The Boy Who Appeared from the Rain
Page 111
When he couldn't take sitting at the bottom of the garbage can any longer, Zach removed the lid and stood up. But he didn't leave the can or his closet. The Asian men might still be out there in the market somewhere, watching for him, and the mere thought turned his skin clammy. He wanted to stay here until dark, when it would be easier for him to move around outside and escape—but with neither clock nor window, how was he to know when it was dark?
For a long time he stood in the garbage can, afraid to leave it lest someone come to check inside the closet again. He didn't have to stay seated in it, though; standing there he could at least stretch and move a little.
His legs felt weak after sitting for so long. And he hadn't eaten a good meal in over a day; that, too, had to be part of why they shook beneath him. And sleep—he hadn't slept at all since waking up for school yesterday.
Does getting kidnapped excuse my absence? he wondered at random. Surely Mom and Dad would explain the situation to Mr. Herd. Was my class worried about me? I would have gotten to go to Cayden's house today if I had cleaned my room yesterday, if I hadn't gotten kidnapped…
Did Mom know I was going to get kidnapped yesterday?
No! he scolded himself. Grandfather is wrong! But Grandfather had been right about everything, even about Zach making life hard for Mom and Dad recently.
How long had they planned it?
He remembered what Hugh had said. They had sold him to Hugh for a lot of money. At least he was wasn't sold cheap…
His mind wandered a long time, until suddenly the doorknob rattled again. In a flash, he ducked back into the garbage can and closed the lid over himself. The door opened and someone came inside. He heard the person moving supplies around.
The garbage can moved—tipped to the side a little, but was quickly dropped flat again. A man grunted. "Who left the can full?" he asked in an irritated voice.
The lid suddenly lifted. A man, the janitor, looked straight down at Zach and yelled, jumping backward. Zach jumped, too, and the garbage can fell over onto its side. He fumbled his way out and stood, cornered.
Short and mostly bald on top, and still yelling, the janitor snatched up a broom and brandished it bristles-first like a sword, staring wide-eyed at Zach.
Zach scurried with his back against the wall, edging his way around the man and his broom toward the door.
"Out!" the janitor demanded. "Get out of my trash can! Get out of my closet!"
He swung the straw end of the broom at Zach, slapping him on the backside as Zach bolted out the door and into the hallway. The man yelled once more as Zach ran away, up the nearest flight of stairs, down a corridor, and up a ramp to the main level of the market.
It wasn't dark outside yet, but it was still raining, and the rain gave everything a wet, gray sheen. Zach slowed his feet and, with his heart pounding madly, made his way as calmly as he could between two market stalls, one selling flowers and the other offering fresh Yakima apples that tempted his famished eyes. It wasn't safe here, but he didn't want to draw attention by running. He exited onto the busy street outside, where pedestrians thronged the road in spite of the rain and slowed the single lane of traffic to a trickle.
Zach walked with the people, attempting to blend in, breathing deeply. The rain helped to calm him. He kept his eyes alert, scanning all around. The last thing he wanted was for the Asian men to see him and sneak up on him before he could escape again.
He wandered around the market, moving through it without any real sense for where he was headed. Rounding a corner, Zach stopped short. He saw Mom!—or thought he had. His eyes had passed over a cluster of people moving past a building, and she had been there, and also a man who might have been Dad—but when his eyes darted back to find them, they were gone. He hurried that way, but it was no use; his mind must have been playing tricks on him. What would Mom and Dad be doing at Pike Place Market today? No one but the Asian men and Grandfather knew he was here.
He found himself back at the center of the market, across the street from the store where they threw the salmon. A police officer watched from half a block away on his side of the street, looking in the opposite direction. Zach edged backward, out of sight of the officer; he wanted nothing to do with the police. He didn't want to go back to Hugh.
Aromas wafted his way from a food stand somewhere nearby, reminding him again how hungry he was. He smelled French fries and swiveled to scan the building behind him. It seemed familiar—yes, Mom and Dad had taken him to a little restaurant inside it for lunch. He entered the building and quickly found the diner, set in a triangular room near the building's center.
Zach felt inside his pocket. His money was still there, the ten dollars Dad had given him at the store months ago—he still had that with him, waiting for just the right time to spend it. Now, for food, seemed as good a time as any.
He entered the diner. A woman dressed like a cook stood behind the counter and looked away from her cell phone just long enough to register that he was there. "What can I get for you?" she asked.
"Can I buy some French fries?" Zach inquired.
"Just fries? All by themselves?"
"Is that okay?" He wasn't sure; Mom and Dad had never let him have just fries before.
"Whatever you want, darling," she shrugged, and rang up his order. Zach handed her his ten-dollar bill and received his change. The woman headed back into the kitchen. "Sit wherever you like. I'll bring them out to you."
All the tables were empty; Zach was the only customer at the moment. Gazing warily through the diner's windows into the center of the building, where people passed by every few seconds, he chose the table where Mom and Dad had sat with him weeks ago. It happened to be situated where he could keep an eye out the windows for the two Asian men. If he spotted them, maybe he could duck down under the table before they saw him.
The cook returned after a minute, handed him a basket of fries, and disappeared again, eyes locked on her phone all the way. Zach thrust a fistful of the fries into his mouth—they were the big, thick kind, soft on the inside, incredibly delicious. He swallowed them as quickly as he could chew them, enjoying the sudden warmth in his belly and the satisfaction of having something solid there after so many hours of emptiness.
He had nearly consumed them all when one of the Asian men—the taller one—came walking down the corridor toward the diner! Zach gasped and ducked under the table, not daring to look out for a full minute, trembling. When he finally peeked out from beneath the table, the man was gone. He must not have seen Zach, but his presence meant they were still here, searching for him. He had begun to feel safe, like maybe they had given up and left, but they hadn't, and he wasn't. In spite of being drenched from walking in the rain, he began to sweat. He swallowed the last of his fries, set another of Grandfather's photographs on his chair, and crept cautiously to the door.
With a stealthy look down the open-ended corridor again, he saw that the Asian man had gone. But that didn't mean he wouldn't come back this way.
Zach had to get out of Pike Place Market, and quickly. A stairway ascended from the center of the corridor; Mom and Dad had taken him up those stairs to a street east of the market. Keeping his ears open for the voices of the Asian men, he climbed the stairs and took a short walkway that led to freedom outside.
People bustled everywhere and traffic clogged the street. Zach moved uncertainly down the block until he found a recess in the wall of a building; he ducked into it and felt safer, half-hidden from the pedestrians streaming by. The Asian men would have to walk directly in front of him to see him.
Chilly rain found him in the recess, soaking him as he huddled against the wall. It felt wonderful. It made him think of Mom and how she thought it so strange that he loved to go outside in the rain, but let him do it anyway. He wished he could go to her, but how could he when Grandfather had been right? Mom and Dad had sold him to Hugh. He didn't know what to do. One thing was certain, though:
whatever happened, he would never, ever think it a small thing to get to eat French fries or walk in the rain.