Curby

by Adrian Del Valle

  “How’s our little munchkin doing?” Jaime took the boy by the hand and walked him inside. She loved showing him off.

  Three months later

  Sunday, Jaime’s only day off, started like any other Sunday; wake up early, sip coffee by the front widow, feed Mutt and Jeff the two gold fish, Scruffy the cat and make breakfast. The laundry, she washed and folded days ago, the apartment, vacuumed after work the day before.

  She tended to a snake plant and a potted rose bush by watering them and breaking off the dead leaves. Clipping off two roses, she placed them in a wine glass which she set on the kitchen table.

  With nothing left to do she went outside to sit on the stoop. There, the October sun flushed clear and radiantly. Golden leaves fluttered down beneath maples and elms; tall and enclosing the street below in their shadows. Squirrels chased across the boughs and branches amidst the chirping of energetic sparrows.

  Twenty minutes later, the front door clicked behind her.

  “Hi, Jaime.” Curby ran up and wrapped his arms around her.

  Jaime said, “Are you going to give me a big kiss?”

  The boy kissed her on the cheek. “Daddy’s taking me to the park.”

  “How nice. You’re so lucky.”

  “Bye!” he said.

  She exchanged greetings with Nick and watched them step down to the sidewalk. Nick unfolded a blue stroller which Curby pushed ahead of himself. The boy looked over his shoulder and waved. “Bye, Jaime.”

  “Bye.”

  She waved back and waited for them to reach the end of the block. As soon as they turned the corner, she went inside, sat by the window and stared out into the street. Scruffy jumped onto her lap. She ran her fingers through his grey fur with thoughts of Nick and Curby--happy thoughts of the three of them together, thoughts she knew she shouldn’t entertain.

  Thursday

  The last thing Olga wanted to do was to smoke another cigarette. She tried hard to hold off, but the feelings were too intense.

  “Curby, are you sleepy? It’s time to lay down, honey.”

  “I have to empty the truck first.”

  The blue, plastic dump truck, filled with a broken pencil, an eraser, two pennies and torn bits of paper was backed up and ready to be dumped. He tilted it and let everything fall to the floor. “There, it’s empty.”

  “So, are you ready, now?”

  “I have to load it up again.”

  “Okay, one more time and that’s it.”

  Curby loaded everything in, pushed the truck toward a corner of the room and after a few tries, backed it up to the wall.

  Lifted onto his bed, Olga tucked him in, put his baseball glove alongside and kissed him.

  “Close your eyes,” she said, backing out of the room.

  Curby immediately shut them, squinted them open, then shut them again.

  “No peeking.”

  She left the door slightly ajar and sat on the couch with a pack of cigarettes nestled in her hand. For a while she just sat there, thinking of the rest of the day and what she planned to do when she got home to her own apartment later on that day. The pack of cigarettes, she returned to the bag. She thought about Curby and what needed to be done here; did everything she could to not think about cigarettes anymore.

  Sunday morning rolled around again. Jaime sat on the stoop with Scruffy and a cup of coffee. She checked her watch with anticipation for the fifth time; 7:45, turning to look behind her and at the door she knew would soon be opening.

  It’s such a beautiful day. I’m sure they’ll be going to the park.

  She turned around to look, yet, again, sipped from the cup and readjusted her hold on Scruffy.

  Finally, the front door opened.

  Curby immediately sat alongside to pet the cat.

  “We’re going to the park,” he blurted out.

  “I know. What are you going to do there?”

  “Feed the ducks. We got crumbs.”

  “That should be fun. Do you like ducks?”

  “Ducks go quack, quack.”

  “That’s right, they do. What do cats do?”

  “Me-ow-w!”

  Nick said, “Nice day out today.”

  “Yes, it is.” She replied.

  “The last time we went to the park we got hungry. I hate buying junk there, so this time we planned on a picnic. There’s a nice spot by the lake. Really pretty.”

  “Oh…” She started, unable to think of anything to say.

  “And lots of ducks, right, Daddy?”

  Nick looked down and smiled. “All kinds of ducks. He likes the mallards.”

  “Oh…yes, me, too. They’re so colorful,” she said.

  Nick asked. “What are you going to be doing today?”

  “Me? Um…well, just cleaning around a bit, vacuuming and that sort of thing.”

  “So you’ll be busy, then?”

  “Well…no, not…not really.”

  “We cleaned the place up yesterday. Curby helped. He picked up all of his toys. Didn’t you buddy?”

  “Yeah, I helped.” the boy replied, softly patting the top of the cat’s head.

  “Come on kiddo, we better get down there before the ducks fly away.”

  Curby stood up and waved his fingers. “Bye Scruffy. Bye Jaime,”

  Jaime returned his wave and smiled. “Have fun with daddy.”

  Carrying the stroller, Nick grabbed Curby’s hand and descended the steps. Halfway past the next building, he turned around.

  “Why don’t you come with us? I made plenty of sandwiches.”

  Jaime’s eyes widened. “Can I? Are you sure you have enough?”

  “As long as you like peanut butter and jelly?”

  “I love peanut butter and jelly. Give me a second. I’ll be right out.”

