The question was, where could Julia and Max go? It was clear to me that the police would soon search the blue house in the barley field, whether they suspected me of anything or not. The kids had to be secretly moved to another location, but I had no idea where, or how to do it. I heard ringing in my ears again, and for several minutes I couldn’t hear at all, but it didn’t matter. There was no one there who could give me advice or say anything to help me. I lay on my bed for at least half an hour, thinking.
In the end, I had a couple of ideas. The first was that I could only move Julia and Max at night. At night we would have at least a slight chance of not being seen. I didn’t really like this solution, though, because I doubted I’d be able to lead them halfway across the neighborhood through the dark without someone seeing us, someone standing at a window peeping out at the end of the day. And that image was horrifying.
The problem was that there wasn’t anyplace in or around Clinton to hide them. The police were right there, ready to mess with my plans. But then it occurred to me that there were a couple of places the police wouldn’t look: the places they had looked already. I tried to remember what the people standing out front of the Brandners’ house had said, and I came up with the old textile mill. I’d been inside a few times. You could climb in through the broken windows, and then you had to jump down onto a huge field of broken glass. Inside, there was an enormous central hall and a lot of smaller rooms where it would be easy to hide.
The mill. Yes. The mill. My next problem was how to get Julia and Max to come with me. How in the world was I going to convince them to believe my lies? How was I going to get them to wait in the sticky, hot blue house till it was time to go? How could I buy the time? And then I had another idea. It was suddenly just there, and it sent me out into the hall, where my grandmother’s cell phone lay charging on the table. It was newer than mine, but it didn’t have a password. Then, as I tapped away, I heard voices coming from the kitchen. Grandma and Trudy were still in there, talking.
I bet I knew exactly what they were talking about.
30
The kitchen door was cool against my ear, tickling it lightly. A few seconds ago, I’d heard nothing but whispers. Now the voices were completely clear. Trudy was speaking in her deep, manly voice.
“. . . but really, Charlotte, how much do we actually know? There’s always an explanation for everything, even Julia’s broken arm. Do you remember that?”
“Elsa Levine thought there was something going on. And then her tires were slashed.”
“Yes, but that was only because it became clear that the broken arm was just an accident. The girl said so herself.”
“I know, Trudy, you’re right, I agree. It’s just that I sometimes wonder . . .”
“Charlotte! In this neighborhood such a thing couldn’t happen. Don’t make a drama of it. It’s bad blood. After all, what do we know? Nothing!”
“But what about the hamburger at the community party? Of course, Max is a bit of a glutton, you can see that easily enough. It’s got to be hard for Christian and Helen to watch him eat and eat and get fatter and fatter. You’ve got to ask yourself where it’s going to end. But last year at the community party, I remember Christian made him eat a hamburger that was still sizzling hot. He just stuffed it in Max’s mouth, and Max went in his pants. You could see the stain on his crotch growing as he stood there. It was so odd how Christian stood around afterward, saying hello to people, being friendly, as if everything was okay. I remember thinking, He can’t just have done that. It’s simply not possible, what I just saw. It was certainly very strange.”
“Charlotte, believe me, what happened that day could mean anything. Anything at all! Things aren’t always how they seem. And, just between us, people aren’t free to do as they wish anymore. The media would like us to ban everything, even slaps in the face. No one used to care about that kind of thing. But it works, doesn’t it. It works.”
I wanted to yank open the door and scream. I was so furious. I was thinking, It is possible, it is possible! This whole time, it’s been possible!
I thought of Max and how carefully and fearfully he had bitten into his hamburger yesterday. I wanted to scream: It is too possible! But I couldn’t scream, because I’d promised Julia and Max.
“. . . it’s really for Helen to do something,” Trudy said. “But she always looks the other way. And if she can’t do anything, who can? It’s up to her. They’re her children, after all.”
“She’s a miserable creature, Helen. Very weak.”
“Although she was the one who got the search going last night. She was driving around all night. Supposedly Christian just stood out front of the house cursing the children. You know: When I get ahold of them! Helen’s never gone looking for them before. Imagine, those kids staying out the whole night.”
“It’s unimaginable.”
“You should have seen Christian and Helen yesterday morning. They looked different somehow.”
“Desperate?”
“Yes, desperate, of course. But something else, too. Determined. Yes, that was it. Determination.”
My sweaty ear was stuck to the door, and also my right arm. I carefully peeled them away, but still made the door move. My heart jumped and then was still a second. What if they’d heard me and I was about to be caught doing something else wrong? What could I say, that my ear was itchy and I had been trying to scratch it on the door? Luckily, they went on talking. I wiped my ear on my shoulder and put it back to the door.
“You know,” said Trudy. “They recently sued the hospital. Someone at the clinic suspected something, and it turned out not to be true. When I think about what that clinic is going to have to pay. You think twice before you say something in a case like this. And in the end, it’s better not to say anything.”
