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Page 10
“Thirteen.”
“Thirteen. And he’s been out for a while?”
Telly yelled over his shoulder. “Glow? Where are you? Cops are here. They got questions.”
Gloria walked past me. Her nose was red and fat. She wiped her face with a balled-up tissue. Chicken pulled at my hand, but I held on good.
“Hello, ma’am,” the older one said. “We got a call about your son. Been gone for a while?”
“I thought we had to wait twenty-four hours,” Gloria said when she sat down. She kept squeezing the tissue. Squiggly bits of white fell on the table.
“No, ma’am. Not with a minor.”
“I didn’t know. He’s only twelve. A tiny twelve.”
“He turned thirteen, Glow.”
“Thirteen.” She squeaked. “Time’s gone crazy. Rushing like that.”
“When did you last see him, ma’am?”
She was sniffing a lot. I wanted to squeeze her to stop her being so sad.
“Last night. But—but I thought he’d gone to bed. Was in his room. You know how they never come out at that age.”
The man nodded.
“When I came down this morning, the door was wide open.”
“What door?”
“Those.” Gloria pointed at the sliding doors. The ones I watched Rowan through. But I didn’t watch Rowan through. Rowan was not outside.
“You think he went out through those, ma’am?”
“I do,” she said. “I do.”
“Okay.”
“And what a puddle of water on the floor this morning. Everywhere.”
The man in the tie scritched his face. “Rainwater, you think?”
She nodded. “From the storm.”
“That was quite some rain we had last night. But it calmed down around, around…” He looked at the policeman.
“Around midnight, sir. Cleared away completely.”
“So, if that was rainwater on your floor, he exited the premises before midnight.” He wrote something in his book. Then he looked down at the floor and coughed. “Did you notice anything, Mrs. Janes? Footprints? Any signs someone came into your home?”
“Nothing,” she said. She shook her head for a long time. “Other than the dog’s. Mud from his paws. I cleaned it up. The water. I shouldn’t have done that? I should have left it?” Her voice went funny. She started to cry again. Then she waved at me. “Bids?”
I looked at the floor in front of the door. I had to remember it good. It was wide open this morning. Gloria’s hand didn’t flick the black switch last night to lock out Rowan. And lock out the wolves. She was upstairs gone to bed. She didn’t put Rowan outside. I was sleeping in Telly’s chair. I had root beer before and the bubbles tickled my chin. There was a big mess this morning. The water was all spread out and slippery. Chicken made muddy paw prints. Gloria was angry about the floor. But not too angry.
I nodded. My head felt worse and worse. Like my brain was in a radio and the songs weren’t playing right. I was trying to push the pictures in there and make them stay. “It was messy. From Chicken. Chicken can be a very bad dog.”
I let go of Chicken’s collar. He went right over to the man. The man rubbed Chicken’s head and Chicken’s tail bumped. Then he looked at me and smiled. “I’m sure he can be a very good dog, too.”
Gloria hiccuped from all the crying. “I’m beside myself, Mr. Um. Detective. Just out of my mind with worry.”
“Has he done this sort of thing before? Gone out overnight?”
Gloria tucked her head down and started crying loud. “No, never.” She sounded all sloshy. “He’s a wonderful boy. A wonderful son.” Telly put his head low too. He was smoothing her back. “What type of child would go out in that weather?”
“I’m sorry,” the man said. “I know this is difficult. But it’s not uncommon, you know. Teens, especially, like to startle their parents. Keep us on our toes.”
“We already searched the house,” she said. “Searched the shed, and Telly went through the woods as best he could. No sign.”
“Friends? Neighbors? Someone he might want to meet? A girl, maybe? Or people he might seek out if he were upset.”
I swallowed. Inside my head I heard Carl whisper Little Fawn. Like he was right next to me.
“No. He’s not one of those kids with a crowd, let alone a girl. He likes being on his own, mostly. I don’t know how to say it. He’s not popular. Can’t get along and stuff. Besides with his sister. And this boy named Darrell. A really good kid. He’s like a mentor to Rowan, like a role model. He’s in the house with the motorcycle out front. But I asked him, and he said he hasn’t seen him.”
