Small Spaces

by Sarah Epstein

  And then I spot him.

  Eight stores down, peeking out from behind a column.

  My heart slams against my ribs.

  How? I got rid of him! How the hell can he be here?

  This has to be some kind of prank, and I’m already moving to find out.

  He takes off in a light run when he sees me coming. I battle against the flow of foot traffic, knocking into shoulders and muttering apologies, trying to keep a lock on the black hoodie as he bobs and ducks out of my crosshairs. The crowd becomes more congested when we reach the forecourt area. Scanning left and right, I scrutinise every dark piece of clothing. None of them his. None of them him.

  Hot tears prick at my eyes and I growl in frustration. After all of my sessions with Dr Ingrid, I can’t believe I’m back here wondering what’s real and what isn’t.

  Feeling ridiculous, I haul myself back up to the food court, my appetite lost to the festering worry in the pit of my stomach. My watch tells me it’s almost time to meet Mum, time to shake this off and plaster a smile across my face. Be normal.

  As I weave my way back towards our table, I think I must’ve got turned around somehow.

  This can’t be right.

  I glance behind me to reorientate myself with the sushi shop. This is definitely the section where I left Tim.

  Tripping and stumbling over chairs, I fight my way through to our table, a fist of panic seizing my chest. Tim’s half-eaten burger is lying dishevelled on its waxy wrapping paper. His bottle of water is on its side vomiting its contents all over the floor, and Tim–

  Tim’s gone.

  10

  THEN

  The Mid Coast Times | Archives

  Section: News

  Date: 19 January 2008

  PORT BELLAMY, NSW – Six-year-old girl missing for seven days found alive.

  Police confirmed that Mallory Fisher, who disappeared from the Greenwillow Carnival last Saturday, was found yesterday near a hiking trail more than forty kilometres from where she went missing. At around 4 pm she was spotted by hikers as she attempted to climb out of a dry creek bed in Barrington Tops National Park.

  Brandon Elliott, a nineteen-year-old university student hiking with his parents in the area, claimed he heard a “mewling noise” he believed to be an injured animal. When he peered into the creek bed below he saw a small girl trying to pull herself up a steep dirt bank. He could not confirm if she was wearing the yellow sundress she disappeared in because she was “so filthy”, although he did confirm she had no shoes or cardigan. Elliott also claimed she was covered in scratches and “looked like she’d yanked some hair out. She was pretty messed up.”

  Mallory was mildly hypothermic and suffering from dehydration and multiple abrasions. She was taken to John Hunter Hospital in Newcastle where, according to her father, Daniel Fisher, she is in a stable condition but “confused and exhausted”.

  It is unclear how long Mallory was wandering in Barrington Tops National Park. Police believe she may have been held in a prior location. Her general state of health indicated it is unlikely she was outside for the full duration of her disappearance. Inspector Owen Morris also stated, “There’s evidence she has interacted with another person or persons due to the nature of her injuries.” Inspector Morris would not speculate if a possible abductor was still at large. He did confirm a dog squad is undertaking a search of the surrounding area.

  “Now that Mallory has been located safe and well, we will concentrate our efforts on the investigation of her disappearance and the circumstances of how she came to be found in this location,” Inspector Morris said.

  He confirmed his team were hoping to speak to Mallory today, but their focus first and foremost is on the child’s wellbeing. “As you can appreciate, Mallory needs to recover from her injuries and her exposure to the elements. We need to make sure she is in good health before we can question her further.”

  Police are encouraging anyone to come forward who may have information that will assist in their investigation.

  11

  NOW

  Not again.

  Not again not again.

  I circle the table uselessly.

  “Tim?” I call across the food court. I spin around. “Tim?”

  Nearby eaters offer me curious glances; beyond those few tables my cries are absorbed into the drone of shopping centre commotion.

  Why did I leave Tim alone? Why the hell did I run off chasing shadows?

  Because Sparrow wanted you to. You left Tim exposed so he could swoop in and take him, just like he took Mallory.

  Dragging fingers across my scalp, I scrunch my eyes closed.

  No.

