Abducted

by Brian Pinkerton

  From what Anita had heard on the neighborhood grapevine, Barbara’s kids could be a handful. Barbara looked perpetually tired, never wore makeup, yet remained attractive. Her husband was a dentist with a storefront office slotted between a submarine sandwich joint and a laundromat at a nearby strip mall. Anita and Dennis saw them at the yearly block party barbecue, and they waved at one another from passing vehicles from time to time. Barbara had the best garden on the block; God knows where she found the time. Anita didn’t know her extremely well—but well enough to trust her. Despite the baby voice, she was serious and seemed smart.

  In fact, her shopping cart was heavy with healthy food: fruits, vegetables, grains. Embarrassed, Anita stood strategically in front of the junk food selections that mingled with baby jars of rice cereal, squash, and sweet potatoes in her cart.

  Tim cooed. He was snuggled into his detachable car seat, which was snapped securely into the front of the shopping cart. The coo was Barbara’s cue to come closer and take a look.

  “What a beautiful little boy,” said Barbara. “Look at those lashes and that hair. How old is he?”

  “Six months,” said Anita, sharing in the opportunity to beam over Tim.

  “Sleeping through the night?”

  “Yes, he’s a real sweetheart.”

  Tim’s eyes were alert, taking in the two friendly faces, and he smiled back at them.

  “What a great smile,” remarked Barbara.

  Anita delicately pulled down Tim’s lower lip to show off his first tooth and the bump in his gum that would soon be tooth number two. “He’s been drooling up a storm lately.”

  “I’ll bet it’s going to break your heart to leave him,” said Barbara, tickling lightly under his chin, encouraging the smiles to continue. “When do you have to go back to work?”

  “Well, fortunately I’m good friends with the person I work for, so they’ve kept it flexible. But it’s been a long time, and they’re getting impatient. Business is booming, for better or worse.”

  Barbara nodded. “I admire moms who can juggle it all, working and the kids. Sometimes, as much as I love my kids, I feel they’ve robbed me of some of my identity. You know, in some ways, your career is who you are. You’re Sam the dentist, or Jerry the lawyer, or Anita who makes educational CD-ROMs. I’m Barbara the housewife.”

  Anita nodded, didn’t know what to say. Tell her that she had made the right decision when it was the direct opposite of her own choice?

  Fortunately, Tim diverted attention from the conversation with a burp, followed by a truly boyish grin of pride.

  “I better let you go,” said Barbara. “But call me and I’ll give you Pam’s number. She’ll be so excited.”

  “Don’t tell her anything definite,” said Anita. “I haven’t discussed this with my husband. We’re going to want to meet her first, and start with some babysitting, to test her out.” I hope it doesn’t sound like we don’t trust her recommendation, thought Anita. “We want to make sure she clicks with Tim.”

  “Who wouldn’t click with such an adorable, sweet boy,” smiled Barbara, looking at him again. Tim’s eyes were taking in all the colors and lights of the grocery store. He reached out, as if to grab at something on one of the towering shelves.

  Barbara’s number was unlisted, so Anita wrote it on the back of an expired coupon in her purse.

  They said their goodbyes. Anita advanced to her next destination, the most familiar spot in the store: diapers and wipes.

  Stocking up, she couldn’t stop thinking of the odd concept of having a stranger in her house taking care of her baby—somebody else would be doing most of this diapering and wiping while she returned to computers and meetings across the Bay. Was it really the right thing to do?

  She couldn’t help but recall Barbara’s tone of despair and defeat when calling herself a “housewife.” Did people take housewives less seriously than working mothers? Was a housewife somehow a lower class of being? The quality of daytime TV seemed to cater to that thought.

  Later that afternoon, Anita sat in the rocking chair in the baby’s room, breastfeeding Tim in the semidarkness while fresh spring air rolled in through the windows. His eyes were closed, mouth moving, little hands pressed against her chest. His face was so achingly precious, his features still so tiny, right down to his miniature square fingernails. Anita felt horrible pangs of sadness. She stroked his hair.

