As I brushed, my thoughts returned to Jake. I was almost hoping he was with his father. At least then he’d be safe, not hungry or scared. But it was still hard to imagine Mr. Kuhn abducting his own son. It was hard to imagine any father doing that — but I guess it does happen.
I headed downstairs for breakfast, deep in thought. Karen and Andrew were seated at the kitchen table, eating cereal. Emily Michelle was in her high chair, banging on her tray with a spoon. David Michael was hovering around Watson, who was cooking a pan full of sausages and eggs. I didn’t see Charlie, but I knew he was probably still sleeping. He actually sleeps until noon some Saturdays! Sam was standing by the fridge, drinking milk right out of the carton. Luckily for him my mom wasn’t in the room. She hates when he does that.
“Where’s Mom?” I asked.
“She’s outside checking on her daffodils,” said Watson. “She was going to cut a bouquet to take to Caroline Kuhn.”
I sat at the table and absentmindedly poured myself a bowl of cereal. As I ate, I thought some more about how it would feel to be kidnapped by your own father. What if my father had tried something like that?
I heard the screen door close, and looked up to see my mother walk into the kitchen with a huge bunch of daffodils in her hand. “Mrs. Kuhn’s going to like those,” I said.
“Think so?” my mother asked. “I know it’s silly to think that flowers are going to help her feel any better about everything, but —”
“It’s nice of you to think of her,” said Watson. “Now, how about some eggs?”
My mother sat at the table with me and the other kids.
“Mom?” I said. “Do you know exactly where my father is right now? I mean, besides California?”
You might think that’s a pretty weird question for a daughter to ask — and I guess it is. But I’m used to the fact that my father has almost nothing to do with me. It’s only when I start to think about it that the situation seems strange.
“Well,” she said. “I think David Michael got a birthday card this year from Petaluma.”
“What does he do out there?” I asked. “Does he have other kids? Why doesn’t he write to us?”
All of a sudden I was curious about everything.
My mother gave a little laugh. “Well, let’s see. Something with horses. Not that I know of; I doubt it. And, I don’t know. There are all your answers, in order.”
I thought about that for a moment. “Why do you doubt that he has other kids?” I asked.
“Well, because he wasn’t very interested in being a family man,” said my mother. “He hated the responsibilities that went with being a father.”
“But did he love us?” I asked.
“Of course he did,” she said. “How could anybody resist you?”
“I guess he never wanted custody of us,” I said. “Did he ever even ask for, like, visitation rights?”
My mother shook her head. “I think it would have been hard for him to face you,” she said. “After the way he left. It was so sudden, and so final. He just wanted out.”
I tried to imagine the scene. “Do you think he ever thinks about us now?” I asked.
“Well, he does send you birthday cards,” said my mother.
“Right,” I said. “Like every third year, when he happens to remember.”
“I’m sure he thinks about you,” said my mother. “And I’m sure he’d be proud to see how you’ve all grown up.”
“Especially me!” said David Michael, who had been listening intently. “I was only a little baby when he went away.”
“That’s right,” said my mom.
David Michael was quiet for a moment. He looked kind of worried. “Do you think he might kidnap me, just so he could see what I’m like now?” he asked.
My mom knows that you should always respect children’s fears, so she didn’t laugh. “No, I don’t think he would,” she said seriously. “He lives very far away, and he has another life now.”
“What if somebody else tries to kidnap me?” asked David Michael. Apparently he’d been worrying about this.
“Yeah,” said Karen, who has a very active imagination. “What if some mean guys grab us and take us away in their car?”
Andrew’s eyes grew big and round. Then he started to cry.
“Whoa,” said Watson. “It sounds as if you’re all feeling a little scared because Jake is missing. Why don’t we talk about it?”
“Good idea,” said my mom. “First of all, does everybody know the rules about how to act when you’re on your own, without an adult?”
Karen raised her hand as if she were in school. “Don’t talk to strangers,” she said.
