by P.D. Workman
CHAPTER 7
ABE STOPPED THE CAR in front of the school, where the signs clearly said he was not supposed to stop to load or unload children. He scanned the crowds for Meggie and Crispin. Horns honked behind him as irate parents found themselves blocked by someone who refused to obey the rules. Abe took his foot off the brake and slowly rolled forward, looking for his daughter’s pink jacket and curly, golden-red locks. Why did so many kids have to go to this school? And why did they all have to be picked up? Didn’t anyone walk home anymore?
Abe spotted Meggie’s coat and curls, and hit the brakes. He reached across to throw open the back door, and yelled at her.
“Hurry up, jump in! We have to go!”
The girl stopped, startled, and then climbed into the seat.
“Buckle up, sweetie,” Abe told her, and started to roll again. “Let me know if you see Crispin.”
No Crispin in sight. Abe went around the block - really, around the neighborhood, since you couldn’t actually circle the school, but had to weave your way through the adjoining streets to get back to where you started. He did another slow roll past the schoolyard. Still no Crispin. Abe muttered under his breath, irritated.
“Why couldn’t your brother be on time?” he demanded. “I bet he's playing with his friends or something. You don’t think that he forgot and went home, do you?”
There was no reply. Abe glanced back. The little girl’s head was tipped forward, asleep, her hood practically covering her face.
“Looks like you had a busy day,” he said quietly. Abe circled back through the neighborhood a third time. Now there were two police cars in the not-a-loading-zone in front of the school, with their lights flashing. “Maybe somebody else can’t find their kid,” he joked.
Abe saw Crispin standing, looking around, and pulled the car over to pick the boy up.
“About time,” he complained as Crispin climbed in. "What took you so long?”
“I was helping Mrs. Wilson to clean up,” Crispin explained.
“Didn’t you remember you have swimming this afternoon? I’ve been waiting for twenty minutes.”
“Sorry. I didn’t think it was that late.”
They started for the pool. Abe's thoughts were far away when Crispin poked him in the shoulder, making him jump.
“Sheesh! What’d you do that for, Crispin? You just about gave me a heart attack! I could have swerved into traffic or something.”
“Umm… Dad…” Crispin’s voice quavered.
Abe looked over his shoulder at the boy at his worried face.
“I’m sorry, Cris. I didn’t mean to snap.”
“Dad,” he repeated.
“What is it?”
“Ummm, Dad, this isn’t Meggie.”
Abe hit the brake, causing a chorus of honks behind him.
“What? What’d’you mean it-”
Looking back at them, Abe saw Crispin pull back the capacious hood, and realized that, in fact, it was not Meggie. His heart pounded and his stomach tied in knots.
“What the-? How did-? Oh, no…”
He felt nauseated.
“We have to go back to the school,” Crispin told him. "Meggie must still be there, and she’ll be wondering what happened to you. And whoever this is…”
“There were already police cars at the school,” Abe said, panicking. "They must have been told that some stranger picked her up. Oh, man…”
“We have to go back to the school,” Crispin insisted again, his voice rising.
“I know, I know! You think I don’t know that? I’m just… you don’t have any idea what kind of trouble I’m going to be in when I get there!”
“Why? You just made a mistake.”
“Yeah, a mistake,” Abe muttered.
They drove back to the school again in silence. Abe pulled in behind the police cars, trying to swallow his fear. He parked and got out of the car to go talk to one of the cops.
“You can’t park there,” one of them said. "This is a no parking area, and we’re trying to conduct an investigation.”
“I understand, officer. But... you see, I-”
One of the other cops, quicker on the draw, had recognized the description of the suspect and his vehicle, and made a beeline directly for it.
“He’s the perp, Banks! Little girl is in the back!”
Banks grabbed Abe by the arm and threw him into the side of the police car.
“Lean over, put your hands on the car,” he shouted, and for the second time in his life, Abe was frisked for weapons and handcuffed.
“It was just a misunderstanding,” he protested. “I picked up the wrong child. I - I don’t know how it happened, but once I realized I had the wrong kid, I came straight back-”
“What kind of sicko are you?” Banks demanded. He opened the back door to the police car and pushed Abe towards it. “Watch your head,” he snarled, but it sounded more like he wanted Abe to hit his head than avoid it. Abe clumsily folded himself, hands cuffed behind him, into the back seat.
