Kidnapped! - episode 4

[We just left the parking garage and I made $5.]

Soon after leaving the Government Center Garage we made a wrong turn and went over the Charlestown Bridge into Charlestown. Like many cities, Boston is quite segregated, and Charlestown was not where these two wanted to be. We pulled to the side of the road. There was a change of plans. I would now drive with one in the seat next to me. The other with the gun at my head would be in the back. I was to drive to my apartment…and instructed to get out of Charlestown.

As I said, this was the first time I had driven to work. I knew I could follow Beacon St. or Commonwealth Ave. and get to my apartment, but I was in no hurry to do that. Also, I am not blessed with the greatest sense of direction. I'm not certain of all the places I drove—Cambridge, Newton, Back Bay. Between not wanting to take them to my place and my unfamiliarity with Boston, I managed to drive for a couple of hours around Boston without finding my apartment.

At various times my assailants were incredulous.

"Do you believe this guy?" was said more than once. "How can anyone not know where they live?"

But I continued to drive. All the while I was thinking of how I could outsmart them and escape. I ran through every TV crime, cowboy, or detective show trying to think of how the stars got out of their impossible situation. Once I was stopped at a traffic light and I thought I could quickly open the car door and roll out before I would be shot. As I looked over at the car door, I realized I had put on my seat belt. Why did I do that? Scratch that plan.

Another time we were stopped at a light and at the opposite end of the intersection, facing us, was a police car. Unfortunately, they saw the police car also, and the one in the back put the gun up against the back of my head and cocked it.

"Don't do anything foolish or you are dead," he said or words to that effect. By this time I felt that the gun must be empty. The way they were handling it; if it even went off accidentally, they would be facing a murder charge. In fact my real fear was getting hit on head with the gun rather than getting shot. Of course, I later learned it was loaded.

[To be continued…]