by Ike Hamill
She had her arms around a woman.
“Lily?” Reynold whispered. If Eric hadn’t been at his back, he would have collapsed.
# # #
They all gathered around Lily, leading her towards the table like she was unable to walk on her own. It seemed that everyone, even Jessie, wanted to put a hand on her to make sure that she was really there.
“Where have you been?” Zinnia asked. She backhanded a tear away from her eye.
“You didn’t get my postcards?” Lily asked.
“We got one,” Eric said. He ran to the refrigerator and returned with it.
Lily took it and turned it over. “See? I knew the rates changed. My girlfriend said it was six cents, but I heard that it…”
“It’s been a year. Why didn’t you call?” Reynold asked, putting his hand over hers. “Are you okay?”
“I couldn’t afford it,” Lily said. “You know how much bread that costs?”
“You could have reversed…” Reynold started to say.
“Forget all that,” Zinnia said. “Where were you?”
“In Houston,” Lily said. “I should have known you didn’t get the postcards. When you didn’t write back, I figured that you were still pissed about the way I left, you know? I was being stupid.”
“Forget that,” Zinnia said. “You’re okay?”
“I’m fine,” Lily said. She gave them a radiant smile and she really looked okay. Reynold had never doubted that his daughter was alive and well somewhere. He had felt it in his heart. Zinnia had said so, too. But she looked so good—so healthy, and happy—she looked better than she had before she had left. It made him wonder if their house had been so toxic that it took moving away to make her really blossom.
“You look terrific,” Zinnia said, mirroring what Reynold was thinking. “I’m so glad you’re here. Please tell us you’re going to stay.”
“I’m back,” Lily said, smiling. “For as long as I’m welcome.”
“Don’t be silly. You’re always welcome,” Reynold said.
“And you’re back,” Lily said, turning her smile to Eric. “You look pretty good, too. How long have you been in town?”
“I came back the day you left,” Eric said, blushing from the attention. “I saw your yellow car peeling out as I walked up the street.”
“You never told us that,” Zinnia said.
Reynold wondered if that was true. They had eventually realized that their daughter was gone, and Reynold seemed to remember asking Eric about what he might have seen. When he had eventually gone back to the police station, they had brushed him off pretty quickly.
“Young women leave home, sir,” Captain Williams had said.
“Without a note or a phone call?” Reynold had asked.
“Did you have a fight? Perhaps you or your wife said something that…”
“It’s not like that,” Reynold had said. “We had a perfectly good relationship with our daughter. She was taking a break from school to work for a year to save money for college.”
“The job she was fired from the same day she left?” Captain Williams had asked.
“Yes. I don’t think that… It’s probably not connected,” Reynold had said. Then, the conversation had turned to a discussion of Eric. The cops, back then, had seemed somewhat obsessed with Eric’s return. They had hassled the kid for a solid month, at least until he cut his hair, put on some weight, and got some decent clothes to wear.
Reynold had hassled the cops until the postcard came, and then he had taken it to the station triumphantly. It was proof that something had happened. The handwriting was all wrong and the name was misspelled. But, to the cops, the postcard was the only proof they needed that no investigation was warranted.
It killed Reynold to think that they might have been right.
“Wait, so you did write this?” Reynold asked, taking the postcard from her hand.
“Yeah. That one and about a dozen more after. I wrote at least once a month. It kills me that you didn’t get them,” Lily said.
“But your name isn’t spelled…”
“I toyed around with changing my name to L-I-L-L-Y, just to be different,” Lily said. “I went back to the old way after I discovered that I had to say ‘Two Ls’ all the time. It was a pain in the ass. Sorry.”
“Don’t apologize,” Zinnia said. “Your name is your choice.”
“No, I meant sorry for saying ass.”
“Oh,” Zinnia said, waving a hand and laughing.
There was a time when Zinnia would have had a problem with her daughter using that kind of language. Reynold was glad to hear that the time had passed.
“I’m just so glad that we’re all back…” Zinnia began to say. When her eyes caught Reynold’s it felt like they both had the realization at the exact same time.
“Wendell,” Reynold said.
“Yes,” Zinnia said, pushing her chair back from the table. “Come on—we have to find your brother.”
# # #
They drove slowly, with their faces nearly pressed against the glass.
Reynold felt a tornado brewing inside of him. Looking through the window, scanning the neighborhood for any sign of his son’s strange gait, he felt cold and empty. Then, every time he glanced to his right and saw his daughter, a warm wind blew through him. The clashing fronts were bringing on a storm.
“How about his school?” Lily asked. “Does he still hate it?”
“No,” Reynold said, putting on his blinker, “he has adjusted pretty well.”
“Would he head over there?”
“I’ve never seen him walk that far, but it’s worth a shot,” Reynold said.
Jessie and Eric had gone out on foot. Zinnia was headed north in case Wendell was over near the old quarry. Reynold took the green bridge and then an immediate right. There was a park where the footbridge ended. Wendell didn’t enjoy parks, generally, but there might be other kids there. One of them might have spotted Wendell.
