by Willow Rose
Danh keeps an eye on Bao’s red shirt in the crowd, while carrying Long on his shoulders and holding the one pack of rice they have left. He fastens his eyes on the red shirt, but soon loses it, before it reappears. This happens a few times before the red shirt and Bao are suddenly completely gone.
“Where did he go?” Danh asks and slows down. There are so many people, so many shirts, and soon he spots a red one and starts to follow it, but seconds later he realizes it doesn’t belong to Bao.
Danh is close to panicking now. He tries his best to not let his sister see his panic and keeps going towards the boats, in the direction he thinks and expects Bao might have gone. Meanwhile, his eyes are searching frantically for Bao’s red shirt in the crowd.
“I can’t wait to see Mommy,” Long exclaims from his shoulders. “I bet she missed us.”
“I can’t wait either,” Danh says to comfort her.
He refuses to think about what it will be like once they get to wherever the boats will take them. Or how he will explain to Long why their mother isn’t there. He doesn’t want to think about when they will see her again, if they ever will.
There is no time to think about those things. Right now, it’s all about getting out of there, fast. The explosions and sounds of gunfire are coming closer by the minute, and it won’t be long before the entire area is surrounded and there will be no way out for them anymore.
But where are we going? Will there be anything for us there?
Danh has no idea. All he knows is, he promised his mother he would take Long away and he promised his brother he would follow him to the boats. Where the rest of their brothers are, there is no time to worry about either.
“Bao!” he hears Long exclaim. He looks up and sees that she is pointing. “Bao!” she repeats.
“Where?” Danh stands on his tippy toes to better see, and there, in the middle of a big crowd, fighting to get onboard an old fishing boat, he spots him; he sees the red shirt and soon recognizes his face.
“Bao!” he yells, but the sound of his voice is drowned by another explosion, this time closer to them.
He sets off to run towards Bao, when he suddenly feels hands on his body and he and Long are both lifted into the air.
“Long!” he yells, and tries desperately to see where she has been taken, but seconds later, he loses her as well, as he is shoved towards the bottom of a small boat, underneath a grating used to hold luggage and cargo. He lands on top of another body and there are arms and legs everywhere, kicking and hitting him before he can finally fight his way up and breathe again. He is fighting his growing panic and can’t stop looking for his family members when another child is shoved next to him. It is dark in the boat, but her laughter gives her away.
“Danh!” she says happily.
“Your majesty!” He grabs her and holds her tight in his arms. He takes in a deep breath as he feels the boat rock. His heart starts to race as he calls out Bao’s name, but receives no answer. With all the noise from the many people shoved together at the bottom of the boat, Danh realizes it is no use to yell. He’ll have to wait till they arrive at their destination to start looking for his brother.
Wherever that might be.
Chapter Thirty
April 2016
The waves are crashing loudly on the beach when we return. I have called Chloe and asked her to come over. I make coffee for all of us and we sit on the porch while telling Chloe what has happened.
“So, you’re telling me this mother never reported her daughter and grandchild missing, even though she’s been gone for six months?” she asks.
I roll my dad out to sit with us and serve him some coffee and cookies. He enjoys sitting on the porch so much it makes me feel like I should be out here more, enjoy it more. All I can think about right now is Salter and whether he had a good day at school or not. I look at my phone, but he hasn’t called. I guess he isn’t missing me as much as I am him.
“I know. I am so angry right now,” Danny says.
“And you’re telling me she left everything behind?”
“Well, her car is gone, we didn’t find her phone or credit cards or a wallet, but other than that, it seemed like everything was there. Her passport, lots of clothes, and even her daughter’s iPad.”
“She would definitely take that if she was planning on going somewhere with her kid in the back seat, right?” Chloe asks.
“Sure thing,” I say. “The mother said she believes they left town either on the night of October 22nd or during the day on Friday, October 23rd. The 22nd at night was the last time one of the neighbors saw her. She was supposed to take care of Tara the next day. Maria came to her house on the 22nd and asked her if she could look after Tara the next day, on the 23rd, when Maria had to go to work. Apparently, it was a day off from school, a teacher’s workday, so she had nowhere for Tara to go and the neighbor was out of work, and she had watched her before. She told the neighbor that she was going to Target with Tara in the morning to get her new shoes, and then she would drop Tara off at the neighbor’s afterwards, but Maria never showed up. The neighbor waited till noon, then took off. When she came home in the evening, Maria’s car still wasn’t there. She hasn’t seen her since.”
“She didn’t go to the police?” Chloe asks.
“Not the type that would,” Danny says.
“I see,” Chloe says and sips her coffee.
“I called her office on our way back,” I say, “and she never showed up for work that day either and she never has since.”
“Could the mother be right?” Chloe asks. “Could she have run away with some guy?”
Danny shrugs. “I don’t know her very well, but I do know the mother is right, Maria is flaky. I mean, if he had enough money and promised to take her away from here, I bet she would.”
“But leave her passport behind? And all her belongings, along with her daughter’s iPad?” I say. “Kids today are very attached to their iPads; let there be no doubt about that.”
