WISHBONE II: ...Some Wishes Should Never Be Made

by Brooklyn Hudson

She cannot have anything to do with whatever this is.

  He exhaled, long and slow.

  The secretaries, each occupied with ringing telephones and intense conversation, ignore him. Julien attempted to get the attention of the closest one by drumming the wood counter separating him from her desk.

  They all knew him well, but none looked his way. Frustrated, he slammed his hand down against the counter, the crack of his palm meeting the shellacked wood snapped all heads in his direction, including the police. One woman managed to keep her reassuring phone voice, while narrowing her eyes in his direction. She pointed with a snap of her straightened arm and a silent stomp of her beige, sensible shoe, to the office of Beverly Springer, the school’s assistant principal. As if on cue, Beverly appeared in her doorway.

  “Come in, Mr. Grenier.” She stepped backward against the door folding her arms and making room for him to pass by. “Please have a seat.” She walked around him to her desk.

  Julien scanned the windowless office. There was no sign of Jessica.

  He remained standing, “My daughter, where is she?”

  Beverly was tired and hardly in the mood. No longer concerned with Julien’s comfort, she took a seat.

  “Mr. Grenier, your daughter is fine. She’s in the teachers’ courtyard with Ms. Fields. I believe we were expecting you hours ago.”

  “I work. I have a job to do. So do you…and that is to care for my daughter from 7:30 a.m. to 6:30 p.m., Monday through Friday. Yet, I am called here regularly, to do that job for you, and at the expense of my employment.”

  With only a halfhearted effort, Beverly countered, “We do our job and we work very hard to provide your daughter with a proper education and after school care, but we won’t do that at the expense of the other children. You are her parent…”

  He cut her short, “Yes, I am, and part of parenting is to provide for your children and I can’t do that unless I am allowed to work,” his voice took on a mocking, sarcastic tone, “You send her home for every little things…”

  It was Beverly’s turn to interrupt, “We realize that…and Mrs. Grenier…? Is she still collecting art in Europe, or is it a visit with her mother this time?” she paused, knowing her tone was inappropriate, and quickly collected herself.

  She held her hands up to call a truce then sat forward, leaning against her desk with crossed arms holding up her spent body, “I apologize, but we’ve had an incident here today. A child has gone missing. A child from Jessica’s classroom. Owen Albright.”

  Julien shook his head, confused, yet relieved that his daughter was not at the center of the school’s alarm.

  “And how does a child go missing from a locked school?” he paused then returned to the subject which most concerned him, “…and what does this have to do with Jessica? You cannot keep calling me to leave work and come pick her up early.”

  Beverly leaned back in her high-back chair, “Do you have a pet bird at home?”

  Julien laughed, “Do we have a bird?” He had forgotten about the bird accusation and didn’t want to rehash the conversation again. “No, we have no birds. I have been through this with the principal earlier today. She ask me this already and I have made it clear…we have no bird.”

  “So there is no possibility that Jessica would have brought a bird…a blue jay…to school with her? You dropped her off this morning yourself, right? You haven’t rescued any bird or…”

  Julien gave in and finally took a seat, “There is no bird. She could not have bring this bird to school,” he waited for her reply, but they only stared at each other in silence.

  Beverly watched him closely. She searched for something in his eyes, anything that might explain the bird and make this problem his problem, and not theirs. All at once, something came over her and she felt embarrassed. She certainly believed him and she didn’t want to upset him further.

  For some time now, everyone working at the school had begun to suspect that Julien was raising his special needs child on his own and, being a single parent herself, she understood the difficulties. While there had to be an explanation for the bird, it suddenly seemed absurd that her superiors were forcing her to pay this matter any further attention in lieu of a missing child.

  She reluctantly continued, “Ms. Fields is sure the windows to her classroom were closed, yet somehow, there is a bird, and that bird refuses to leave your daughter’s shoulder and created utter chaos in class today.”