“Good,” my mother said. “Except that, if you’re in trouble, there are certain strangers that it’s probably a good idea to talk to. Like police officers, or crossing guards. What else?”
“Always check with you or Daddy before we go anywhere, even if we’re going with another grown-up,” said Karen.
“Right,” said Watson.
I couldn’t help thinking that if Jake’s dad had taken him, that rule would have saved everybody a whole lot of worry. Jake would have insisted on telling his mom where he was going.
“But what if somebody just grabs you?” asked Karen.
“If that happens,” said my mother, “what you can do is make a big fuss. Yell and scream. Shout out that the person is not your mother or father. Don’t be polite!”
“I can’t believe you’re telling us not to be polite,” said Karen, grinning.
“Well, if you want to be safe, you can’t always be polite,” I said. I’ve read a lot about how children can be more safety-conscious. I figure that knowing that stuff is part of being a good baby-sitter. “I mean, it’s polite to do what adults tell you to do, and to smile and answer their questions, but if the adults are complete strangers, you don’t have to listen to them.”
“Right,” said my mom. “The thing to do is just be alert, and think about taking care of yourself. If a car pulls up and somebody asks you directions, you can give them, but stay a safe distance away from the car. Just be sensible, that’s all.”
“Also,” said Watson, “it’s a good idea to know where safe places are. If you’re feeling scared, you might not be close to home. But you can go into a store, or the post office, or the police station, or the library. You can talk to the adults there about your fears.”
Karen, Andrew, and David Michael all looked pretty solemn. They had been listening and paying attention to everything we said. A knock at the front door broke the tension, and Karen ran to answer it.
“It’s Bart, Kristy,” she called. “I can see him through the window.”
“If it’s Bart, I guess it’s safe to open the door,” I said, smiling.
Bart came in and sat at the table for a few minutes, talking with my mom and Watson. Then he and I and all the kids except Emily Michelle set out for the elementary school. Everyone who had searched the day before had agreed to come back and try again.
Karen and Andrew stuck near me and Bart as we broke the searchers into groups. Matt and Haley Braddock joined me again, too. Matt, Haley told us, had remembered some other “favorite places” of Jake’s — places where he went when he wanted to think. As soon as we were ready, we headed for the first one, which was in the woods behind the school.
“Matt says there’s a little clearing back here,” said Haley. We were following Matt as he walked down a path through the woods. “He says Jake took him there once and made him promise never to show anyone else. But now he thinks he better break his promise.”
I nodded. “Finding Jake is the most important thing right now,” I said. “I’m sure he wouldn’t be mad at Matt for bringing us there.” As I walked, I kept stumbling over roots and getting stung by branches that hung over the path. I held one of them up so that Karen, Andrew, and David Michael could walk under it. Then, as Bart followed them up, I made sure he’d gotten hold of it before I let it go.
> “Jake!” Bart was calling. “Jake!”
It was just like my dream. The woods were kind of pretty, with sunlight dappling the ground and green, green everywhere. It could have been a fun place for a picnic or a hike. But we weren’t there for a picnic. We were there to look for Jake. “Jake!” I called. “Jake!” My throat was still sore from calling his name for hours the day before.
Up ahead, Matt had come to a stop. “This is it,” he signed, once we had come into the little clearing. “But no Jake.”
I didn’t have to wait for Haley to interpret. I’d learned the signs for “no Jake” yesterday.
“I can see why he liked it here,” I said. “I — I mean, why he likes it.” I didn’t want to start talking about Jake as if he were gone forever. The clearing was a pretty spot. There was a dead tree lying on its side; it made a good seat. Being in the clearing almost felt like being in a little room — just the right size for one person — except that instead of being in a house, it was outdoors. It was a great place, but there was no sign of Jake. No sneaker prints, nothing.
Matt had looked discouraged when we first arrived in the clearing, but within a few minutes his spirit was back. He began to sign to Haley.