“So, what are we looking at here?” Chloe asks. “Do we think something bad happened to her? To them?”
I sigh and look at Danny. He looks worried, conflicted even. I can sense how the guilt is tearing at him. I can understand why.
“All I know is, I want to find my daughter,” he says. “I need to know what happened to her. If it hadn’t been for Maria’s mother cashing my checks, I would have noticed something was wrong a long time ago. Now six months have passed and I have no idea where to start looking for her.”
I reach into my bag and pull out Tara’s iPad that Maria’s mother agreed to let us take when we went through their stuff. Reluctantly, of course, and only after a few threats to report her to the police.
I place it on the table in front of Chloe. “How about we start here?”
Part Two
Ready or Not
Chapter Thirty-One
April 2016
Nicky rushes through CVS, throwing remedies for lice treatment into her basket. There are so many to choose from, she doesn’t have time to read the labels. She simply grabs everything and walks to the counter. There’s a woman in line before her who seems to have a thousand things she needs to buy. The woman asks the cashier for something and the cashier disappears.
Nicky grumbles and looks at her phone. Five unanswered calls from her Melbourne-based client with the couch issues. Now she is calling again. Nicky can’t pick it up. Not here. She can’t tell her when she can make it back to the house to look at the fabric. Right now she has to go get her daughter from school, where she is waiting in the clinic because they found lice in her hair during a random check.
Why today of all days!
Today was supposed to be the day she devoted completely to her Melbourne client and her fabric issue. She really wants to get this couch issue out of the way. Getting the old ones removed cost her two hundred dollars that she can’t afford to lose. She wants to move on to the carpets upstairs, since she knows she can make a lot of mo
ney on that once they get to it.
But now she has to spend the day washing and combing through Paige’s hair, while washing every sheet, cover, and pillowcase in the house.
Argh!
When it is finally her turn, Nicky throws all her remedies on the counter and the woman picks them up. She moves very slowly and it annoys Nicky. After every item, she stops and checks her phone.
Come on. I’m in a hurry here.
“That’ll be one hundred twenty-six dollars and forty-five cents,” she says, and looks lazily at Nicky. Nicky doesn’t have time to complain about the price. She swipes her card through, picks up her things, and rushes groaning out of the store.
She drives to the school and finds Paige with the nurse.
“Mom, I have lice,” she says, her voice breaking.
Nicky tries to smile, while her heart is pounding with stress and adrenaline. “I know, sweetie. I got the treatment at CVS, so we’ll get rid of those little bastards. Don’t you worry.”
They drive to the house and Nicky starts treating Paige’s hair. She goes through it with the comb while Paige screams and squeals. She finds four live lice and hundreds of nits. It doesn’t matter how much she combs it, new ones just keep showing up again and again.
Meanwhile, her phone is on the counter next to them, lighting up every time the woman from Melbourne calls. She puts in the shampoo that has to stay for ten minutes, and finally Nicky calls the lady back, while Paige is allowed to go on the computer until she has to wash the shampoo out. Nicky knows she’ll have to comb her hair again afterwards to get the last—hopefully—dead ones out.
“Hello, Mrs. Robbins, yes I am aware I promised you I’d be there today, but you see…No, no, I know. I had another engagement, an emergency this morning, so I had to…I know…yes, yes of course, I’ll be there later this afternoon. Yes. No. This time I will be there. Of course. I understand you’re upset. I will be there. You have my word on this. Okay. Goodbye.”
Nicky draws in a deep sigh and sits down to close her eyes just for a second. That was a close one. She almost lost her client. She’s got to get better at this, as soon as she gets past this little thing.
“All right, Paige. Let’s wash that hair,” she yells up the stairs towards her daughter’s room.
Paige doesn’t answer.
With an annoyed moan, Nicky walks up the stairs while calling her name. She enters her room to find it empty. The computer is still on, Minecraft is on the screen, but there’s no sign of Paige.
“Paige? Sweetie?”
She sees light coming out from her closet and opens the door. In there on the floor sits Paige, her hair still wet from the shampoo, her iPad in her lap. She has taken her shirt off and is wearing only her training bra.
“What are you doing?” Nicky asks.
Paige looks at her and blushes. She turns her iPad to face downwards. “Nothing, Mommy. Just playing.”
“Why did you take your shirt off?”
“I was hot. Can’t we wash that stuff out of my hair now? It feels really gross.”
Nicky grabs the iPad and looks at the screen where Skype is open, but no one is there. Nicky shakes her head. She doesn’t have time for this.
“Well, come on then. We need to get you showered and then Mr. Lee will be here to look after you till I get back from my client.”
“Oh, no, Mommy. You know I hate math.”
“I do and that’s why you need a tutor, now come on, I’m in a hurry here.”
Chapter Thirty-Two
April 2016
He got her to take off her shirt for him. Boxer can’t believe his luck. Calling her on Skype and telling her his camera didn’t work was genius. He has never tried doing this before, but it won’t be the last time.