“We’ll talk to him. Anyone else he might have reached out to?”
“Maybe Mrs. Spooner?” Telly said. “Did you call her, Glow?”
“She hasn’t seen him neither.”
“Who’s Mrs. Spooner?”
“She’s his favorite teacher,” Telly said. “And during the summer she volunteers at the library. Older lady. First house on the north side when you come into Pinchkiss Circle. Likes Rowan a lot.”
“I’ve never been comfortable with her, if you ask me. The way she dotes on him.”
“Glow, seriously. She’s nearly sixty-five at least. Lost her husband. Lives alone with some cats. I don’t think she can do much harm.”
“You never know.” She looked at the man with the moon tie. “It just plucked my radar, if you know what I mean.”
“I do,” the man said. He wrote down more. “We’ll talk to her. We’ll talk to all your neighbors.”
Gloria’s eyebrows pushed together again. She was crying more. “It’s just—I didn’t mean…I’m being foolish. I’m sure that lady got nothing to do with it. Telly moved out. Came last night for dinner and didn’t stay like we all thought he would. That’s what set Rowan off. It’s been so hard on the boy.”
“You don’t got to say that, Glow.” Telly’s face got red. “Don’t you think I’m torn up enough?”
“It’s the truth, Telly.”
Telly stood up. “I need a smoke.” He went out on the porch. The policeman followed him.
Gloria kept talking. “Telly left a month or so before school ended. Moved in with some other woman, right out of the blue. It was quite the blow. To all of us really. Rowan’s been acting up since. Just distraught, I suppose. I mean, can you blame him? It’s been impossible on me, trying to keep his spirits up and work most days and watch after Maisy.”
“I can imagine,” he said. The man wrote everything down. “Difficult relationship between the two of them, then?”
“Oh, yes. It wasn’t healthy. Pick, pick, pick. That can drive a kid bonkers.”
He wrote down some more. Telly’s smoke stink came into the house. He was against the screen. The policeman was talking to him and Telly smoked hard. His cheeks were pulled and I could see what he looked like if he was just a skeleton.
Gloria wiggled her hand at me. “Come here, Bids?” I went closer. “Tell this gentleman everything, okay? Exactly what you told me. After the root beer? You know, and the show? I went on up to bed. Just worn out doing home repairs.” She picked at specks of yellow paint still on her hands.
“Are you his sister?”
I nodded.
“What’s your name?”
“Maisy Anna Gloria Janes,” I whispered. My middle squeezed up.
He smiled. I chewed at my lip.
“How old are you, Maisy?”
“Seven,” I said.
“I know this is upsetting, but if you can tell me as best as you remember. It sure would help. Do you understand?”
“Yes,” I said, but it didn’t come out very loud.
“So you were the last one to see your brother last night?”
I nodded again, then shook my head. In my side eye, I saw Gloria frown because I started wrong. Stars were coming out around the man with the tie. I wanted to sit down and lie against Chicken. But I didn’t.
“Can you
tell me what happened?”
“Yes, tell the man everything. He’s here to help, sweetheart.”
I knew this time sweetheart didn’t mean sweetheart. My mouth was full of dust. “I was just, um, watching. And then I, I fell asleep.”
“Watching what?”
“What show, Maisy?”
“I—it—”
“I remember,” Gloria said. “You told me it was outer space something or another. Jetsons or was it those blobs that change shape or—”
“Mrs. Janes? It’d be really helpful to let your daughter tell me.”
“Oh. Of course. Right.”
“Maisy?” He looked at me.
“About animals,” I said. I closed my eyes. All the right pictures were there, I just had to line them up and keep them from getting away. And not let any other ones in. None of Rowan on the deck in the rain. None of him running at the woods. None of lightning. None of Carl. Especially none of Carl. “Tigers. A whole lot of them. They were eating squirrels.”
