Raised in Captivity by Chuck Klosterman

Raised in Captivity by Chuck Klosterman

Author:Chuck Klosterman
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Penguin Publishing Group
Published: 2019-07-15T16:00:00+00:00


The Enemy Within

She was not under arrest. They told her that at least twenty times. She was not under arrest, she was not in danger, and they were all on her side. They only needed to ask a few questions. Her captors did not wear uniforms or masks, nor did they provide identification. They gently shoved her into the backseat of a Toyota Prius and drove to an anonymous brick building in an undisclosed location. They entered the building through a side door that led to a basement, poorly ventilated and sparsely furnished. The leader (or at least the person who appeared to be leading) told her to sit anywhere she liked, but he pointed toward one particular chair as he said this. He offered her a LaCroix, which she declined.

“Your name is Cookie Dupree,” he said with the upspeak of a question.

“Yes,” she replied.

“You live at 1332 Weathervane Lane,” he said, again with the upspeak.

“Yes.”

“You live with a man named Henry Skrabble.”

“Yes,” she said. “Henry is my boyfriend.”

Her captors ricocheted glances. One began furiously typing into her phone. Another crossed his arms and exhaled. The leader seemed to relax.

“That’s good, Cookie. Thanks for being so straightforward,” he said. “I need to ask some questions about Henry Skrabble. Answer these questions honestly. It will only take a few minutes, and then you can leave. Nothing untoward will happen to you, regardless of what you say. This is a safe place. We are not the Symbionese Liberation Army. You are not Patty Hearst. No one is ending up in the closet.”

Cookie wasn’t sure why she believed him, but she did. Maybe it was his voice. It was the right timbre for a nonviolent hostage situation: earnest and sincere, but also respectful, but also intelligent, but also monotone, but also similar to the tenor one uses when addressing a child.

“Let’s begin,” said the leader. “Are you aware of the television programs Henry likes to watch on his laptop computer?”

“The television programs?”

“When he’s going to sleep,” said the leader. “When he’s in bed, watching TV on his thirteen-inch MacBook Air, preparing to sleep. Can you identify which specific programs he prefers to watch?”

“I . . . I think I can.”

“Do these TV shows, of which there are obviously many, include that series about the transgender family, or that show about young women in Brooklyn, or the show about hip-hop artists living in Georgia, or the show about the woman who kills for pleasure, or the show where the protagonist and the antagonist are the same person? These are his favorite shows, correct? When asked to list his favorite TV shows on various social media platforms, these are the shows he typically lists. Correct?”

“I’m not sure,” said Cookie. “Maybe. Probably. I mean, he definitely watched shows like that, when they were on. We both did. But I don’t think they’re even on anymore. Are they still on?”

“That’s irrelevant,” said the leader. “Now, can you tell me why he liked these television programs?”

Cookie squinted.

“What was his reasoning?” asked the leader.



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