  Sparrow was a fabrication, Dr Ingrid says, created by a lonely girl craving attention. Sparrow didn’t climb into my bedroom at Ally’s house, or lock me in a box, or steal Mallory from the Greenwillow Carnival. It doesn’t matter how I think I remember those events, I know now I made them up.

  “Excuse me,” I say to an elderly lady on a nearby table. “Did you see a little boy sitting here? Blond hair. Black Darth Vader T-shirt?”

  “Oh, sure, hun.” She places her coffee cup down and peers over the rim of her glasses. “He spilled his food all over the place, and his friend came and took him away.”

  Lead weight presses into my chest. “His friend?”

  “That’s right, hun. Went in that direction.” She points towards the opposite end of the food court. “Boy was happy to go with ‘im. Guy seemed real friendly.”

  Yeah, because that’s what he does. He tricks you into doing what he wants.

  I crush my eyelids shut. “Stop,” I hiss under my breath. When I open my eyes the lady is watching me. I mumble my thanks and bump around dizzy-headed, searching one end of the food court to the other. By the time I’ve retraced my steps all the way back to the arcade, I know it’s hopeless. I’m going to have to call my mother.

  She picks up on the third ring. “Have you two finished eating? I’m about five minutes away.”

  “Mum, I’ve lost Tim,” I blurt. “He was at the table and I went to get food and I came back and he’s gone and I looked everywhere and I don’t know where he’s gone.”

  “Natasha, slow down. What’s this about Tim? Where is he?”

  “That’s what I’m saying! I left him eating at the table and when I came back he wasn’t there.” I feel woozy and disconnected. There’s a real risk I might throw up right here outside Kmart.

  There’s no response at the other end, and for a moment I think maybe the phone line has cut out.

  “Mum? Are you there?”

  Her words are frosty when she answers. “Are you telling me you left Tim by himself?”

  This is my fault – my fault – and we both know it.

  “Just for a minute,” I lie. “Just while I lined up for sushi.”

  Mum’s already talking over the top of me, because it doesn’t matter where I was. I wasn’t with Tim. I wasn’t looking after my brother, end of story.

  “I’m walking to the concierge desk on level one,” Mum says. “We’ll put a call-out over the shopping centre’s sound system. Meet me there. Now.”

  As a testament to my mother’s efficiency, a message is broadcast before I’m even off the escalator.

  “Tim Carmody, your mother is waiting for you at the concierge desk on level one. Tim Carmody, please meet your mother at Concierge on level one.”

  Just “your mother”. Not your sister, the one who carelessly lost you.

  Dread soaks through me as I drag myself the last few metres to where Mum’s standing. She’s speaking to two security guards with walkie-talkies, and when she spots me she gestures impatiently for me to join them. The men in black uniforms are coordinating a search. The sense of deja vu is staggering.

  Reiterating my story, I leave out the chunk about me chasing after a hooded imaginary friend. I mention the elderly lady in the food court, how she saw Tim leaving with somebody.

  “Did she give a d
escription?” asks one of the guards. “What did this guy look like?”

  “I–I didn’t ask her,” I say, my naivety dawning on me. I didn’t ask her because I already know exactly what Sparrow looks like. Except he’s not real. So how could it possibly be Sparrow that she saw?

  Beside me my mother heaves a sigh, and the security team hurries away. I sink onto a wooden seat and rest my elbows on my legs to stop them trembling. I can’t look Mum in the face, and she’s not interested in me anyway. She pesters the woman at Concierge for another announcement, peppering her with questions about how soon we should involve the police.

  Music blares from a nearby clothing store and a clutch of giggling tweens skip past me without a care in the world. I drop my head into my hands and stare at my shoes.

  What was I thinking leaving Tim alone? Even if I hadn’t spaced out again, even if I hadn’t imagined seeing Sparrow, why did I think it was okay to leave a nine year old alone in a packed food court when there are so many weirdos in the world?