“Just like with Elsa?” said my grandmother. “After she came to you, she must have gone to ten different people’s doors. And then she was sued.”
“It was her own fault. Spreading such rumors. It was character assassination, if you ask me, Charlotte. Character assassination and nothing more.”
“I’m just saying. They’ve certainly run away before. Unless—what if Christian just had a bad day?” my grandmother asked.
“That’s ridiculous! They’ve gone to their aunt’s.”
“Mascha told us something. She saw something through their window. Christian did something to Max. That’s all I know.”
“She’s going to get us all in trouble. All of us, do you understand? The whole community will fall apart. That will be the end of the neighborhood cookouts. And what about us? We’ll be stuck in the middle of that miserable situation, even though we have nothing to do with it. Nothing at all.”
“Trudy, I know. I don’t want anything more to do with this than you do. I told Mascha to keep out of it. Because nothing has actually happened, and none of it really proves anything. And Mascha stopped talking about it. She doesn’t seem interested anymore.”
“Good girl.”
“But it’s just, with this situation now. And Officer Price. I almost thought we ought to have said something.”
“Okay, Charlotte, let’s go over this slowly, once again. Do we have any proof?”
“No! No.”
“Do we know anything for sure?”
“N . . . o. We don’t know anything. We know nothing at all.”
“Good. Let’s keep it that way.”
31
Let’skeepitthatway.
Let’s-keep-it-that-way.
I felt rage, a rage so great it roared in my ears and made my face burn. It rattled my bones and flowed out in my tears.
Then I saw it. Grandma’s wallet. Suddenly I had an idea. Maybe not one of my best, but it seemed pretty good at the time. I opened up the wallet quietly, though it probably wasn’t necessary to be so careful. In the kitchen, they were goin
g on and on. But I didn’t know where my grandfather was; he might be right nearby, and it was also possible that his hearing was sharp enough to hear me undoing the snap.
I looked in the wallet and discovered four bills. After all I’d heard, I didn’t think my grandmother deserved that money, but when I had it in my hand, I realized she would quickly realize her wallet was empty. I didn’t want to draw her attention. Then I remembered that my grandparents had another stash of money in their bedroom, where they kept their savings for going on vacations.
When I opened the door to their bedroom, I started. There, on the left side of their double bed, lay my grandfather! But when I looked again, I saw it was a pair of pants and a T-shirt laid out as if he were wearing them. Still, my entire body was filled with terror, and it took a while before my breathing went back to normal.
The money. I knew where they kept it. My grandmother had let me see once, when she ran out of cash. It was in an old candy tin, cherry red with metallic curlicues and roses on it. Deluxe selection, 19 pieces. Forever and ever this old-fashioned tin had sat inside my grandmother’s nightstand, waiting to be opened.
I used my thumb and forefinger to pry off the lid. Inside the tin there was a small stack of bills. The only time I’d ever held such a large amount of money in my hand before was on my birthday, because Dad never knew what to buy me.
But I knew what I could buy for Julia and Max. It was Friday, and the one big department store in town was open late. I had a crisp green bill in my hand. I would buy them so many wonderful things that they wouldn’t even notice how uncomfortable it was in the blue house. From the guest bedroom, I took the backpack that I always used for my trips to Clinton, because my suitcase was too small for an entire summer vacation. Then I opened the door, called good-bye over my shoulder and set off.
32
I didn’t have to walk through the entire neighborhood to get to the center of town. I just kept to the left, and it was only a few blocks to the next subdivision, but even in that short distance, I saw that there were more people out than usual. On the other side of the street, I watched two old ladies I knew talking excitedly. The feeling of quiet that had always ruled the neighborhood was gone.
There was something in the air. Which made me think of Julia and Max and the terrible smell of the blue house. It must be unbearable by now. I had to hurry if I was going to keep them happy, not to mention convince them to sneak away with me to the mill in the night.
In fifteen minutes, I was at the department store. I cruised through the different sections, buying so many things that I wasn’t sure how I’d carry it all back to Julia and Max. By the end, my backpack was bursting at the seams, and I had a hard time closing it.
This is what was in it:
Nail polish
The Big Box of Games (on sale)
A box of blocks
A beading kit
A picnic blanket
Two small pillows (on sale)
A pirate T-shirt (extra large)
A car magazine
A teen fashion magazine
A pad of drawing paper
12 felt-tip pens
Marshmallows
5 enormous chocolate bars
Cotton candy in plastic containers
2 large bags of gummy bears
Paper plates and bowls and plastic utensils
Napkins
3 bags of chips
A bag of salted pretzels
Muffins
3 large bottles of lemonade
With the rest of the money, I went to a fast-food place and bought a large order of fries and two hamburgers. Then, with my jam-packed backpack and bag of food, I headed for the blue house. It was past three, and Julia and Max would be waiting. All in all, I had been gone over two hours. I imagined them banging on the door and cursing me with every bad word they knew. They had no way of understanding how much better it was for them to be in the little house, where no one could hit or shove them.