They were in luck. They saw a group of kids huddled near the rocks.
“Let me out,” Lily said.
“Yeah, okay,” Reynold said, understanding her idea without her having to say it. Those kids were probably sharing a joint or passing a flask. Reynold would scatter them. A pretty girl, just barely too old for them, might be able to approach. He took a left and parked on the hill to watch his daughter in the mirror. There was just enough daylight left to see her. She worked her way into the circle of boys and had a quick conversation.
With Lily at the edge of where he could see, Reynold felt a dagger of fresh fear drive into his chest. She could slip away so easily. Now that they had her back, he never wanted to let her out of his sight again. The idea was impossible and irrational. The whole point of having kids was to raise them well enough that they could be launched into the world and stand on their own.
Reynold grunted out something between a laugh and pure disgust.
When he was a kid, his parents didn’t seem at all concerned about nurturing him into a man so he could stand tall and strong. His mother kept him in line mostly through sighing and complaining to the ceiling about what he was doing wrong, and his father vacillated between demanding he pull his weight and welcoming the day that Reynold would finally leave the nest. They, like the other parents that Reynold saw around him, seemed unconcerned about the health and welfare of their offspring. In return, he couldn’t remember a single runaway or troubled kid. From Reynold’s perspective, his generation had been disregarded to raise themselves and they had turned out just fine—maybe better than fine.
Lily jogged across the street and opened the door, flopping into the seat.
“I’m so glad you’re back,” Reynold said, touching her arm.
She laughed at him. “Don’t you want to know what they said?”
“Of course.”
“They saw a kid who might be him over at the gazebo.”
Reynold tried to picture it as he pulled away from the curb.
“There are plenty of lights there. He’s not exactly afraid of the dark, but it wouldn’t surprise me that he would be drawn to the lights.”
“Let’s try the grocery store as well,” she said.
“Good idea.”
Reynold took a left on the next street.
“Can I ask you something?”
“Sure, Dad, what?”
“How come you left?”
She answered with a long sigh.
“That’s complicated, I guess.”
“Was it us? Was it your ex-boyfriend?”
“Brett?” she asked, sounding surprised. “No, he was a jerk, but we had been through for months. I never even saw him.”
“That’s what I thought, but I also thought maybe he said something to you, or threatened you.”
“No. He was a major jerk, but I wasn’t afraid of him.”
Reynold stayed quiet, hoping that she would return to the original question on her own. He took a right on the main drag and slowed down as they passed a couple with a group of kids. Part of him thought that it was possible that Wendell had already latched onto a new family.
“So?” Reynold asked.
“Well… I mean, I had just lost my job and it seemed like I wasn’t going anywhere. I’m really sorry that I left without saying goodbye or anything. It felt like if I stuck around that you and Mom would be so reasonable and rational that I would never go, you know?”
“Is that a bad thing? Being rational?”
“I needed a change in perspective. Honestly, it was pure impulse that started me driving south. Then, it quickly felt like momentum was just carrying me along. I felt like if I tried to turn around, I would never make it. I had to see it through. Do you know what I mean?”
He shook his head and said, “Yeah. I think so.”
“There’s a spot,” Lily said, pointing.
Reynold waited for a gap and then cut across the opposite lanes to pull into the spot. Parking was always scarce in the center of town. That evening, it seemed like everyone was out. Reynold got out of the vehicle and scanned the park from the benches over to the gazebo. Some kids were still out, trying to play catch by the glow of the streetlights. Young couples, holding hands, walked slowly down the paths. After the biting cold wind that they had endured, people were eager to enjoy every moment of the warm reprieve.
“There,” Lily said, pointing.
A solitary kid was sitting in the gazebo in a pool of light.
Lily ran ahead and Reynold followed as fast as he could. When she was still a dozen paces away, she slowed to a walk and then stopped, waiting for him.
“Not him,” she said.
Reynold wasn’t sure until he got a little closer. Maybe it was just wishful thinking, but he kept imagining that Wendell’s face would look up at him from the slumped body.
“Excuse me, son, I’m looking for my boy?” Reynold said as they approached.
The kid’s head snapped up and he tensed to run. Again, Reynold was reminded of his own childhood. A kid would have never run away from an adult back then. Kids now were as skittish as birds. They had been taught that it was perfectly acceptable to sprint in the other direction when confronted by an authority figure.
When he saw Lily, the kid stayed put. Maybe it was her kind face, or maybe the kid was reassured that there was another witness present.
“Are you okay?” Lily asked.
“Yeah. I guess.”
“We’re looking for my brother? His name is Wendell Carroll? He’s a little older than you.”
The kid’s only answer was to shake his head slowly.
“You don’t know him?”
“Nope.” The boy popped his lips at the end of the answer.
“So you haven’t seen a boy around here? He’s a little older than you? Black hair?”
“Nope.”
“Okay. Shouldn’t you get home? It’s getting dark,” Lily said.
“Nope,” the boy said.
Reynold stepped a little closer to him.
