“Adam, please talk to us,” Brenda pleaded. “We want to help you, but we want to know how. We can’t help you if you don’t tell us what’s going on.”
Adam slowly turned his head and looked at his mother. It was more that his head had turned and his eyes just happened to be looking at her. She just happened to be in the line of fire. It didn’t seem to have anything to do with intent on the side of Adam. His eyes were dead and emotionless. His eyes were also unmotivated to seek the whereabouts of his mother. When his head stopped and his dead eyes faced his mother’s face, Adam said something in a way that was more otherworldly than demonic.
“I’ll tell you this much. They were hardly your real parents.” Adam said this in the most monotone way as if the words were not his own. It was like he was being controlled by a puppeteer. He spoke free of emotion as the words just breezed out of his now pasty-white face.
Brenda pushed herself back in her chair. Her eyes were crystal boulders and they did not return to normal size. “Imposters,” she whispered.
Carter’s reaction was much the same. What a thing to say, he thought. Where did that come from? He doesn’t even have enough information to make such a statement. He continued to look at his son, awaiting additional comments and looking for anything like a facial twitch or contortion. Maybe he would again be looking at someone behind him. Maybe he would be talking to someone behind him. He didn’t have to wait long.
He saw Adam looking over his shoulder and his gaze was locked in tight. His pupils were darting from side to side and it appeared that he was trying to listen to whomever it was he was seeing behind his father. Carter dropped to his knees and grabbed his son by the arms and shook him a couple times in frustration. He felt so out of control with his own son…the child he was supposed to protect. The agony he was experiencing continued to reach new levels.
“Adam,” said Carter. “What’s up? What are you looking at? Can you tell me what you see?”
Adam began to tremble as he clutched onto his mother and hugged her tight.
“It’s okay, honey. Mommy and daddy are here and we won’t let anybody hurt you.”
“Adam,” said Carter, “if there’s something or somebody bothering you, then please let us know. We can help. That’s what parents do.” He then grabbed Adam from Brenda, but he was holding on tight, so Carter needed to give it a little bit of a tug and a few more convincing words. “Adam, come to daddy.” Carter then crouched down so that he was looking Adam straight into his eyes, holding both his arms. “Adam, you have to trust us. You have to tell us what’s bothering you…what’s going on with you. We need you to talk about the night you went missing.”
Brenda spoke up. “Carter, not now.”
“Then when?” He looked over at Brenda with annoyance. “I’m sorry, but I’m not gonna dance around this anymore. That’s what everybody seems to do these days. They just dance. I’m not gonna dance. Now damn it, Brenda…we’re in the moment now and we’re gonna tackle it head on. It seems to be fresh on his mind now!”
Carter returned his attention to his son. “Adam, listen to me. You have to talk to us. You have to tell us the truth.” He paused for Adam to speak, but nothing came out. He began to get fired up and his patience was wearing thin. “Adam, tell us what happened the other night. Tell you what…if you just tell us about the other night, we’ll leave you alone so you can go to sleep, but you gotta give us something. Is there something that you can tell us about that night?”
Adam looked frightened, but he appeared to be on the verge of breaking his seal. The ceiling fan above them whirred at breakneck speed and battled it out with the crickets outside as if they were trying to battle for territory. Then this came out: “I went to see my grandparents.”
“You never knew your grandparents because they died before you were born!” said Carter. “How does this even happen to you? How do you know anything about your grandparents or where they were laid to rest?” Carter was fully aware that this was not the conversation a father should be having with his six-year-old son, but Adam was not your typical six-year-old son. Maybe he hadn’t given the professionals a fair go at it to try to get answers, and he told the cops that he was committed to changing that aspect of his approach, but he wanted to see what he could do himself. He wanted to know who was really behind these statements.
“I just have a feeling,” said Adam. “I don’t know how to ‘splain it. I can’t help it.” Adam then began to cry as if he had gotten something off his chest, like a secret that was emotionally draining. He also cried from the possession he was feeling at the same time, but Carter did not want to lose control of the progress he was making.
“Tell me this, Adam. How did you get out of the house?”
Adam twisted and he turned. There was nowhere for him to go except to the confession booth, but Carter knew he had a challenge on his hands due to his age.
“I walked out,” said Adam.
“You walked out?” Carter asked. “You got up out of the bed and walked out of the house in the middle of the night without telling us? Why on earth would you do that?”
“I wanted to visit them.”
“Visit who?”
“The pausters…your parents.”
“The place where you were…they were my parents!” Carter was trying to suppress his anger, not so much at his son than at whoever was filling his head with such garbage. Who would do such a thing, and why? And when? Adam was always with them…with the exception of that night. But there were so many more questions that rose to the surface. Who was telling him that? When did this conversation take place? Why did it take place?
