Not yet. That does have a huge part of the story, though. No. The grandparents I mentioned earlier? Their names were Norma and Irv Manders. Fantastic people. Irv saw a scruffy looking father and daughter on the side of the road and took them home to have lunch and rest a bit.
[She smiles slightly.] I remember eating so much, I thought I'd split. The Shop found us there and Irv, who was about 70 at the time, saw me absolutely terrified of these men in business suits who drove up the road to their house and stood on his porch with a deer rifle, demanding to be shown a warrant.
Irv was shot and out of anger and fear, I reacted. I ended up causing a lot of damage to the people trying to catch us and while I still regret it to a degree, I'm more relieved that it scared them off.
Irv was kind enough to give us an old Jeep of his and we drove it to Tashmore, Maine where we owned a cabin. We stayed there for a whole winter and my dad had this idea to send letters to all of the major newspapers. He hoped that one of them would print it and The Shop would back off. Unfortunately, winters are kind of harsh in Maine. The most my dad could go into town for were supplies. Mail was a little harder to get out.
When he finally could get the letters mailed out, they were intercepted by The Shop and one day when we were leaving, my dad and I were tranquilized.
When I woke up, I found myself in probably one of the most luxurious rooms I'd ever seen. But it was The Shop and I didn't know where my dad was so I didn't care. They kept saying I could see him, I just had to show them what I could do and for months, I refused.
So, they had the guy that tranquilized me from some hidden spot somewhere, come in and pretend to just be some common place, kindhearted janitor. I fell for it after a while. He said he'd get letters to my dad and I believed him. I trusted him so much that I started cooperating with The Shop. I demonstrated my ability on woodchips. Piles of logs. Cinderblocks. Whatever they put in front of me, just because they kept promising I'd see my dad. Really, all that was going to happen was the janitor was allowed to get rid of me once they were done.
I think my dad knew I was in danger because he pushed someone into getting a note to me and we planned our escape.
We made it as far as the barn before the orderly I told you about showed who he really was and shot my dad. I think I regret how I reacted to that a lot less than I do my reaction to the Manders farm. And I feel awful for admitting that.
Re: action:
[She smiles slightly.] I remember eating so much, I thought I'd split. The Shop found us there and Irv, who was about 70 at the time, saw me absolutely terrified of these men in business suits who drove up the road to their house and stood on his porch with a deer rifle, demanding to be shown a warrant.
Irv was shot and out of anger and fear, I reacted. I ended up causing a lot of damage to the people trying to catch us and while I still regret it to a degree, I'm more relieved that it scared them off.
Irv was kind enough to give us an old Jeep of his and we drove it to Tashmore, Maine where we owned a cabin. We stayed there for a whole winter and my dad had this idea to send letters to all of the major newspapers. He hoped that one of them would print it and The Shop would back off. Unfortunately, winters are kind of harsh in Maine. The most my dad could go into town for were supplies. Mail was a little harder to get out.
When he finally could get the letters mailed out, they were intercepted by The Shop and one day when we were leaving, my dad and I were tranquilized.
When I woke up, I found myself in probably one of the most luxurious rooms I'd ever seen. But it was The Shop and I didn't know where my dad was so I didn't care. They kept saying I could see him, I just had to show them what I could do and for months, I refused.
So, they had the guy that tranquilized me from some hidden spot somewhere, come in and pretend to just be some common place, kindhearted janitor. I fell for it after a while. He said he'd get letters to my dad and I believed him. I trusted him so much that I started cooperating with The Shop. I demonstrated my ability on woodchips. Piles of logs. Cinderblocks. Whatever they put in front of me, just because they kept promising I'd see my dad. Really, all that was going to happen was the janitor was allowed to get rid of me once they were done.
I think my dad knew I was in danger because he pushed someone into getting a note to me and we planned our escape.
We made it as far as the barn before the orderly I told you about showed who he really was and shot my dad. I think I regret how I reacted to that a lot less than I do my reaction to the Manders farm. And I feel awful for admitting that.