“My son is in the car,” he said. "He’ll explain to you. It was just a mistake.”
Abe sat miserably watching the drama unfold out his window, as the little girl was removed from the car, crying, and handed over to her frantic mother. As Crispin was taken into the school out of sight. As Ursula eventually arrived and went in, coming out with both Crispin and Meggie. Up until that point, Abe had wondered what had happened to Meggie. He didn't know if someone else had picked her up, or if she had walked home, or if she was still wandering around looking for her errant father.
Ursula approached one of the officers who was outside, and talked to him for a few moments. The officer brought her over to the car, and opened the door so that Abe and Ursula could talk to each other.
“What were you thinking?” Ursula demanded. "How could you accidentally pick up someone else’s kid?”
“Ask Crispin,” Abe protested. "She was wearing a pink jacket identical to Meggie’s, and she had the same hair. And she fell asleep when she got into the car, so I didn’t have a chance to figure out that it wasn’t her…”
“Well everyone is having kittens over the whole thing. You’d think that you had robbed a-” Ursula hesitated, not wanting to finish the sentence, but deciding it would be more awkward not to finish it, "a - a bank or something. They’re sure that you had nefarious purpose in mind.”
“Why would I come back here and give her back? Don’t people have any sense?”
“Don’t you?” Ursula demanded scathingly. She shook her head. “I don’t know when they’re going to let you go. Obviously it’s too late to get to swimming lessons now, so I’m going to take these two home. I’ll see you when you get there.”
Abe nodded, his eyes brimming with tears. He managed to hold them back until the door was shut and Ursula was out of sight. Then they brimmed over and tracked down his cheeks. What kind of a father was he, that he couldn’t even pick up his own kids after school? What kind of a crazy loon can’t even figure out what kids were his?
Abe shuffled through the papers at an unoccupied desk before moving on to Dennis’ office. Dennis was still out at lunch, so Abe settled down to wait for him. He glanced through the papers in Dennis’ in box and the interoffice mail basket before sitting down at the computer. If he could just figure out who the real inside man at the airport was, he could prove to Lovett that it wasn’t him. Clear his name, so that they would leave him alone and things could go back to normal. Abe quickly ran a couple of documents through the multifunction printer and folded the copies into his pocket.
He typed Dennis’ password into the screen lock dialog and pressed enter. He could just check a couple of things before Dennis got back. Check out a few possibilities. His fingers flew over the keys and he was lost in his investigations. He moved from one screen to another, trying to keep up with his brain jumping ahead three steps at a time.
“What’cha up to?”
Abe jumped and he looked up at Dennis, leaning i
n the doorway of the cubicle watching him curiously. Abe quickly exited out of the windows that he was in.
“Just surfing the net while I was waiting,” he lied. “Checking e-mail to see if we’ve heard anything back from the board yet.”
Dennis nodded. He came into the cubicle and Abe gave up his seat. Dennis sat down, glancing at the screen.
“Haven’t heard anything yet?” he questioned.
“No.”
“I hear through the grapevine,” Dennis said, "that they’re stalling for time. There are… some concerns… about whether you’re up to it.”
Abe frowned.
“Of course I’m up to it.”
“Sure. But people are a little concerned about your behavior… the trouble with the police… you’re kind of obsessed about the jewel heist… letting it distract you…”
“I’m just… watching for any clues…” Abe fumbled. “Just keeping my eyes open. They said we should keep our eyes open, report anything suspicious.”
Dennis glanced again at his computer screen.
“You should stay off my system,” he commented. “You’re not supposed to have access. I could get in trouble.”
Abe looked at the doorway to the cubicle.
“I was just checking my e-mail. It was airport business.”
Dennis shook his head.
“Just use your phone.” He shrugged and went on to other things. “So, should we go over the stats?”
Abe tried to tune out the distractions and focus on Dennis and the project.
Ursula reached over to silence the alarm and stretched sleepily. She sat on the edge of the bed and performed a couple of twists to limber up and wake up her creaky joints. She turned and looked behind her, taking a second look. Abe was stretched out in bed, fast asleep. Ursula sighed, relieved. It was the first night in the past few weeks that Abe had been asleep when she had woken up. She knew he wasn’t getting enough sleep, and it was a relief to see him sleeping for once. Ursula touched a tendril of Abe’s hair, twirling it around her finger. Abe didn’t stir.