“He says there’s this clubhouse in a meadow near here. We can follow the path until we come to it. Usually some older kids use it, but once in a while Jake and Matt go there if it’s empty.”
I looked at Bart and we both nodded. “Sounds good,” I said. “Let’s go.”
We headed down the path again, single file. First Matt, then Haley. Karen and Andrew came next, with David Michael behind them. I was following David Michael, and Bart was following me. We were all calling as we walked. Once in a while I’d stop short, just to listen for a moment in case Jake himself was calling for help. But I never heard anything except our own voices.
After a while, the path led out of the woods and into a big, wide meadow. Wildflowers were blooming, and birds were swooping through the air. “Wow,” I said. “This is beautiful. I’ve never been here before.”
Bart took my hand as we walked down the path toward a tumbledown building that stood in the middle of the field. “The police have probably already checked this place,” he said to me quietly.
“I know,” I said. “But what does it hurt to check it again? The police could have missed a clue or something.”
As we walked up to the clubhouse, a high-school-age guy came out of its door. “What do you want?” he demanded. “This is private property.”
“It is not!” said Haley. “This field belongs to the town. My dad said so.”
“Yeah, but we built this place,” said another boy, who had come out behind the first one. “It’s ours. Get lost.”
“Hey, take it easy,” said Bart. “We’re not here to bug you. We’re just looking for a missing kid. Jake Kuhn. Have you seen a little boy around here?”
I was proud of Bart. Those older boys were being pretty nasty, but he didn’t get scared off.
“Jake Kuhn,” said one of the boys. “I saw his picture on TV last night. You’re friends of his?”
We nodded.
“I haven’t seen him,” the boy said. “But we can help look. How about if we check the underpass? You know, where the railroad tracks go under the road?”
I smiled at him. “I think the police have already looked there,” I said. “But if you know your way around it, that would be great. Maybe they missed something.”
“We could also check that old abandoned gas station,” said the other boy. “I remember hiding there once when I was a little kid.”
The boys loped off across the field. Bart and I grinned. “I’m glad they’re checking out those places,” I said. “I get the creeps near that underpass. And the gas station is pretty scary, too. All those old, broken-down cars.” I turned to Matt. “Where should we go next?” I asked him.
He made a quick sign.
“Jugtown,” explained Haley. “That store Matt and Jake go to all the time to buy baseball cards.”
“Good idea,” said Bart. “Maybe the owner saw Jake that afternoon.”
We walked through the field until we came out on a street near the elementary school. There’s a convenience store that Mary Anne and Claudia and I used to go to almost every day when we were little. It’s been through several different owners since then, but it still looks the same.
A bell rang as Haley pushed the door open. We crowded in behind her, and I noticed right away that the store also smelled the way it used to. I took a deep breath, remembering what it felt like to come into that store with fifty cents in my pocket. I used to feel so rich — as if I could buy anything I wanted. Of course, back then all I ever wanted was a Chunky bar or a bag of potato chips. So fifty cents was enough. Fifty cents doesn’t get me too far anymore, though. It barely pays the tax on a CD.
Suddenly I was feeling kind of grown-up.
“What can I do for you kids?” asked the man behind the counter. He seemed to lump us all together, and right away I felt pretty young again. I stepped out in front of the group and explained why we’d come. “So, we were wondering if maybe you’d seen him that day,” I finished, after I’d described Jake.
The man shook his head. “Afraid I didn’t,” he said. “I wasn’t even here on Thursday. My nephew was working. I’ll ask him about it as soon as I get a chance.” He shook his head. “It’s a pity,” he said. “I sure hope you find him soon. Jake’s a good boy. And you’re good friends, to be spending your Saturday searching for him.” He looked at the counter in front of him. “Why don’t you each take one of these?” he said, holding out a display box of miniature Reese’s cups. “On the house. It’ll help keep your energy up.”