  She knew she would have to rent a breast pump to pump milk at work at regular intervals…so someone else could feed it to him. How weird was that?

  I’m going to leave him with a stranger…

  But I know so many people who have done it…

  Does it make it the right thing to do…

  I never told Maggie I wasn’t coming back, it wouldn’t be fair, she has bent over backwards…

  Dennis can’t support us yet, he’s close, but…

  She watched Tim feed and wished she could feel his utter relaxation and contentment. Timothy, I wish you could give me some advice…

  For several days, she put off calling Barbara for Pam Beckert’s phone number. Then, once she had it, she delayed calling Pam for several more days, hoping that the added time would cause her to change her mind or re-evaluate the game plan.

  It didn’t.

  “We’ve got to make a decision one way or another,” huffed Dennis, and, for once, his sentiments paralleled Maggie’s.

  “I just need to know, hon,” said the latest Maggie message on the answering machine.

  Anita called Pam on a Saturday. According to Barbara, she lived in a small apartment building about ten minutes away.

  A thin, uneven voice answered. Anita couldn’t help starting to conduct her evaluation immediately. Pam sounded simple, but articulate. Uncomfortable but mature.

  Pam said that Barbara had already told her to expect the call, so she was familiar with the situation.

  “We’re still weighing our options,” said Anita. “But if you’re available, we’d like to start with some babysitting.”

  “That would be great,” Pam responded, a rise in her voice.

  The first “trial-sit,” as Dennis called it, took place the following Thursday. This was no ordinary babysitting gig. It was contrived to the hilt.

  Anita and Dennis made plans to go into Berkley for dinner and a movie, any movie. Pam was supposed to arrive at six. But Dennis would be “running late,” allowing Anita to observe Pam and Tim’s interactions for an extended period.

  When Pam arrived, she had just completed a full day with the Roeber kids, so she was rumpled, but smiling eagerly. Pam had a mousy, slight build, and her plain face was dominated by her thick glasses, the type of Coke-bottle lenses you didn’t see much anymore as most people turned to contact lenses or laser eye surgery.

  Her clothes were colorless and her hair was flat and straight and indifferently styled. Frumpy was the word that leapt to Anita’s mind.

  Anita was actually encouraged that Pam wasn’t a great young beauty. Part of it may have been selfish—not wanting a prettier woman under her roof—but most of it had to do with securing a nanny with minimal distractions, that is, boyfriends.

  She had heard too many horror stories about babysitters who neglected the child while entertaining long phone conversations—or worse, secret visits—from boyfriends. The last thing Anita wanted was some chick grinding away with a young stud on the sofa while Tim cried with poopy diapers in his crib.

  Pam looked a few years older than Anita and had a maternal aura about her. She was awkward during the initial chit-chat, obviously shy, or “reserved” as Barbara had put it, but sweet. And capable?

  Anita led Pam to the living room to meet Tim. He was on a blanket on the floor, rolling a little bit, grabbing at the scattered circle of toys around him.

  Pam knelt before him and broke out of her shell with a big, genuine smile. As if tapped by a magic wand, Pam became animated and vibrant. She brought her finger forward and Tim grasped it. “Hello, big boy,�
�� she said.

  Anita watched the interaction closely. Tim’s face was uncertain at first, but quickly warmed to Pam’s gentle, soft-spoken greetings.

  Before long, Pam had him giggling.

  Anita felt waves of relief. Tim felt good, so she felt good.

  Tim was trying to sit up, clumsily. “Go ahead, pick him up,” said Anita. Pam looked like she had just won the lottery. “Thank you,” she said. She was careful, and held him correctly, safely, motherly.

  Pam carried Tim as Anita gave her a tour of the house. Anita ran through the list in her head of all the essentials—changing table, diapers and wipes, food, bottles, bouncy seat, phone numbers “just in case.”