Brilliant. Absolutely brilliant, he thinks to himself, as he goes through the pictures he took of her while talking to her, asking her gently and nicely if he could see her without a shirt. He didn’t think the girl would go for it, but she did. Especially after he told her how beautiful she was and that he really liked her.
The pictures don’t do anything for him. Boxer isn’t into that stuff, but his client is. He hopes Dr. Seuss will be especially excited to see these.
Boxer downloads the pictures to his computer, and then sends them. He gets up from his chair, feeling triumphant. If all goes well, he’ll be able to make a load of money on this beauty. And her mother. Cause that’s what his client likes, the girl and her mother. What Dr. Seuss does with them after he delivers them to him is none of Boxer’s business. As long as he gets his money.
Does he sometimes feel bad? Does he have nightmares about the girls he takes? Yes, of course he does. He would be a monster if he didn’t.
Boxer walks to the hallway and puts on his shoes and jacket. He is wearing a tie today. She loves it when he wears a tie.
While thinking about his brother, he walks to his car and drives out of town. His brother never came home last night, and Boxer is worried what kind of trouble he has gotten himself into this time.
Boxer parks the car in front of the hospice in Titusville and greets the lady behind the front desk. She recognizes him and waves.
“She’s in her room,” she yells after him.
“Got it,” he yells back and storms to the door. He corrects his tie and hopes he doesn’t have too many sweat marks on his white shirt, before he knocks.
“Come in,” the thin small voice behind the door says.
Boxer pokes his head in. “It’s me.”
She gesticulates with her arms. “Oh, my sweet boy. Come closer so I can take a good look at you.”
Boxer walks up to her wheelchair and grabs her hand. “How are you, Mom?” he asks.
“You know how I am,” she says.
“I do. But is there any news? How’s your blood pressure?”
“Son. I am dying from cancer and you worry about my blood pressure?”
“No. I mean…yes, I do. Last time I was here the doctor said it was too high, remember?”
“You know what I like, son? I like to sit here and watch those cars drive by. At a certain point, you get to recognize some of them. Every day they go in the morning and then come back in the afternoon. Every day. Back and forth. Always in a rush.”
“That’s nice, Mom. That’s very nice.”
“How’s the job coming? They make you manager yet?” she asks.
“The job’s great, Mom. It’s really great.”
“Good, my boy. You make me proud.”
They sit quietly and look out the window for a few minutes, when the door is opened and the manager of the hospice pokes his head in.
“Could I have a little chat with you?”
They walk outside. The manager clears his throat. “Sir, I hate to bother you with this, but we haven’t received your payment for the last two months.”
Boxer pretends to be surprised. “Really? Well, my bank was supposed to have sent the checks automatically,” he lies. “I’ll have to check with them. I’ll have the money for you shortly. Don’t worry.”
The manager eases up. He smiles and rubs his hands. “Oh, good. It’s always a delicate matter when someone…I mean we wouldn’t like to have to…”
“Oh, I understand. Of course you need your payment. I’ll have it to you as soon as possible.”
Chapter Thirty-Three
April 2016
I call Salter when the two others have left. I have been waiting for him to call me, but since he hasn’t done it, I finally break down and call him. I can’t believe how long he can go without talking to me. As I wait for him to pick up, I debate with myself whether to tell him how angry or maybe disappointed I am or to pretend I haven’t noticed that he didn’t call me.
Oh, my God! When did it become this complicated?
“Hi, Mom,” he says when he finally picks up.
“Well, hello there. Good to know that you’re still alive,” I say, trying to sound like I am joking.
“You sound
mad. Are you mad?”
Kids. They see straight through you.
“No. No. Not at all. Just been missing you, that’s all. How was school today?” I ask, trying hard to sound casual, as if I haven’t been obsessing about him every second of this entire day.
“Oh, I didn’t go to school today,” he says.
“What?” Okay, now I am sounding angry. But rightfully so. I try to calm myself down. Maybe there is an explanation. “Are you sick?”
“No. No. But Dad and Jackie took me standup paddling instead.”
Stand up paddling?
“What?”
“Calm down, Mom. It was just one day. It’s not that big of a deal.”
“Wasn’t it today you had the FSA test?” I ask.
“Crap. You’re right. I forgot about that.”
“You forgot?”
“Yes, I forgot, all right? Sometimes people forget. They can’t all be perfect and remember everything like you.”
“That is the lamest argument I have ever heard,” I say. “Pass me to your dad, please.”
“No.”
“What do you mean no?”
“No. You’re just going to yell at him and blame it on Jackie, and then he’s going to be all sad afterwards. He’s trying his best here. He’s never taken me out paddle boarding before, and I really enjoyed it.”
I want to scream, but I can’t. I am in too much shock. When did my son become this teenager?
“I need to speak to your dad, please. Put him on,” I say.
“No. You can call his own phone,” Salter says.
“Salter!”
“I’m leaving now. Goodbye,” he says, then hangs up.
I stare at my phone. What the heck was that?
“Pick your battles, my dear.”
I turn my head and look at my dad, who is sitting in his wheelchair watching TV in the living room.