  The walk across Long Meadow, a 90 acre grassy expanse of gradual hills within Prospect Park’s 585 acres, left Curby a little tuckered. He sat on a bench between Nick and Jaime. Across the open field and the morning mist that lie there, people rode bicycles, played catch and walked dogs. Curby held Jaime’s hand while kicking his legs under the bench.

  The stone in-laid path to the lake wound through one of the last of the city’s remaining natural woodlands. Oaks of many varieties spread enclosing canopies on both sides of the path. Arrow-wood, elderberry and sweet pepper shrubs were interspersed with white shake root and daisy like heartleaf aster.

  Rather than ride in the stroller, Curby skipped, hopped and jumped all the way to the lake. He couldn’t have been happier. There, he threw in handfuls of crumbs, chased after by small fish fry as well as by the ducks. He returned to the blanket, spread across fresh cut grass.

  “Any more crumbs, Daddy?”

  “This is the last of it, buddy.”

  The boy eagerly took the handful to the water’s edge.

  “He’s such a joy, Nick.”

  “Yes, and I’m worried.”

  “About Olga?”

  “No, about what will happen when I try to enroll him in school. What if they ask me for some kind of paper work? That’s only a few years away.”

  “Oh, my gosh. That never crossed my mind.”

  “Unless I get married which doesn’t seem very likely, I’m afraid the city will only take him away.”

  “Yes, I see what you mean. You’re a single working father who can’t prove his son is his.”

  (Pause)

  “Not that I’m thinking of getting married,” he assured.

  “No…of course not.”

  (Another pause)

  “Well, I…” he started.

  “I guess we…” she began.

  “I’m sorry, what were you going to say?” he asked.

  “No, I was only going to say…maybe we could take Curby over to the carousel.”

  “Yes, that’s a great idea.”

  Too young to go on by himself, Curby led Nick to a grey horse, legs high and in mid-stride. Gaily painted, the pink saddle was trimmed in gold and blac
k. A gold mane and tail flowed in the wind, the horses head, low and turned to the side.

  Curby held on to the gold, rope shaped guide pole with Nick standing next to him.

  “I’m ready…giddyap,” the boy yelled out.

  Alongside, Jaime sat on her own horse, looked over and smiled.

  The carousel began to move, gently at first, then faster. It was thrilling for Curby, the herd ahead spinning in a delirious circle. Kids screamed while the world outside spun around and around in a colorful blur.

  After the two additional rides that followed, Curby walked shakily off the platform. Nick put him into the stroller and by the time they reached Long Meadow, he was fast asleep.

  Jaime said, “If you go to the park next Sunday, would you mind if I tagged along. I enjoyed the afternoon so much.”

  “Curby would like that.”

  From time to time their shoulders bumped during the walk across the field and wasn’t intentional. Silent for a while, Nick finally said. “I guess I’ll make dinner when I get back. I took some chicken out of the freezer last night. It should be defrosted by now.”

  “How do you make it?”

  “I’ve been frying it. Sandy was the cook. I’m afraid I’m not very good at those kinds of things.”

  “Let me cook it for you. I’m a great cook, if I do say so myself.”

  “You don’t mind?”

  “I’d love to. I’ll bring up some spices. What would you like with that?”

  “Mashed potatoes?”

  “That’s too easy. Gravy?”

  “Okay. I have wine.”

  “Merlot?”

  “I’ll look,” he said. “I’m sure I do.”

  The chicken was delicious. Nick washed the dishes and Jaime dried them. Afterwards, they went outside, wine glasses in hand and sat on the stoop. Curby carried warmed milk in a plastic glass decorated with cartoon characters.

  Around eight o’clock, Jaime put Curby to bed. She tucked the blanket in at the sides, leaned over and kissed the boy on the cheek.

  “Are you going to be my mommy someday?”

  “Oh, Curby.”

  Taken aback, she ran her fingers through the boy’s hair. “Would you like it if I was?”

  “Not Olga,” he affirmatively stated, shaking his head.

  “Why? She’s nice.”

  Curby wrinkled his nose.

  She gently pinched it. “Goodnight,” she said.

  “Goodnight.”

  In the hall, at the top of the stairs, Nick said, “Thanks for everything. I think you made Curby’s day.”

  “He made mine. I had a good time. I’m looking forward to next Sunday.”

  Nick put his arms around her. “Thanks for everything.”

  Jaime’s head leaned back, her eyes shifting all over the place. “Goodnight,” she said, a slight quiver in her voice.

  “See you during the week,” he said.

  CHAPTER THREE

  A child lost

  At 11:30, Nick parked the street sweeper in front of his building. He went up and sat at the table with Curby for a lunch of macaroni--Russian style.

  2 cups

  Cottage cheese

  1 ½

  cups Sour cream

  1 cup

  Grated cheddar

  1 cup

  Thinly sliced red cabbage

  2 cups

  Cabbage

  2 tsps

  Tamari sauce

  tsp

  Caraway seeds

  3 tbsp

  Butter

  1 tbsp

  Chopped scallion

  1/2 lb

  Sliced mushrooms

  1

  Chopped carrot

  2 cups

  Macaroni

  As Olga filled their plates, Nick held back from grimacing. Raised on red tomato sauce cooked over a stove for hours and the best ricotta cheese, he remained expressionless as he eyed the chopped carrots, cabbage and caraway seeds mixed in with the pasta. As soon as she turned her back to them, Nick gaped silently down at Curby with glaring eyeballs and his mouth stretched wide open as if he was just frightened by a horror movie. He shook his head vigorously, his arms flailing about at his sides.