  Anita asked Pam to feed Tim in his high chair while she got ready for going out. Anita retreated upstairs, but moved around a lot to catch glimpses and eavesdrop on the interaction.

  Tim was making happy noises.

  Pam appeared to know what she was doing. She was experienced with small children.

  Both of them were happy.

  What great luck, thought Anita. She had anticipated a long and grueling nanny search—she didn’t expect to find a good one so quickly.

  Still, the audition wasn’t over.

  Pam returned for another babysitting turn three days later. This one included a bath. Plus, a brief Timmy tantrum. Pam handled it well. She soothed Tim quickly and distracted away the tears. From everything Anita observed, Pam was very attentive to Tim and intuitive to his needs. She wasn’t just some flake looking for steady cash. She was truly motherly. A pro.

  “I like her, I guess,” said Dennis at dinner during babysitting night number two. They sat in their favorite Chinese restaurant. “I mean, I don’t see anything wrong with her. You’re the better judge of these mommy things.”

  “She knows her stuff,” said Anita. “I know she doesn’t have much of a personality. She’s not full of sparkling conversation—”

  Dennis chuckled in agreement.

  “…but she really likes Tim and I feel I can trust her.”

  To get a more complete picture of Pam, they began filling in the details of her past. Some of it, Pam provided. A lot of it they researched on their own.

  Maggie had been the one to suggest contacting an independent investigative service to run a background check. Anita thought it felt sneaky, but agreed that it was worth doing, if only to secure peace of mind. Since they weren’t going through a nanny agency, they had to do their own screening.

  For two hundred dollars, a company called “I Spy” conducted an extensive search to dig up dirt on Pam. They checked the records of counties where she had lived to see if there was any criminal history—any felonies or misdemeanors. They ran a civil records search for lawsuits, verified her education, looked at her driver’s record, and ran a credit report to find any defaulted loans or car repossessions. Nothing showed up that would indicate irresponsibility or dishonesty. In fact, the search turned up so little, it was as if she didn’t even exist. She was barely a blip.

  While the investigation service did their work, Anita checked the references. She and Dennis had dinner with the Roebers, who did nothing but speak about Pam in glowing terms. It was obvious they were both rooting for Anita and Dennis to hire her. Anita speculated that part of their motivation was guilt from letting her go. Barbara said that when Pam was told her services would no longer be needed, she took the news very hard. “She acted like somebody died,” said Barbara.

  Anita also called Pam’s prior employers, the Savios, a couple Barbara knew from church.

  Susan Savio was equally complimentary. She worked part-time for the city, and all her kids were now in school. Susan said she was especially impressed by the extra work Pam did around the house. “She did everything but vacuum the front yard,” she told Anita. “The kids just loved her, she never grew impatient with them, even when they were brats. You know, I actually felt bad for her. I got the feeling she’s always wanted kids of her own.”

  Anita also checked some of the other references. She tracked down other babysitting clients in the neighborhood. She also spoke with former employers, including a small company where Pam worked as a receptionist and a bank were where she once held a clerical job.

  In those cases, where kids weren’t involved, Pam was barely a memory. “Quiet…shy…hard worker” were some of the descriptions. “She kept to herself.”

  Throughout all of the research and investigating, Anita did not encounter any red flags. Nothing that would indicate a lack of maturity or responsibility.

  The decision was becoming clearer and clearer.

  Finally, Dennis and Anita invited Pam over for dinner. But it was really a job interview. A chance to evaluate her directly. Anita was mostly interested in what Dennis would have to say afterward, since she was already pretty certain of her decision.

  Pam sat across from them. Anita served pasta and salad. Tim played in the bassinet, occasionally tossing out a toy for attention.

  Pam did not look comfortable. She was restless. She kept looking in Tim’s direction. She definitely preferred his company. And tonight, he even appeared to recognize her when he smiled at her. Pam had kissed him on the cheek.

  How can I not hire her? Anita wondered.