  “Did they have lunch outside? Could she have found the bird then?”

  “No, they’re repaving the play yard. Both lunch and playtime were inside today. This bird appeared out of nowhere. If you insist that she could not have brought the bird to school in her backpack then my only explanation would be that the bird was quietly hiding up there in the lights and decided to take a liking to your daughter. It might have been up there for days. Who knows? Unfortunately, the more serious issue here is that, in all the commotion, attempting to catch and remove the bird, a classmate of Jessica’s went missing.”

  “I hardly believe Jessica’s goal was to endanger a student, or that she had a goal with this bird, at all. She is just not capable…”

  “Of course not,” Beverly agreed. She was beginning to question her own goal in continuing this conversation—he clearly knows nothing about this bird, she thought.

  She wondered if she was really following the orders of her superiors, or if this was actually her subconscious way of stalling from yet another phone conversation with an angry parent, concerned for the well-being of their own child and accusing the school of negligence; or perhaps, to stall from seeing the face of Owen Albright’s mother, desperately trying to understand how her son is not where he is was supposed to be.

  Beverly rolled her chair back from the desk, “Let’s go get Jessica,” she suggested.

  Owen’s mother was no longer in the main office, nor was the gaggle of police officers and secretaries. The hallway was quiet now, except for the echoing taps of the assistant principal’s heels.

  Physically, it was a good day for Julien, who was not relying on his cane as much as he sometimes needed to. On days like today, he wondered if it wasn’t all psychosomatic, while on bad days, he was sure it was not. Still haunted by the events of Kings Hollow, he slowly put the pieces together from his dreams. He longed to ask Rachael how she had worded her final wish. How so much had been left behind and erased, while other emotional and physical scars, came back with them, permanently impacting their day-to-day lives.

  First, there had been confusion, and then there were dreams. Dreams became nightmares, and then adamant denial. His denial spurred arguments between them, and finally memories, but any mention, any discussion, would only fuel Rachael’s obsession, so he opted to live as their lies dictated. However they chose to explain away the unexplainable to others, became his truths, believing his own necessary lies, wholeheartedly, and it was better that way. Even if Rachael hadn’t understood that.

  The assistant principal approached the teachers’ lounge with Julien in tow.

  “The courtyard is right this way,” Beverly waved a directional gesture for Julien to follow.

  The next door took them outdoors to a small manicured patio.

  Jessica immediately ran to Julien. The bird lost its footing on her shoulder and hovered in midair. Jessica threw her arms around her father’s hips. He bent down to hug her, all the while keeping an eye on the bird, now fluttering a few feet behind his child’s back. It flapped close to Julien’s face and he stood up. One hand still bracing his daughter protectively against him, he turned to Beverly as the bird made several attempts to perch on Jessica’s shoulder.

  “It is still here?” Somehow, he had missed that fact, though he could not recall having been told the contrary.

  Beverly nodded.

  Ms. Fields stepped up beside her, arms folded, clearly displeased with the hours she sat waiting for Julien.

  “I’ve tried everything, Mr. Grenier. That bird refuses t
o leave your daughter. Put the thing out the building three times, yet it finds a way back in and right to Jessica every time.”

  “You didn’t tell me the bird was still here,” Julien mumbled, refusing to take his eyes off the jay, who still struggled to remain in flight behind his daughter.

  Jessica, remained tight to her father’s hip, but reached out a hand, allowing the bird to nestle down on her tiny fingers.

  Tracee Fields turned to Beverly, “I really have to go. The detective asked me to come to the station. I gave them all of the information I have… I don’t know what more I can tell them.”

  Tracee appeared on the verge of tears, clearly consumed by guilt.

  Beverly placed a comforting hand on Tracee’s back. “No one is blaming you. Just do what they ask and we’ll all pray that Owen is found before dark.”

  Tracee nodded, excused herself, and left the patio.