I decided to pass by the Brandners’ house, but the closer I got, the harder my heart began to beat. I was just wondering whether I ought to let myself be seen there with the backpack and plastic bag when I crossed one of the larger streets in town and looked to the left, some fifty yards down the road, to where another large field began.
There were people on the edge of the field.
Men and women, stretched out in a long chain.
Wearing black.
Long sticks in their hands.
Dogs. Dogs on leashes.
Dogs.
They had begun the search.
33
I ran across the street and was nearly hit by a car. It stopped with a squeal of breaks at the very last second, but I ran on with my heavy pack, while the driver shouted at me. At just that moment, the thin handle of the plastic bag gave out, and everything fell with a crash to the ground. I bent down, clutched the bag to my belly and ran on.
Oh, God!
It was so hot.
Not a breath of wind.
But I was shivering.
It was then that I first heard the sound overhead, and to my horror a helicopter flew into sight, red, white and black, moving slowly and carrying the large, dark, threatening letters of the worst word I could imagine through the sky: POLICE. I was sure the men flying in it had already noticed me hurrying through the neighborhood with my backpack, but then the helicopter moved in the other direction.
By this time I was nearly back at my grandparents’ house. I turned down a small side road so I wouldn’t be seen with the backpack and bag of food. Everywhere people were looking up into the sky and shaking their heads or muttering. The clear skies of the neighborhood had definitely never been polluted by a helicopter before.
I didn’t think my legs had the strength or the courage to go another step, but somehow they did. They brought me to the Brandner house and into the crowd of onlookers, all talking wildly and standing around importantly, though not one of them knew anything—not that it seemed to bother them.
I turned, looked across the street and saw Mr. Benrath standing behind his garden fence with excitement in his eyes, waving, and it seemed he was waving at me. The truth is, I wanted to pretend I hadn’t seen him, but then it occurred to me that, if he had had a good day, I might learn something from the old man.
“Mr. Benrath, hello!”
“Yes, Mascha, my dear. I have a lovely cup of tea for you, my girl, with real cream.”
“But—”
“Come, my dear, let me make you one!”
“You know, I really don’t want any tea. I just wanted to ask what’s going on. You seem to have a front row seat.”
Mr. Benrath smiled and slowly nodded his wrinkled head.
“Yes, yes,” he said kindly. “They’re gone. It’s causing everyone quite a fright.” And, then, just like it had done a few weeks ago, the old man’s face became serious, taking on a ghostly smile. And in a whisper, Mr. Benrath told me, “Everyone’s afraid. Maybe they didn’t run away, right? Maybe something really did happen.”
“But everybody said they ran away by themselves, Mr. Benrath, even the police.”
“Ran away by themselves?”
“That’s what everybody said, and the police.”
“Ah, but now they don’t believe it anymore. No one’s seen them anywhere, those children. Certainly not the aunt that everyone was talking about. They got hold of her finally, and she didn’t know a thing about the children. So now they don’t believe that anymore.”
“But what do they believe? What do they believe now?”
Mr. Benrath kept looking at me, and then, after a couple of seconds, for no reason he began to smile happily again. I looked back over at the people standing around in front of the Brandner house and got the impression that this was just another neighborhood party, only m
inus the burgers, the beer and any reason to celebrate. In the middle of the crowd, I saw Mrs. Johnson, though she, like Mr. Benrath, could just as easily have looked on from her garden fence. She was holding her garden shears and head scarf, talking excitedly with an old man and waving her arms wildly.
She spotted me and called out, “Mascha! Mascha, come over here.”
She was trying to lure me with the crooked finger of her right hand, like some witch in a fairy tale. Forget it, leave me alone, I thought, and turned quickly away, saying good-bye to Mr. Benrath and taking my backpack, my food and myself away from there.
34
The blue house reeked, and it wasn’t just the full bucket in the corner that stank anymore, but the house was also hot and stifling. There was the smell of sweat and the smell of the mattress and the smell of garbage. I looked at the dirty plastic containers from the night before. They stank of rotten food.
It was quiet. Completely quiet.
Here, inside, you couldn’t hear helicopters or dogs or Mrs. Johnson. All those things belonged to another world that hardly even seemed real. But Julia and Max? They existed. They were lying on the mattress, right in front of me, but they were completely out of it. Both of them were fast asleep.
Breathing, snoring lightly.
What I saw was horrible, the polar opposite of the happy scene on the mattress the day before. Yesterday everything had seemed all right, almost good, like nothing bad could happen anymore.
But now?
Now the kids looked pathetic.
Julia had damp, sweaty hair and lay rolled up in a ball like before, but this time she seemed weak and defenseless. Her face was an awful color, blotchy gray and red. In her hands she clutched my music player.
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