  The interrogation was as unintimidating as possible. Anita had a list of questions in her head, some of which she had found in a “nanny handbook” from the library. Dennis gently drilled her with hypothetical situations focused on discipline and emergencies. They were both impressed that Pam was CPR and First Aid certified.

  Anita asked about her educational background and Pam candidly discussed several short-lived attempts to get a teaching degree at a community college. The interruptions were financially driven.

  Pam had no real hobbies or special interests, and that disappointed Anita. At least make something up, she thought. Say you like basket weaving or bowling or belong to the Barry Manilow fan club.

  The only serious flaw Anita could identify was Pam’s lack of ambition to do anything other than sit with someone else’s children and care for someone else’s home. Maybe I’m being a snob, Anita thought. Who says she has to hold lofty ambitions if this is all that makes her happy?

  After the job-related questions were exhausted, Anita turned the conversation to more innocuous things like Pam’s family background and growing up. But the topic didn’t seem to relax Pam any further.

  She said her parents lived in Florida and she visited every Christmas. But she didn’t appear particularly close to them. Pam’s brother Roy, a truck driver, lived in the area, but she didn’t have much to say about him either.

  Anita couldn’t resist asking about a boyfriend. It caused Pam to blush deep red, and Anita immediately regretted it. “Nobody right now,” she said. Anita wondered if there had been anybody ever. She started to feel pity then, and quickly changed the subject to the job. Pam seemed agreeable to the proposed salary terms, hours, and vacation time. She was happy to help out with housekeeping duties.

  At the end of the meal, Anita invited Pam to go visit with Tim, and a look of total relief washed over her face, as if she had been sprung free from the slammer. As Anita and Dennis cleared the dishes, Dennis wordlessly pointed to the crumpled wad on Pam’s chair—during dinner she had quietly shredded the napkin in her lap.

  As Pam played with Tim in the living room, Anita and Dennis quietly conferred under the steady splash of the kitchen sink.

  “She’s so introverted,” said Dennis.

  “It’s not us. I don’t think she’s comfortable around adults in general,” replied Anita.

  “That’s probably why she can’t work in the adult world,” mused Dennis.

  “I know, she’s nervous,” said Anita. “I think she’s very conscientious. I think she’s good for Tim. What do you think?”

  “I trust your judgment,” said Dennis.

  “No really, what do you think?”

  “I think she’s fine.”

  “Then we’re…d
ecided?” said Anita, suddenly feeling frightened. “Should we…?”

  Anita thought back to her mother’s advice during a phone call the day before. “Trust your gut instinct,” said her mother.

  Anita’s gut instinct said Pam’s the one.

  She took a deep breath. “Well, then…let’s tell her.”

  They joined Pam and Tim in the living room. Pam was holding Tim close to her chest.

  “We’d like to make you an offer,” said Anita.

  Pam broke out in a wide smile. “Oh, wonderful. Thank you.” Her grip on Tim tightened.

  They discussed the terms of the agreement. The first two months would be a probationary period to allow everybody an “out” if the match was not a good one. Anita handed over a work agreement contract for Pam to take home and review. The template had come from a website run by a parenting magazine. It detailed the job conditions, work hours, amount per week, and so on. They also talked about the handling of taxes and health benefits. And then there were the logistics of securing a baby car seat for the backseat of Pam’s Toyota, giving her house keys, and meeting the neighbors.

  Throughout it all, Pam was full of smiles, lighter, as if a great weight had been lifted off her small shoulders. Her joy was unmistakable. She really wanted this, Anita recognized, and good feelings pumped through her veins. She really loves Tim. This is going to work out just great.

  When Pam left later that evening, Tim even looked sad.

  V

  Anita felt lost somewhere in the zone between the very late and very early hours. It was still dark, probably 3:00 a.m., possibly later. She could see police cars, marked and unmarked, crowding the street and driveway. There were officers talking to one another in pockets on the lawn.

  She also noticed a woman in a long coat with a pad and pen, wandering, trying to engage in conversation with investigators. Anita felt her chest tighten, her breathing hurt. A reporter.