  Curby giggled.

  Despite the alien smell of it, Nick gave it his best try. Surprisingly, he liked it.

  After he left for work, Olga tended to the usual, tidying up the apartment and getting Curby to put his toys away. Her last cigarette was hours ago and she craved another. It wasn’t time for the boy’s nap, so she put the TV on and settled in with his favorite cartoon.

  As soon as she was able to put Curby to bed, she dug into her bag for the cigarette pack.

  Empty!

  Desperate, she battled with herself over whether or not she should take a quick walk to the store or wait until Curby woke up. She chose the former. She double checked that he was asleep. The apartment door, she left opened in case of an emergency and ran down the steps. At the store, there was a line so she used the time to pick up some of the things she needed besides cigarettes at the back of the store.

  (Speaking Russian)

  “Olga, how is the new job working?”

  “Raisa,” what are you doing here?”

  “My client moved.”

  “Too bad.”

  “No, it’s good. That kid was such a handful. Besides, it gave me a chance to go back to the old country for a visit.”

  “I’m sorry to hear that. I mean about the boy you were watching. My little Curby is such an angel. What are you going to do, now?”

  “I will find another one. If you hear of anything, Olga, let me know. So, let me tell you about my trip. The flight was delayed and we were diverted to Krakow…”

  The bedroom window, left opened halfway, allowed the afternoon breezes to gently flow across the room. A stronger gust lifted blue cotton curtains into L’s, flipped the pages of a magazine and blew it off the edge of the bureau and onto the floor.

  Lying in bed, Curby opened his baby blues, blinked and took a deep breath. Alert and well rested, he dropped to the floor and walked into the kitchen. He searched everywhere, but Olga was nowhere around.

  Still wearing shorts and a T-shirt, he sat on the floor and put on sneakers, the left one on his right foot and the right on his left. He gingerly stepped down the hallway stairs, the shoelaces untied and trailing behind. The glass knob to the inside door seemed high and almost out of reach. He stretched tall, turned the knob and opened it. He exited the outside door and stood in the middle of the top landing. Looking up and down the street, he saw no sign of Olga. He made a decision to go right, and at the next corner, crossed the blacktop of the avenue to the other side.

  Cars swished by behind him. None stopped, leaving him to continue unchallenged deep into the next block. He turned the next corner where he stopped to play with a child slightly older than him. When the boy went inside to use the bathroom, Curby pressed on with his new adventure, crossed another street and followed a lady walking her dog.

  “Where did you come from?” the lady asked.

  “Way down there,” Curby answered.

  The lady, an elderly woman, asked, “Where, down there?”

  Curby scanned the last intersection he had crossed and down the opposite block with none of it appearing familiar. Since he had been looking in this direction when he first arrived, everything that was behind him at the time now seemed completely different.

  “I don’t know.”

  “Oh, dear!” Let’s get you inside. I’m calling the police.

  Inside the grocery store, Olga abruptly ended the conversation. “Oh, my goodness, I have to go.”

  At the counter, she added a pack of cigarettes to the rest of the items in the shopping cart, quickly paid for them and headed for the door.

  “Why such a rush?” Raisa asked.

  Without stopping, Olga pushed the front door open and on the way out, loudly called back, “I’ll talk to you when I get a chance.”

/>   “But, Olga…”

  She half walked, half ran to the apartment, raced into the bedroom and was stunned upon seeing the single bed empty. Frantic, she looked in the closets, under the bed and any hiding place she could think of.

  “No, this cannot be happening.”

  After the hall was checked she began knocking on doors. She inquired about Curby, but no one had seen him. Next, she thoroughly searched the basement. By now, sure he was nowhere in the building, she ran outside and looked up and down the street. She desperately pounded on doors. Some of those that opened to her had tenants looking back with concern, while others slammed them closed without saying anything.

  At 2:40, Nick came home to Olga sitting on the stoop with her head in her hands.

  “What’s wrong?” he asked.

  In tears, she choked on the words. “Curby’s gone.”

  Nick straightened erect. “What?”

  “I can’t find him.”

  “You can’t find Curby?”

  At the sound of his loud voice, Olga shook with fear.

  “I was washing dishes, thinking that he was inside sleeping and the next thing I knew he was gone. I don’t know how this could have happened.”

  Nick ran up the stoop and raced throughout the apartment, looking in every possible place his little boy could squeeze into. He searched the building like a mad man, ran out into the street and around the block.

  On his return, he got into his car and drove around the neighborhood. Back at the building, he double checked the halls and talked to some of the neighbors. The roof as well as the basement and courtyard were also searched before he finally resolved to go to the local police station.

  68th Precinct

  A sergeant behind the front desk looked up from his paperwork. “May I help you?”