CHAPTER NINE
There was a beeping noise that woke Carter the following morning. The plan had been to sleep late since the last few days had been so emotionally draining. However, Carter was so tired that he reached over and hit the snooze button on the alarm clock. When he did this, the beeping continued. This made him think a bit clearer. He realized that the beep was not so loud and was far away. He looked at the alarm clock again. The time was 9:31 a.m., and that was not an alarm setting for his work. He woke up at 6 a.m. during the week Then he remembered that their discussion with Adam took place the night before, which was Friday night, so this was Saturday and he did not have to report for work.
Brenda eventually heard the beeping, but not before Carter had a few more lazy moments wondering about the beep rather than investigating the beep. Once the beeping stopped, Brenda rolled over onto her side, and with her eyes still closed asked, “What was that noise?”
Carter replied in a sleepy voice, “It’s not my alarm clock. I can tell you that much for sure.”
They both were so exhausted that their curiosity was not enough to rouse them from their bed. At this point in the morning, which was much later than both of them ever slept, they were content just easing into their consciousness. There were additional noises; bangs, slams, and thuds. Their bedroom faced the late Mr. Jenkins’ home, and although they had seen some strange things in that old, abandoned house every once in a while, they had never heard anything coming from there.
Once Carter’s bladder reached the uncomfortable stage, he got to his feet and went into the bathroom. On his return to bed, he made his way to the window to investigate the commotion.
“Oh my God! You’ve got to be shittin’ me,” he said. He rested his hands on the window sills and continued to look out toward old man Jenkins’ house.
Brenda was still half asleep and a little less motivated to learn about his discovery. “What is it?” she asked in a groggy voice, sounding as if she had been forced.
“Looks like we have new neighbors.”
“Are you shittin’ me?”
“Right,”
said Carter. “My words exactly.”
Brenda joined Carter at the window and they watched as a young couple took boxes out of the back of a moving truck and carried them into Mr. Jenkins’ house. They had a young son, too, who appeared to be about Adam’s age. He was put in charge of the lighter items.
This was difficult for Carter to watch as it brought closure to the legacy of Mr. Jenkins, who was like a father to Carter during his childhood. The old man next door was always there. He spent most of his time working on the yard. If he wasn’t mowing or edging it, then he was pruning the trees and bushes, or tending to the garden in the backyard, which produced tons of fruit and vegetables that always seemed to wind up on the kitchen table at the Spence household.
They reflected on the last time they had seen Mr. Jenkins alive. It had been four years ago, and Alzheimer’s was kicking his ass. He would drift in and out of awareness, and Carter had to shout his name just to get his attention and to remind him that there was a conversation going on. Before the Alzheimer’s took conversation away from the old man, he told Carter things that he didn’t even know, like how Carter had been named after the President of the United States, Jimmy Carter. He also learned detailed information about the day he was adopted and how the lady from the adoption agency came to the house. Mr. Jenkins also expressed his thoughts on what Brenda’s approval rating would be in the eyes of Carter’s parents. He thought they would surely approve.
In the four years since Mr. Jenkins’ passing, the yard had gone to pot. He had been so meticulous throughout all of his years, and nobody took over the task. Carter wasn’t sure what was happening with the house after his death. He wasn’t sure if foreclosure had taken place or if it was abandoned. He did know that there were No Trespassing signs throughout the property, but he knew nothing more before this day.
It took a while before the changing of the guard, but he figured it was time, especially since the unkempt yard was swallowing the house. A lot of work needed to be done on the yard alone, and it had been dragging the value of the Spence house down to levels that they did not want to see.
They spent a good 20 minutes watching the neighbors unloading their belongings and reflecting on the history of the house in the time of Mr. Jenkins. It was with mixed emotions that Carter watched this change.
“He was a real good man,” said Carter, “and I miss him being around, but I guess he’s in a better place. He was in pretty bad shape at the end. Still worked in the yard, though, surprisingly. I bet he’s still having trouble letting go. He loved it that much and that was the kind of guy he was. He’d be rolling around in his grave if he ever saw the condition of his yard.”
“Yeah,” said Brenda. “Sounds like a great guy. We’ll have to meet the new neighbors.”
“Yeah, we will…eventually. Let them get settled.”
Brenda smiled, and they left the window.
. . .
Three days following Adam’s return, and never really getting a solid answer as to why he left in the first place, they were able to get an emergency appointment with Child Psychologist, Thurmond Theurkauf. He had come highly recommended by hospital staff, and the highly publicized case of the disappearance of Adam Spence helped to secure an after-hours appointment within a matter of days.
Dr. Theurkauf wanted to speak with the family of three first, before speaking with Adam alone.
“Welcome,” he began. “My name is Dr. Thurmond Theurkauf, and I’m glad that we were able to arrange this appointment with this little guy because I was worried about your son, Adam. So glad he’s back with you guys and back safely.”
The doctor paused to smile, then reaching out to shake Adam’s little hand. He was bald, but maintained strips of hair on both sides of his head. What little hair he did have was thinning, but yelling out, Hey…I’m still here! He smiled, revealing a slight gap between his main teeth. Lots of energy ran through his short and stocky frame.