  Julien sat down on a brick planter beneath a small tree. He watched his daughter watching him. The bird screeched, now resting on her petite shoulder. Its bright blue feathers framed by her dark brown hair. Jessica grinned, she stood twisting her palms against each other in opposite half circles, as if to grind an invisible something between them. She rocked from one leg to the next, back and forth, in a rhythmic dance of contentment. She showed no fear of the bird.

  Julien crooked his finger, beckoning her close to him. Jessica shuffled over to stand between his legs. Julien reached out immediately grabbing hold of the bird. Its squawk was deafening. For a moment, it appeared Jessica would jump up and attempt to snatch the bird back, but she only furrowed her brow and rocked more vigorously. Julien got up and rushed for the door. With his free hand, he held it open.

  “Inside, hurry up.” He stood holding the door as Jessica scurried in, followed by Beverly, ducking beneath his arm to squeeze by.

  Julien stepped inside closing the door against his arm, leaving only a few inches of space. He held the bird out into the patio area then tossed it into the air. A whirl of tumbling blue quickly righted itself in mid-flight. Beyond the glass door, it hovered again, staring at Julien, who turned his back on it.

  “There, not very difficult,” Julien winked.

  The assistant principal smiled a doubtful grin. Since their acceptance of Jessica into the special education program, the school had their share of battles with Julien Grenier, but Beverly had always found him charming. For all of his stubbornness and an occasional sharp tongue, he was a devoted parent to an extremely difficult child, and she had great respect for that.

  “Well, that was easy, huh?” Beverly tried not to sound overtly sarcastic. “Okay, I’ll walk you two out,” she said, knowing what would greet them by the time they reached the other side of the building.

  They took their time gathering Jessica’s things from her classroom. Beverly hoped she would be wrong and that, if they stalled for time, the bird would grow bored and maybe fly away.

  Julien helped Jessica to pull on her jacket and backpack.

  “So, the boy…? What are they thinking?” he asked.

  Beverly shook her head, “Possibly the father. We just can’t explain how he could have known there would be such a distraction today, or when he could have made a plan with Owen.”

  “Owen? He is severe, no? The father has no visitation?”

  “Down syndrome. Fairly severe, yes. I’m told the father hasn’t seen the boy in three years. His own choice…just stopped coming around. Sadly, he has shown no interest in his son, making this even more of a shock. If he did, in fact, have something to do with Owen’s disappearance, that is.”

  “I know this boy. I remember him. Jessica is very fond of him.”

  She knew what his next question would be and quickly added, “The school is very secure. I won’t deny our responsibility in what happened here today, but I assure you, we will take every precaution to ensure nothing like this can ever happen again.”

  Julien nodded and took Jessica’s hand.

  Beverly led them back down the hallway, all three walking in silence past the now dark office.

  Julien opened the door to the street and turned back to thank the assistant principal. He felt a fast gust of wind tussle his hair and something brush close to his cheek.

  The jay dove past him, directly for Jessica’s shoulder.

  Jessica squealed, enthralled by the return of her tenacious pet.

  Julien, expressionless, watched as the bird poked its face through her thick veil of hair then chirp a soft squawk of contentment.

  Beverly looked away with a tight-lipped smile; she didn’t want to laugh. She took a few steps backward and held her hands up, as if to silently pass the problem over to Julien. She turned on one heel and walked back to her office grinning.

  Julien, now on his own with Jessica and the jay, held the door open wider.

  “Come on, let’s go,” he said then ushered Jessica out onto the sidewalk past the few remaining officers and several news vans.

  He was glad they were all preoccupied; no one took notice of the large blue jay riding on his daughter’s shoulder.

  Leaning over the warm bathwater, coupled with a stressful day, Julien’s eyes began to feel heavy. He soaped a washcloth and lathered his daughter’s neck and back.

  Jessica stared at her shriveled fingers just below the water’s surface. She hummed to herself, lost in thoughts no one would ever be privy to.