“Oh my.” Gloria frowned harder. Maybe I’d gotten the animals wrong too.
“Or maybe possums,” I said.
“That don’t sound like a show for a child. I didn’t know.”
“Tigers and possums, hey?” the man said. “That’s quite the combination.” He smiled again and tapped his pen. “Scary.”
I looked down at my feet. “No,” I said. “Rowan was there. We had root beer. We weren’t allowed to watch another show, but we did. Gloria said that’s being crafty.” Gloria had her mouth moving when I was telling stuff. I watched her mouth real close.
“Crafty, hey? I’m sure your mom isn’t bothered by an extra show,” the man said.
“Gosh, no.” Gloria sounded like a bird feather. I smiled at her.
“What happened then, Maisy?”
“I fell asleep.”
“You fell asleep. Okay.” He kept on writing. I didn’t like that. “Do you know what time you woke up?”
“Uh-uh.” I didn’t know about the waking up part. I didn’t have a picture for that.
“Was the television still on? Was there a white screen? Or some colored bars? A noise that just goes on and on?”
The question was too big and long and I didn’t know what to answer. Gloria was looking at me with strong eyes. I started to feel dizzy. I couldn’t remember how to get air.
“Or did Rowan turn it off?” Gloria asked.
I nodded, and Gloria nodded, and the brightness came back into my eyes. Then I had an idea. “I thought he was gone to pee.”
“Was the door open?”
I chewed more off my lip. A bad taste came in my mouth. Like pennies.
“Just think,” he said.
I shook my head.
“That’s okay, Maisy. You’ve done very, very well.” Then he said to Gloria, “And you were in bed? Is that correct, ma’am?”
“I said that already.”
“Yes, of course. I’m just trying to make sure I have everything right.”
“Rowan is gone,” she said. “Just gone. We can’t find him nowhere.”
“I understand, Mrs. Janes. We’re going to do everything we can to get your boy back.” He made a loop with his hand. His notebook snapped shut. “I’m just going to step outside for a minute. Talk to my officer.”
Gloria came and gave me a giant hug. She hugged me so tight it hurt, and I coughed. My back went crack-crack and my eyes closed up.
“You’re such a good girl,” she whispered. “Such a good, good girl. You told them the whole truth. Perfectly.”
MAISY
“We’d like to take a look around,” said the man with the tie. He had come back inside. The policeman was with him. They were both looking at Gloria. “If that’s okay with you, ma’am. You’d be surprised how many kids just tuck themselves away right inside their own homes.”
“Really?”
“Really.”
“To make us worry.” Her eyes were still big and pink.
“Yes, ma’am. Exactly.” The policeman twirled his mustache on his finger. “Where’s his bedroom?”
“He’s not there,” she said. “I told you. We already checked. Telly and me.”
Telly was still outside smoking more. He put his hand in his hair. The smoke came out the top of his head and it looked like a tiny chimney.
“Of course you checked,” the policeman said. “I understand how upsetting this is, and we’re taking it very seriously.”
“A second pair of eyes, ma’am. Certainly won’t hurt. And to be effective, we need to be very systematic in our approach.”
“No, I guess.” Gloria walked them around the house. I heard their feet coming through the ceiling upstairs. Quiet steps and then Gloria’s stomp, stomp. With my ears I followed them moving around until they came back. “Do you have a downstairs?”
“Basement,” Gloria said. She pointed down the hallway.
He walked over and looked at the basement door. “Do you always keep it padlocked?”
“Yes, sir, I most surely do.” Gloria put her hands on her hips. “My husband still got some of his guns down there and it’s the responsible thing when there’s children in the house.”
“Good for you,” the policeman said. “I wish every parent was as conscientious. Accidents do happen. I’ve seen it firsthand.”
“I can tell you right now he’s not down there, but I can open it up.”
“Please,” he said. We need to be thorough.”