  I glance over at my mum, her face stony with worry. Her eyes are drawn to mine and I sense a momentary connection, an opportunity for me to support her. I scramble to my feet and move to her side, my hand hovering beside her elbow. Her phone vibrates in her handbag and she dives for it, inadvertently knocking my hand aside. She leans into the concierge desk as she answers and it gives her an excuse to turn away from me. It feels like my whole life has been a view of Mum’s shoulder, her folded arms and the jut of her chin.

  Another ten minutes pass that feel like a lifetime. More announcements over the sound system. One of the security guards checks in with nothing to report. My mother juggles updates between phone calls to my father while I pace back and forth feeling useless.

  Then I hear it: rapid footsteps, rubber slapping against polished concrete.

  Tim’s voice.

  “Tash, I’m here. I’m right here!”

  I spin around to find him hurrying down the concourse towards me. I barely notice the figure weaving through the crowd close behind. All that registers is Tim running for me with a mixture of guilt and relief on his face … and Mum intercepting him before he reaches me.

  “Oh, thank god,” she says, dragging him into a hug. “Where have you been? I’ve been worried sick.”

  Tim tries to untangle himself from her, annoyed at the fuss being made in public. He peers around Mum’s shoulder, seeking me out.

  “I made a big mess with my lunch,” he tells me. “I needed to get cleaned up. We looked but we couldn’t find you.”

  My stomach flutters at the mention of “we”. Tim glances behind him and I follow his sight line to the lean figure loitering beside the concierge desk. Morgan gives me an awkward smile. Something flickers in the back of my mind that feels like suspicion.

  “I’m so sorry,” he says, his gaze bouncing between me and my mother. “We didn’t mean to worry anyone.”

  For a second, both Mum and I struggle to articulate a response.

  “Where did you take him?” Mum says. “Why?”

  “My burger fell in my lap,” Tim explains, pointing at a damp patch across the front of his shorts. There’s faint residue of tomato sauce. “I tried to clean it up and then I knocked my water over too.” His eyes find mine, his expression half shame, half accusatory. “I couldn’t find you.”

  “I was lining up for sushi,” I croak, feeling Mum’s gaze on me again. “That place I pointed out to you, remember?”

  “No, you weren’t,” Tim says, firmly. “We looked for you and you weren’t there.”

  He glances at Morgan for backup and Mum arches an eyebrow. She has no idea who Morgan is. If she thought she had cause for concern already, just wait till she learns his name.

  Morgan clears his throat and shuffles forwards. “I was wandering through the food court and saw him mopping up the mess on the table.” He glances at me. “I recognised his T-shirt. You know, from earlier? He was wearing half his lunch in his lap and was pretty desperate to get cleaned up.”

  Tim kicks at the ground, embarrassed. Morgan winks at him.

  “Hang on,” Mum says. “Do you two know each other …?” She glares at me like she’s missing the joke and isn’t one bit happy about it.

  “I’m a friend of Tash’s,” Morgan offers. He doesn’t elaborate and I send him a silent message of thanks. He doesn’t know that dropping the Fisher name in front of my mother right now would make things decidedly worse.

  “Didn’t you hear the announcements?” Mum asks, eyes narrowing. “Why wouldn’t you bring him here the moment you heard he was missing?”

  The thought crossed my mind as well.

  “We were in the men’s room,” Tim announces. “I took my shorts off so we could wash them under the tap.”

  A tendon flexes in Mum’s neck. “You took your shorts off?”

  “No, no, no,” Morgan says, waving his hands. “Tim was in the cubicle. He passed his shorts out underneath the door so I could wash them. Nobody saw.”

  He throws me a desperate glance as Mum gives him the once-over.

  “I had the wet shorts under the hand dryer,” Morgan adds. “We didn’t hear a thing until the announcement five minutes ago.” He glances at me again. “We were coming back to find you.”

  “At the sushi shop,” Mum clarifies, her scepticism swinging back to me. “Where you were supposedly lining up the whole time.”

  Morgan slides me an apologetic look mingled with curiosity. I’m going to have to admit I wasn’t where I said I was, and my reason for disappearing will sound absolutely ludicrous. And though Morgan will probably think I’m certifiable and Mum will have Dr Ingrid on speed-dial, the only person I’m worried about is Tim. I don’t want him to think he can’t trust me.