  Julien, annoyed by a tapping sound above them, looked up at the shower curtain rod, where the blue jay danced impatiently back and forth. It took a few steps to the left and then the right; over and over, it repeated its nervous dance, methodically tapping and scratching its sharp claws against metal.

  What do I do with you?

  On the way home, they stopped to buy a birdcage, but now, every time he tried to put the bird in it, shrill squawking would commence and he feared the neighbors’ complaints would soon follow. His plan was to cage the bird in the morning, just before leaving for school. He would take Jessica to her classroom then drive to the local animal shelter, where he would turn it in, ridding them of the problem for good. He was sure the bird was either someone’s lost pet, or there was something very wrong with it.

  Julien’s eyes threatened to close again and his every effort became a physical strain. He removed Jessica from the tub and then wrapped a towel around her shivering, wet body. He playfully roughed her up with the towel, her body shimmying from side to side, under his careful control. She giggled uncontrollably and the bird swooped down with its sharp talons, attempting to find its place on her bare skin. Julien swatted at the thing. He didn’t want to hurt it, but shooed it back to its perch. He finished drying and dressing Jessica for bed.

  Cozy, in fresh pajamas, she held her father’s hand as he led her to bed. The bird darted past them, landing on the footboard.

  Julien tucked her in and bent to kiss her forehead. He looked at the bird, perched and preening itself peacefully, and with trepidation, he walked away; leaving the door cracked slightly.

  He made his way to the kitchen where he turned on a small television atop the refrigerator. If he could just stay awake long enough to do the dishes and clean up, he would allow himself an early night.

  The ten o’clock news filled the room with background noise as he squeezed liquid soap onto a sponge above a sink full of soaking dishes. He glanced up and immediately recognized the school on TV.

  A reporter stood before the same flagpole he walked past, twice daily, but by the time he focused on what she was saying, the screen shot flipped to a photo of Owen Albright.

  As the reporter began listing the details of the boy’s disappearance, Julien’s eyes fell on the baseball jersey he wore in the photo.

  The reporter continued, “He was last seen wearing his t-ball uniform, a light blue and white jersey, bearing the number 12 and a Blue Jay logo. Owen might also be…”

  Julien backed away from the television; soapy water drizzled down his arms to the floor as his m
ind whirled. He could no longer focus or follow the news report. The room fell silent, but the thumping of his heartbeat, pounding in his chest, and he felt the room begin to spin.

  Jessica…

  What did you do?

  CHAPTER TWO

  Five months earlier…

  Rachael stood beneath a blanket of navy blue sky, void of stars and high above Manhattan. She was oblivious to the muffled horns and hissing air brakes resonating from buses and cars below. A strong blast of wind fluttered the oversized, white t-shirt, hanging loose over the tops of her thighs, tickling her flesh, as it rippled in the wind. She held her arms up and out at her sides, positioning them slightly back for balance. A streak of bright white cut through the night and her eyes darted upward, just in time to catch a shooting star as it fizzled out.

  Instantly, her thoughts traveled to the first time she witnessed the celestial phenomena. As though it were yesterday, with her mind’s eye, she watched her father glance at his watch. She recognized his look of concern. They had been out on the lake longer than planned and he did not want to upset her mother; his loving, yet over-bearing, wife.

  On land, the sun gradually disappeared behind the Pennsylvania Mountains, framing their summer rental cottage in a soft purple glow, only a few hundred feet behind them. If she shifted her position just a little, a chill ran the length of her spine; the tin rowboat, icy against the back of her gangly legs. Her father, seated at the head of the boat, his back to her, was a modest-sized man, born of immigrant, Russian Jews. He whistled a melodic self-composed tune and occasionally glanced back over his shoulder at her, with a warm, protective smile.

  Rachael cherished those summer days, out on the little tin boat with her father, and she remembered the moment when he let one hand go from the fishing rod, pointing quickly upward and directing her to the streak of white light dashing across a dusky sky.