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you
think I don’t know the man who took you home? Come on! I’ll call
him and then I’ll take you home." He swept his hand in a grand
gesture, toward the waiting cab and stepped aside to let her
pass.
    Still a little apprehensive, Jen knew this
was the best chance she had. She smiled and stood up. She shyly
nodded and walked past him to the taxi. He rushed ahead and opened
the back door for her. Jen bent down and stepped into the cab. She
slid into the middle of the back seat and felt hopeful for the
first time in hours. The driver slid into the front seat and closed
his door. He pulled a new cigarette from his shirt pocket and lit
it in the same cupping manner as he had outside. He rolled the
front windows down slightly, and exhaled slowly, letting the smoke
flow up his face and through his hair before drifting out the
window. Some of it came into the back of the taxi and she coughed,
but he left her windows up. Jen noticed that there were no door
locks or window controls visible back here, and there was a clear
plastic partition between her seat in the back and the front of the
cab. She suddenly felt uncomfortable and changed her mind about
trusting this man. She reached over and tried the door handle. It
moved with no resistance and had no effect on the door. She
instinctively looked back toward the bazaar for help, and against
all odds, she saw her aunt standing near the street looking for
her!
    Jen banged a hand on the partition and said,
“Hey, I need to get out!" The man ignored her. She hit the plastic
harder and shouted, “Hey! Can you hear me? I think I see my aunt! I
see my aunt!" He started the car and pulled away from the curb
without any indication he heard her. Jen pounded on the window as
he drove her quickly past Aunt Fatima and away. Jen screamed as
loudly as she could and pounded on the window. Through tear filled
eyes, she saw her aunt turn toward her and reach out as Jen was
taken. Jen screamed and watched as a shrinking Fatima held a hand
to her mouth in horror and then ran back toward the bazaar.

Chapter F our
    In the back of the car Jen sat, trembling.
She had tried kicking and hitting the windows and doors, but
nothing had worked. She tried screaming and crying, pleading and
demanding, but those had not worked either. She also tried
signaling to other drivers as they passed, but no one paid her any
attention. She was frightened and still had no idea where she might
be, but she knew that there was always some way to improve a
situation. She was a sucker for shows with willful and creative
heroes or heroines. She sat against the passenger side door and
tried to think her way out. “What else can I try?” she
thought. She tapped her foot on the floor and found it was solid. “Duh." She leaned back against the seat, about to give up
when she remembered a show where a girl had been locked in a trunk.
She had climbed through the back seat to get out. “Maybe I can
get out by crawling through the trunk!” she thought.
    Jen began tearing at the back seat. She
pulled at the top with no luck and then tried from the bottom where
the seat-back met the seat cushion. She lifted up and pulled out.
It moved! Jen wrenched the seat-back off of the tabs holding it to
the framework between her and the trunk and stopped. The spaces
between welded supports were too small for her to crawl through.
There would be no escaping through the trunk. Jen screamed in
frustration and turned back around. She didn’t bother putting the
seat-back back into position she just sat against it and fumed.
    “ No! I won ’t let
you do this to me!” she suddenly shouted. Jen turned around placing
her back against the plastic partition. She maneuvered onto her
side and put one leg up and over the back seat, and held herself up
with her other knee on the seat and a shoulder against the
partition. She began mule kicking the rear window. The first kick
was awkward and she had to reposition to get a solid kick. The next
one was