  Sweat beads on my top lip as I try to think of how to word an excuse. “I don’t know, I …”

  Morgan watches me squirm, his gaze darting between me and my mother.

  “Oh, wait,” he says, clicking his fingers. “There are two sushi places, right? We must have looked for you at the wrong one.”

  “Er, yeah,” I say. “Right.”

  “Well, it doesn’t change the fact that you need to be more careful, Natasha,” Mum says. “If you’d stayed at the table with Tim none of this would have happened. It’s completely irresponsible.”

  She turns to inform the security staff they can call off the search. I quickly pull Tim into a hug and kiss the top of his head. “I’m so sorry, Timber. I shouldn’t have left you alone. I promise it won’t happen again, okay?”

  He shrugs, already distracted by a nearby electronics store.

  As my mother phones my dad, Morgan gently pulls me aside. Despite how wrung out I feel, a tingle dances along my arm where his fingers meet my skin.

  “You all right?”

  I muster a small smile. “Apart from my mother thinking I’m useless? Yeah, I’ll live.”

  “Don’t worry,” he says. “I think I came out of this whole thing looking a lot worse than you.”

  “Hey, Morgan, thanks.” I don’t specify what for but I hope he can sense it anyway. He lifts his chin and I can tell he knows he’s helped me a lot more than merely by keeping Tim safe.

  “You know, if you’d just given me your number,” he teases, “none of this would have happened.”

  His words jolt me. An absurd thought flies in from left field: is Morgan saying he took Tim on purpose? To get my attention?

  Morgan’s eyes widen at my frown.

  “I–I just mean I could have called you from the food court,” he says. “And none of this–” he flails an arm in the direction of the concierge desk, “–would have happened.”

  I shake my ludicrous thought away. Jesus, Tash. Get a grip.

  “Right,” Mum says, marching over and taking Tim’s hand. “Time to go.” Tim wiggles his hand out of her grasp as she looks Morgan up and down one last time. “Thank you for your help …” She tilts her head, an invitation for Morgan to introduce himself.
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  “Um, Morgan,” he says, removing his hand from his pocket like he might offer to shake Mum’s. She makes no return gesture so Morgan places it awkwardly on his hip.

  “Right. Thank you, Morgan.” Mum’s face is a perfect mask of cordiality. She thanks the concierge staff and marches Tim towards the car park. I move to follow and Morgan falls into step beside me.

  “Hey, if you ever want to talk about what happened today,” he says, keeping his voice low, “I’m here and willing to listen.”

  He knows I wasn’t at the sushi shop, and he knows I let him lie to my mother to cover for me. I know I owe him the truth, I just don’t know how to explain it without sounding like a head case.

  “It messes you up a bit,” Morgan says, shoving his hands into his pockets again. “When your younger sibling goes missing on your watch.”

  This stops me in my tracks. Morgan takes another step before stopping too. He glances over his shoulder, his face so open and sincere I’m tempted to spill everything. Not only about today, about the past too.

  Instead, I completely chicken out.

  “Mallory doesn’t blame you though, right?” I move half a step towards him. “I mean, it wasn’t your fault she was lured away from that toilet block.”

  He frowns. “No one’s ever blatantly come out and said they blame me, no.” His frown deepens and it sets my pulse racing. “Why did you say Mallory was taken from the carnival’s toilets? The police said she wandered off and someone probably snatched her from one of Greenwillow’s back roads.”

  “Oh, I–” my stomach writhes, “–no, no, you’re right. I’m getting mixed up. It was so long ago I’m getting things confused.”

  Morgan eyes me for a moment and it feels like he can see under my skin. For a split second there’s a hardness to his stare, and I wonder if I have something to fear. He’s going to press me for more details and I’ll have to explain my delusion about my imaginary friend abducting his sister.

  “Look, I have to go.” I nod at my mother and Tim disappearing through the automatic doors. “I’d better not keep Mum waiting on top of everything else. Thanks again, and I’m sorry you had to get involved in my screw-up.”