“Thanks!” I said. “Okay, kids, one each. And say thank you.” I watched as each of the kids took a candy and thanked the man. “Thanks a lot,” I said again as I took my piece. We headed out the door.
“Nice guy,” said Bart.
“I know,” I replied. “Too bad he hadn’t seen Jake.” We ambled along the sidewalk for a while. My feet were starting to hurt, and I could tell that the younger kids were getting tired.
Suddenly, two little white dogs started to bark at us from a fenced-in yard we were passing. “Hey!” called a woman. She stood up from weeding her flower bed and walked over to the fence. “Are you looking for that missing kid?” she asked.
“Yes!” I said. “Why? Have you seen him?” I felt excited all of a sudden. Maybe we were about to find Jake! Maybe this woman had seen him!
“No,” she said. “Not for a few days. But before that, I saw him every day when he walked past here. A nice boy. My dogs love him.”
Oh, well. It was just another bump on the roller coaster, after all. I tried not to let my feelings show, even though I was really disappointed.
“Good luck,” the woman said. “Hope you find him.”
“Thanks.” Suddenly I was almost too tired to walk.
“Maybe we should call it quits for the morning,” said Bart. “We can try some more after lunch.”
I nodded, but just then Haley tugged on my sleeve. “Matt wants to check one more place,” she said. “That place where they’re building houses. He says Jake likes to get scraps of lumber and stuff there.”
I shook my head. “I think it’s a waste of time, Haley,” I said. “That place isn’t even on his way home from the softball field. It’s in the opposite direction, on the way to my house.”
Matt had seen me shake my head, and he started signing again right away.
“He really thinks we should look,” said Haley. “Just this one last place, and then he doesn’t have any more ideas.”
I shrugged. “Okay,” I said. “I’ll try anything at this point.” We turned around and headed in the opposite direction, toward the construction site. Everybody was getting tired. Karen started to whine, so I gave her a piggyback ride. Bart gave Andrew one, too.
“There it is!” said David Michael, pointing across the str
eet.
We stepped off the sidewalk and walked across the lumpy, muddy lot. Bart paused for a second to look at a tractor, but I kept on walking toward the one house that was almost done. “Jake!” I called. My voice wasn’t carrying very far anymore. “Jake!”
I stopped in front of a pile of lumber. I’d seen a scrap of cloth fluttering in the breeze. My stomach turned over. “Bart!” I yelled. “Come here — look at this.” He ran to me. I pointed at the piece of fabric. “Isn’t that the same color as the shirt Jake was wearing at our game?” I asked.
Bart nodded. “It is,” he said. “Wow.” He turned to glance at the rest of the construction site. “We’d better take a good look around.”
I called the others. “Okay, kids,” I said, when they had gathered near me. “Listen up. Everybody should be extra careful here, because this place could be dangerous. There could be nails on the ground, or open holes. But let’s walk around a little and call for Jake.”
They spread out and started to yell. I stayed where I was and listened as hard as I could. And then I heard it. A tiny, weak voice — calling for help.
“Bart!” I yelled. “Come back here!” Bart came running. “Listen,” I said, “do you hear something?”
We were quiet for a moment. Then Bart shook his head. “Nope,” he said. “Do you think you heard something?”
“I’m almost sure of it. There was a voice — just a little, weak one — and it sounded as if it was calling for help. I just couldn’t tell where it was coming from. Oh, Bart, do you think it could be Jake?”
He shrugged. “Let’s listen again,” he said. “First let’s yell his name together and then we’ll stop and listen. Maybe we’ll be able to tell where the voice is coming from.” He looked at me and crossed his fingers. “Okay, ready?” he said. “One, two, three —”
“JAKE!” we yelled. Then we stood as still as statues, hoping to hear a reply.
“I heard something!” said Bart. “Did you?”
I’d been holding my breath, and now I let it out. “I did,” I said. “And I think it came from that direction.” I pointed toward one of the half-built houses.
Kristy and the Missing Child Page 7