“Get a good rest, sweetie,” Ursula whispered. She kissed him very lightly on the forehead, and got up to get ready for her day.
“Dad! Dad, it’s time to wake up!”
Abe awoke groggily to the repeated refrain and violent shaking of his arm.
“Uggh. What is it?” he growled, covering up his face.
“Dad, it’s time to get up. It’s late,” Juneau’s insistent voice penetrated his consciousness.
“Have some cereal,” Abe suggested hoarsely. "I’m not making breakfast today.”
“We got our own breakfast. But you have to get up. We’ve got school and you’ve got work.”
“What time is it?”
“Time to go!” Juneau gave his arm another vigorous shake. “Get up!”
Abe tried to wriggle from her grip, and she persisted. Finally Abe levered himself to a sitting position, rubbing his eyes drowsily.
“Okay, I’m up.”
She pushed a hot cup of coffee into his hands.
“Drink,” she ordered.
Abe smiled at Juneau crookedly.
“Who put you in charge?” he questioned.
“Just do it.”
He took a couple of sips of the hot, bitter liquid.
“Anybody ever tell you that you inherited your mother’s bossiness?”
Juneau stood there with her hands on her hips, scowling. She looked at her watch again.
“We have to get going. It will take you fifteen minutes to wash up and get dressed. We don’t have that much time.”
“Okay, okay.”
Abe stood up and tottered toward the bathroom. Juneau waited until she heard the water running, and then went back downstairs to make sure that the younger children were ready.
Mrs. Johnston raised her head from the forms and paperwork, her brows drawing down.
“I think they paged you,” she told Abe.
Abe frowned, looking around.
“Why would anyone page me?” he questioned.
“I don’t know. But I’m pretty sure I heard your name on the PA.”
Abe went to the intercom at the front of the classroom and pushed the call button.
“It’s Abe,” he said. "Did someone page me?”
“Mr. VanRam. Your son Crispin is in room thirty. He’s having a seizure…”
“I’ll be right there,” Abe said, his heart starting to pound harder. He looked back at Mrs. Johnson, but she had overheard him, and nodded for him to go. Abe hurried down the hall to Crispin’s classroom.
When he walked into the room, everyone’s bodies were turned toward Crispin, on the floor lying still. All of the students were in their desks, at the edges of their seats as they tried to see what was happening. The teacher - Mrs. Wilson - and an aide leaned over Crispin. Abe swallowed hard. It always scared him to death to see Crispin like that, during or after a seizure. He hurried over to his son. The two teachers moved aside.
“He just stopped seizing,” Mrs. Wilson said, “but he hasn’t woken up yet.”
“How long was the seizure?”
“Not long, maybe two minutes.”
“Okay. He should be just fine.”
“Do you want us to get an ambulance?” the aide questioned worriedly.
“No, there’s no point in going to the hospital. He’ll be fine.”
Everyone waited anxiously. Abe wrapped a lock of Crispin’s dark blond hair around a couple of fingers.
“Crispin…” he called gently. "Crispin, time to wake up now.”
Crispin stirred restlessly. Abe brushed his cheek.
“Crispy,” he repeated. "It’s time to wake back up. Come on. Come back to me.”
Crispin moved his head back and forth, and then his eyes opened.
“Dad?” He looked around and realized that he was on the floor. “What? Did I have a seizure?”
“Yeah, you did. How do you feel?”
“Okay. I guess,” Crispin said, pushing himself up.
There were whispers and murmured discussions through the class as they expressed their relief that he was okay. Mrs. Wilson didn’t stop them from talking.
“Do you want to get changed, Crispin?” Abe said quietly.
Crispin looked at his wet pants.
“Yeah,” he agreed.
As he got up, there were some giggles over his wet pants. But many of these kids had been with Crispin since kindergarten, and they knew that you couldn’t help it if you wet your pants during a seizure. They glared at the gigglers or punched them in the arm to shut them up. Crispin had a change of clothes in the cloakroom, so Abe grabbed them and took Crispin to the restroom to get changed. Crispin came back out and handed his wet clothes to Abe, who had a plastic bag at the ready.
“All right,” Abe said. "You okay? Ready to go back to class?”
“Can I stay with you?” Crispin requested.
Abe hesitated.
“I’m having a meeting with Mrs. Johnson and going over cafeteria recipes and meal plans. You’ll have more fun in your class.”
“I’m tired. I don’t want to go back.”