“So this first session I’m gonna get to know you guys a little betta and dig down a little bit for ansus. Sound like a plan?” He then sat there with his hands on his knees and opened his eyes real wide as if to indicate that he was patiently awaiting a reply.
“Yeah, sure,” said Brenda, grabbing at the bait. Carter confirmed with a nod and a smirk as Dr. Theurkauf’s accent was all Boston.
“Without furtha ado, I’d like to get stautted.” He looked at his watch, ensuring he was on target to end the session at 6:50 PM, and not a minute later.
“I know that Adam was taken from you, and that he was gone for a couple of days. As fah as I understand it, he was found…in a cemetery.”
“That’s correct,” said Carter. “It turns out that he was at the grave site of my parents, whom he never knew.”
“Not his parents,” said Adam.
“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” exclaimed Dr. Theurkauf, who had been leaning back in his chair with his hands clenched together over his belly button. “Adam…if your fatha said that you were at the site of his parents…” The doctor then leaned forward with his hands on his knees, and continued, “…why would you oggue the point? What would he have to gain by saying so? Why oggue?”
Adam stared at the doctor, but said nothing. Then he shifted his eyes down to his little feet.
“Adam…up here.” The doctor had a peace sign turned on its side, pointed at his eyes. “You need to look at people when they talk to you. Looking away doesn’t mean that you don’t have to ansa. You need to ansa my question. Why would you oggue with your fatha about the grave site of his parents? Help me to understand. Now I need you to ans…”
“Because they’re not his parents,” Adam replied.
Dr. Theurkauf shifted in his chair and grimaced as he thought of what to say next. “Adam, why would you say such a thing?”
“Because they’re just…not.”
“Adam, I understand that you are saying that they are not his parents, but if your fatha is saying that they are, then why wouldn’t you believe him? You weren’t even alive when they were?”
“Actually,” said Carter. “There is a little bit of truth to his statement. I was actually adopted when I was a baby, but my adoptive parents I consider to be my real parents. I never knew my real parents. They died before I was born…well, actually, my biological father died before I was born. My mother died during childbirth. I never met them. Never got the opportunity. So I consider Sydney and Patricia Spence to be my real parents.”
“Absolutely,” said Dr. Theurkauf. “You have every right to call them that. They earned the right to that title. They’re all you know to be your parents.” He turned to Adam. “Young man…you need to respect your fatha’s wishes. I know that’s a big word for a little guy such as yourself, but you seem to be older than the average six year old. Tell me…why would you say something like that? Why would you…care who he considers to be his real parents?”
Adam just stared at the doctor, then looked down at his feet once again.
“I know you find your feet fascinating, young man, but I think I have enough information about the family dynamics to put a check mark next to the family session and take you in for a one-on-one. What do you say you and I ditch your parents and have a little chat of our own?”
“No thank you,” said Adam.
The three adults tried to muffle a chuckle. This part of the interview was over, and it was time for Dr. Theurkauf to take Adam away and have a private chat.
. . .
“You seem like a smaut little boy, Adam,” said Dr. Theurkauf.
“Yeah,” Adam replied.
“Yeah? You know you’re smaut, don’t you?”
“Yeah.”
“What we’re going to do in the next, oh�
�twenty or so minutes is get you to ansa my questions with more than just one word. I want you to dig deep and see what you come up with…see what you can think of and say whateva you think, and be truthful about it. Be very truthful.”
The doctor had been leaning against the front of his desk, but took a chair in front of Adam. He smiled his gap-toothed smile as he flipped his notepad to a clean page. He was hoping that he was not so dressed up that he scared the young child, but a suit and tie was just the way he conducted his successful practice.
“Adam,” he began. “Why do you think you’re here? Why do you think mommy and daddy took you to see me?”
“Because the cop said so.”
“Because the cop said so,” Dr. Theurkauf repeated. “Okay, fair enough, but why else do you think they had you come to see Dr. Theurkauf?”
“Aren’t you Dr. Theurkauf?” Adam was confused by the way the doctor kept saying his own name.
“Yes, that’s correct. Why else?” Dr. Theurkauf did not find the humor in this boy, if that was indeed his intent.
“I dunno. Maybe to talk about my friend.” Adam looked up at Dr. Theurkauf, then back down at his feet with uncertainty in his eyes.
Dr. Theurkauf smiled as if he had broken through to Adam. “Who’s your friend?”
“I don’t know if he has a name?”
“Have your parents met your friend?”
Adam tried to speak, but could not do it right away. However, he could feel the doctor’s stare and felt forced to give him something. “They can’t,” he finally managed.
“They can’t meet your friend? Why not? Is he an imaginary friend?” Dr. Theurkauf’s voice rose as if he was aggravated with Adam, and there was no delay in Adam’s next response.
Desert Son Trilogy: Desert Son, Wayward Soul, Spiritual Intervention (Books 1-3) Page 53