Gloria went upstairs again and stomped back down with a shiny key in her hand. She wiped her forehead. I think she was sweating. Then she unlocked the door and they went down the basement stairs. They were mumbling down there but I couldn’t hear. Outside Telly flicked his cigarette away, and then he started patting the yellow paint on the door. He was looking at it real close like he didn’t know what it was. Then he looked at the tops of his fingers, but it had to be dry by now.
Gloria and those men came back upstairs. The moon-tie man said, “We’ll just check around outside.” They both went out the front door and down over the steps. Telly followed. I sneaked behind them.
“Odd, isn’t it,” the man in the uniform said. “A kid going off in that weather? My guess, he was furious about something.”
“If he went off at all,” the tie man said.
They were doing the same thing Telly did. They looked under the front porch and the side deck with their flashlights. Telly was watching them and shaking his head. Then one went to the shiny car and talked into a thing on a cord. The other went to the shed, but he poked his head out and chopped the air with his hand. A little bit later a van came down our driveway. It wobbled side to side in the potholes. Then a real police car came with lights, but the lights were turned off. Our driveway was full, and there were lots of extra people outside. Some of them were our neighbors who lived around the circle. Telly was standing there talking to them. “It’s the boy,” he said. “We don’t know where he’s got to.”
When I sneaked inside again, the tie man was talking to Gloria.
“Mrs. Janes, do you have a recent photo?”
Gloria scritched at her neck. “Not really. My camera broke.”
“School photo?”
“Do you know how much those things cost? And they’re never no good. Blinking or scowling. You get the worst of the kid, you really do. I just gave up on them.”
She had pictures of me. A bunch on the same sheet. They were in an envelope upstairs.
“Anything at all to help us?”
I tugged at Gloria’s sleeve. She bent down. “Yes, Bids?”
“He got a class one,” I whispered. Everyone got a group photo for free, and Rowan gave his to me. He said he didn’t like seeing himself in a picture.
“Yes, yes. You’ve got such a memory. Go and grab that, will you, darling?”
I ran up to my room. I found it right away because it was in my night table, hidden under my book Mrs. Spooner gave me for passing the year. Mrs. Spooner didn
’t have no children, so she was extra nice to me and Rowan. It was not for my grade, she said, but she thought I could do it if I tried a page at a time. I only read a bit of it though. When I knew the dad was going to kill that baby pig with an ax, I folded the page and put it away.
The policeman looked at it. He brought the tiny picture close to his face. He scritched Rowan’s face with his fingernail. “Is that a water stain on the print or—or does your son have vitiligo?”
“Viti-what?”
“Loss of pigment. Leaves white blotches on otherwise healthy skin. I have a cousin with the same condition.”
“Yes, yes. Something like that. It’ll grow back, though. Even out. Just needs to get more fresh air.”
“Must be tough on the boy.” The end of his mustache went into his mouth. He nibbled at it. “Well, we’ll get that information out there. I think we can enlarge this.”
“And what was he wearing last?” said the tie man.
“Maisy-Bids? Do you remember?”
What was Rowan wearing? I remembered him outside, water bouncing off him and raindrops pushing down on his hair and his T-shirt and his shorts. He made those shorts from an old pair of blue jeans. In my head I brought him back inside. I dried him off. I put him in Telly’s chair and I put the soda in his hand. He took my glass and gave me his because he said I could have the bigger one, like Carl did with Girl and the wiener. That was being nice, Rowan said. And I put my head against his shoulder and laughed. Then I had to squeeze up my eyes because the tiger was eating another squirrel.
“Maisy?” The tie man said my name.
“She does that,” Gloria said. “Drifts off.”
“That’s okay, Maisy. I drift off too sometimes. Can you remember what your brother was wearing?”
“A T-shirt. A white one and it had a donkey on it, kicking out its back legs.”
“Well done, Maisy. Anything else?”
“Shorts. His jeans.”
He wrote down what I said. “Was he wearing shoes?”
I shook my head. I knew for sure because the rain was hopping all around his bare feet.
“Shoes missing, Mrs. Janes?”
“Not that I can see.”
“Okay. This is all useful. It’ll help us get a description out.”