“Well… I guess you can stay with me, and after the class I’ll take you home. How’s that sound, bud?”
Crispin nodded.
“Yeah,” he agreed. "I want to stay with you. And go home.”
“Okay. Let’s go tell Mrs. Wilson.”
Abe and Ursula were talking in the kitchen, and Crispin stopped when he heard his name. He hovered near the door, listening to the conversation.
“You know that his seizures can be triggered by stress,” Ursula said, wiping the counters.
“I know. But I don’t think it was my fault. He was just in class at school. Nothing was going on.”
“It’s not just what was happening in the school room,” Ursula said. "It's what’s been going on at home, too. With you. All of the stress that the family has been going through.”
“I can’t h
elp that,” Abe growled. “I’m not trying to make Crispin stressed.”
“Of course not,” Ursula agreed. “But we have to try. Try to keep things calm, and help him to talk about his feelings, and if you could-”
Abe shut a cupboard door loudly and walked out of the room. He didn’t even see Crispin as he stalked past.
Crispin had been drowsy most of the day, and Meggie had climbed in beside him to keep him company while Abe told them a story. Abe was restless and distracted. He looked through the library book basket and despite the children’s pleas, didn’t see anything that he wanted to read. He searched their bookshelf but was equally disappointed.
“Why don’t I tell you a story,” he suggested.
“You’re supposed to read one from the basket,” Meggie pointed out.
“Dad, we want a good bedtime story,” Crispin said drowsily.
Abe shook his head.
“Well, you may not think that I can, but I’m going to tell you one anyway,” he announced.
Sitting down on the edge of the bed, Abe closed his eyes and concentrated. There was so much whirling around in his head right now. He wished that it would all just quiet down, so that he could think one thing at a time, like a normal person. It was incredibly difficult contending with the simultaneous trains of thought and intrusive voices all at once.
“Okay,” he started. "Once upon a time…”
Meggie was still awake when Abe finished the story. Crispin was drifting off. Abe carried Meggie to her room and laid her on the bed.
“Now you go to sleep, princess, alright?”
Meggie frowned.
“Sweet dreams,” Abe said. “Close your eyes and imagine nice things.”
Meggie stared up at him in silence with disconcertingly big eyes.
“What do you want, then?” Abe questioned.
“I want Mommy.”
“Mommy’s out right now. She won’t be back until after you should be asleep. She’ll see you in the morning.”
“I want Juneau.”
“Okay, I’ll get her, but you stay in bed, okay?”
Meggie nodded. She folded her arms to wait for Juneau. Abe told Juneau to go check on her, and went to the kitchen, where he started to cook. He pulled a couple of bottles out of the side cupboard, and drank as he cooked. He was oblivious to all else that was going on inside the house, until Juneau came up behind him.
“What exactly was that all about?” Juneau demanded.
Abe was drinking from one of the bottles, and her query startled him so much that he sprayed half a mouthful over the counter and sink. Abe clumsily wiped his face with the back of his hand, and held the bottle below counter level where she wouldn’t see it, even though she surely already had.
“What was what?” he questioned weakly.
“That bedtime story.”
“Yeah… what about it?”
“What exactly did you tell them?”
Abe shrugged. “Just a story I made up on the fly,” he said. “Why?”
“You scared Meggie. She’s terrified to go to sleep. Something about how the bad men in black cars are coming to get her.”
“Oh,” Abe frowned. He couldn’t remember any details of the story that he had just told them. But it was good, wasn’t it, if she had her eyes open, and they couldn’t follow her without her noticing? “I don’t think I said anything that would upset her.”
“Well, I think you did, actually. Why did you do that?”
“I… I don’t know.”
“And something about a cute little chicken getting made into green chicken curry?”
“Did I? I guess… I was thinking about work.”
“Well, don’t mix work with bedtime stories. You freaked her out!”
“I’m sorry,” Abe apologized, rubbing his forehead. “Did you get her to sleep?”
“For now, but I’m not sure if she’ll stay down. She’ll probably wake up with nightmares about being chased by headless curry chickens and men in black cars.”
Abe shifted uncomfortably.
“I’ll take care of her if she wakes up,” he said. "I’m sorry.”
“If you can’t read her a book, then get me. Don’t tell her crazy stuff.”
Abe nodded.
“I’m sorry, Juneau.”
“Okay.”
Juneau stood there looking at him for a moment, and then turned and walked away.