“Go home, son. Right now,” he said, using his Dad voice. The effect was immediate. The boy flew off like a dove. His feet barely touched the ground as he sprinted into the dark. Reynold was surprised by the effect of the command. He had just decided that respect was dead.
“Grocery store,” Lily asked. “It’s going to close soon. If he’s in there, they will kick him out.”
Reynold nodded.
It was close enough to walk, and it gave Lily more chances to interrogate the few children who were still out and about. When they were alone, it gave Reynold a chance to further interrogate her.
“Did you like living in Houston?”
“It was fun sometimes,” she said. “I missed everyone here, of course.”
“You don’t have to say that.”
“No, I mean it. It’s easier to meet people down there though, if I’m honest. They have bars down there where everyone dances. You can’t sit still for more than two minutes before someone else is asking you to dance. Sometimes, all the women band together to take a breather, you know? I met more new people on my first night there than I did the whole time growing up here.”
“Where did you stay? When you first got there, I mean. How did you find a place to stay?”
“Uh…” she said, looking away at something in the night sky that suddenly interested her. “It wasn’t hard. I mean, I could always sleep in the back seat of the Buick, you know?”
He knew what that meant, and doubted that she had ever had to resort to sleeping in the car.
They arrived at the supermarket before she had to expand the lie.
“You go inside and I’ll talk to them,” Lily said, pointing at a group down near the record store.
“Okay,” Reynold said. This time, the dagger of fear didn’t pierce as deep.
# # #
“Hold on,” the woman behind the service counter said. “We’re about to close, but let me get the manager.”
She disappeared for a minute and Reynold took the opportunity to apologize to the woman who was waiting patiently behind him. When the manager came out, he led Reynold down the counter a little so they could talk without interrupting the needs of the other customers.
“I’m looking for my son, and I’m wondering if maybe you’ve seen him this evening,” Reynold said.
The manager didn’t immediately start shaking his head. That was a good sign.
“He loves to browse the magazine racks,” Reynold said, pointing. “He’s about this tall, black hair, and he’s a little skittish. He might run away if someone tries to approach him.”
“Shoplifter?”
“No. Never,” Reynold said. What did this man think? Would a father come in and describe his own son as a shoplifter? “His brother was watching him and they had a disagreement. He would have been just killing time until it was time for dinner.”
The manager looked at his watch.
“So, you haven’t seen him?”
“Name?”
“His name is Wendell Carroll.”
“Give me your number and I’ll ask around.”
Reynold took the scrap of paper and pen. He wrote his name while he explained.
“Please try back if you don’t get anyone at this number. We’re all out looking for Wendell, but someone will be home eventually.”
“Yes,” the manager said. “Best of luck, sir.”
Reynold didn’t like the way that sounded. It felt like the manager was viewing the situation as so hopeless that only a stroke of pure luck could possibly help. He turned to storm away, but the woman who had been in line behind him stopped him.
“Your son is missing?” she asked.
When he nodded, she asked, “How old?”
“Twelve.”
“Oh,” she said with relief. “He’ll be fine.”
Reynold thanked her and tried to move past again. She stopped him once more.
“Although, that boy who drowned at Prayer Rock was that sam
e age, wasn’t he?”
“Fourteen, I think.”
“After that, they put up that line above the spillway. Could he be caught up in that?” she asked. There was concern on the surface of her face, but something else, a little under the surface. Reynold thought he could guess what type of person she was. She was one of those people who pretended great sympathy, but were actually fascinated by any tragedy that might befall someone else.
“Thanks. I’ll check,” he said.
This time, when she put out her hand to stop him, he pulled and spun away from her. He took his own small pleasure when she lost her balance and nearly fell.
Back out in the parking lot, Lily was talking to a family who seemed familiar.
“Dad, this is Fiona. Her son Greg is in Wendell’s class.”
“Have you seen him?”
“No,” Fiona said. “And we were at the footbridge park until dark. If he had crossed there, we would have seen him.”
“Good to know. Will you call if you do spot him?”
“Of course. We have your number on the phone tree.”
“Thank you,” Reynold said. He put his hand on his daughter’s shoulder and leaned close as he led her away. “We have to make a stop at Prayer Rock.”
He didn’t know if the fear on her face was her own, or just a reaction to his.
ZINNIA
ZINNIA FROWNED AS SHE goosed the accelerator and shot through a gap in the traffic. Even on weekends, the Lewiston Road drew a lot of cars. They were talking about putting in a bypass, so people could avoid the center of town. That would push even more cars to the Lewiston Road, but that wasn’t why she was upset. She was frowning at the very idea that Wendell might have crossed the road. Upon interrogation, Jessie had finally admitted that Wendell may have followed him north.
All their lives, she had set a hard boundary for their wanderings.
She had grown up north of the Lewiston Road, and she knew the dangers.
When she was younger than Wendell, a young man had drowned at one of the little quarry ponds up there. They were tucked into the woods and a person could stumble on a flooded pit just by pushing through branches on a hike. That’s what happened to Tyler Cunningham, as far as anyone knew. Zinnia and her sister Rose had been the ones who found him.
