head and engaged Barbara. Then

she was hipped against the sink again, and her eyes momentarily lost clear focus.

The rest of Freedom Five came banging into the bathroom, wide-eyed and thoughtless, and

there was instant battle. Barbara seemed determined to never, never let go, and even

hobbled, resisted their tries at getting her fingers loose. Dianne hurt, and she continually made

just exactly that noise as she tried to get up from her knees where Barbara had her forced. In

the tumble of bodies, naked and clothed, nothing was clear except the central issue of

Barbara-must-let-go-or-Dianne-will-be hurt, versus Barbara-must-hold-on-and-hurt-Dianne.

They swayed and twisted; Paul was pushed across the edge of the empty bathtub and fell in it;

Cindy fled; Bobby got his hands tangled up with Dianne's and Barbara's. Only John could solve

it and only his way.

He doubled his fist and, in contradiction to all his upbringing, hit Barbara on the face. His blow

aimed at the chin went high and 'struck her just in front of the ear, but it was delivered with

such sincerity that she, in tum, lost focus, and her hand in response released Dianne and tried

to reach up to the hurt, and then John hit her again. There was no one to catch her. Hobbled,

she could not step back and so fell against the wall and slid down sideward, spinning the roll of

toilet paper out in a stream as she did so. Then everything was changed again.

In the succeeding tableau-it was a half second later-Dianne was sitting, crying, on the tile floor,

her head in her hands, face out of sight. Barbara, bound as ever, lay twisted and half out of

sight behind the toilet, and John, now the frantic one, was grotesquely trying

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to get at her and rip the tape from her mouth. She mustn't cry or she might suffocate

behind her gag. Finally everything subsided.

Dianne, crying, got slowly up and stumbled blindly from the bathroom, down the hall, into

the living room, and threw herself onto the couch, still cradling her face in her hands. For

some time she remained there, her tears gradually slowing, her control returning. In the

bathroom itself, Barbara lay in a fettered S on the floor, her face white, her cheek against

the cold tiles. Paul followed Dianne and stood over her in helpless spasm; Cindy stood

timidly behind him while John and Bobby watched over the prisoner. More minutes passed.

When Barbara's eyes showed clear and intelligent again, John and Bobby dragged her feet

first, breasts down against the floor, to a space where they could get at her. Rolling her

over, they took the free hand and tied it back to the other_ behind her. She said things like

"Don't-" and "Please- " and "It hurts-" and all they got out of it was that she was OK now.

Afterward, they regagged her and doubled the tape over her mouth. The rebellion was over

for the time.

Barbara's brief night view of Bobby with his outsized shotgun (or so it seemed to her), his

boy's face frightened and determined all at once, the silence that followed when he

abandoned his post in the house and slipped outside, all produced in her a new degree of

desperation. She would not be passed on by captors to a new captor, winners to new

winner. A possible escape plan she had formed much earlier came back to mind.

Because the children were not getting more careless with her but only more expert, she

could expect only less and less possible freedom as time went by. Already an opportunity

to put her idea to work had slipped by her because things had not been serious enough,

because she was too squeamish. Because, because, because. But I have to now, Barbara

said.

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It had begun as a simple if desperate proposition.

During a moment when she had even partial movement of one hand, she would grab one of

the children and hold on until the rest of them let her go. Since with the chloroform and by

weight of number they could easily thwart this, she shifted to a variation. With the momen-

tarily free hand she would hurt one of the children. This would eventually cause adult

investigation, and investigation would lead to her rescue hence release.