by Erin Wright
After a hurried breakfast of burnt toast and lotsa coffee, he made it to school with three minutes to spare.
Ain’t bad. Ain’t bad at all.
He kept his eyes peeled for Brooksy or Hannah, hopin’ just to see one or the other of ‘em as the mornin’ passed. He were surprised by how quickly he started missing them. Going without them was startin’ to get painful, that were for damn sure.
Only three more months until school is out and then ain’t no one can say a word ‘bout me datin’ Hannah.
It were the only thing that kept him cheerful as he was cleaning the boy’s bathroom. How was it that boys never managed to hit the toilet? He was damn sure that when he were a kid, his aim was loads better than the kids nowadays. His parents woulda paddled his ass if he’d left yellow puddles behind every time he used the toilet.
It were a damn good thing that both Brooksy and Hannah was at the school, or he woulda quit a long time ago. Even working nights at the gas station and never sleepin’ right was better than cleanin’ up puddles of yellow piss.
A lifetime later or so, lunchtime finally hit and he sat with Brooksy, Juan, and Juniper, listenin’ to them snigger ‘bout some dumb joke that every student was tellin’ each other that day. Juan would ask, “What has hundreds of ears but can’t hear a thing?” and then Brooksy would yell out, “A cornfield!” and then all three of them would collapse into giggles.
Yup, it sure was a stupid joke, but he figured it were even funnier to them ‘cause it were a room full of farmin’ kids.
Watching the fifth graders acting like children – ‘cause they were children, dammit – he had a hard time thinkin’ that he were once their age. His parents didn’t take kindly to dumb jokes or puns or anythin’ that a kid would think were funny, so he’d grown up without much laughter around him.
Listening to Brooksy askin’ the lead-in line for the third time in a row, he had to acknowledge that maybe there were somethin’ to his parents dislike of childish humor. It sure weren’t for him – not no more. But, as Brooksy looked up at him, laughin’ uproariously as Juan shouted out, “A cornfield!” he decided that maybe it were okay. As long as Brooksy was happy, he was too.
Although maybe he oughta buy her a joke book so she could switch things up every once in a while. Perhaps then she wouldn’t be driving her papa to insanity quite so quickly.
Just as they was clearing their trays off the table so the kids could run off to the playground, one of the older lunch ladies – Miss Patsy with her nest of bright blue hair tucked up under her hairnet – slow-poked her way over to him. Her arthritis in her hips was giving her fits again today, he could tell, and he wondered again to himself why she didn’t just take social security payments and stay at home. Somehow, she managed to always be cheerful, even when she was in lots of pain.
“Elijah, dear, can you come help us old ladies out? Why, Sue dropped a big bag of salt and busted it open all over the floor. It’s a real mess in there now.”
“Of course, Miss Patsy,” he told her. He hugged Brooksy real quick and then followed Miss Patsy’s painful gait back into the kitchen. The lunch ladies were sure a nice bunch to let him eat every day for free, and he weren’t about to thank ‘em for it by ignoring their askin’ him for help.
Miss Patsy had been right – the salt had gone everywhere. He was sure if he took the covers off the lights in the ceiling, he’d find it in there, too. Sue kept apologizin’ to him. “I don’t know how it happened,” she fretted, ringing her hands as she watched him work. “It was in my hands, and then it was going everywh—”
BEEP! BEEP! BEEP!
The ear-splittin’, eye-waterin’ fire alarm was so shockin’, Miss Patsy threw her hands up in the air with a yell that were almost as loud as the alarm, which sent a container of somethin’ or another flyin’ across the kitchen, white stuff trailin’ behind the container as it went.
Elijah stifled a half-laugh, half-groan. At least he had job security, that were for damn sure.
He practically shoved the lunch ladies towards the row of jackets, ignoring their protests ‘bout needin’ to clean up the mess they was leavin’ behind. “We gotta go, ladies!” he hollered above the racket. “It’ll be here when we get back, I promise.”
Or it’ll be burnt to a crisp, in which case it don’t matter anyway.
He kept that thought to himself. This weren’t no planned fire drill, and even if he couldn’t smell no smoke, that didn’t mean nothin’. It had to be here at the school somewhere, which made shivers go a-dancin’ over his skin. What if it was in Hannah’s classroom? What if she or Brooksy were hurt?
Leavin’ the squawkin’ lunch ladies behind, he took the stairs to the main floor two at a time, snaggin’ his jacket from his closet as he ran down the hallway. The classrooms were all empty and none had flames or smoke rollin’ outta them, so he kept goin’, runnin’ past the flashin’ lights and alarms loud enough to wake the dead.
Gotta find Hannah and Brooksy. Hannah and Brooksy. Gotta make sure they’re okay. Hannah and Brooksy.
The alarms were quickly makin’ him nuts – so loud, it were hard to remember his own name, let alone anything important. He bust out the front doors of the school and pushed out through the crowd of kids, past a couple of the teachers, and hooked a right to find the line for Hannah’s class. They was supposed to be lined up right next to the largest pine tree in the schoolyard, just like every other monthly fire drill they’d done that school year.
He caught sight of Hannah and he breathed a sigh of relief even as he realized that dammit all, she weren’t okay. Usually calm and keepin’ the kids calm too, today she were terrified, frantically countin’ heads as she stood next to the line of her students.
He took off at a lopin’ run again, his legs poundin’ the frozen ground but just like in those nightmares he hated, Hannah didn’t seem to be gettin’ any closer, no matter how fast he ran or how hard he pushed himself. He darted past lines of kids and teachers yellin’ at their kids and the panic were just getting worse ‘cause he were looking at the same line of students as Hannah were, and there weren’t no Brooksy there.
It were an eternity, or maybe two, before he finally got to her side. “Where’s Brooksy?” he demanded, even as he could plainly see there weren’t no Brooksy in sight.
Panic and worry was makin’ it hard for him to think. To breathe. He wanted to shake Hannah’s shoulders until Brooksy appeared. He wanted to yell at her for losing his daughter. Where’s Brooksy? Where’s Brooksy? Where’s Broo—
“I don’t know,” Hannah said, voice a-quiverin’. “We’d just sat down in our seats and I was starting to do the afternoon headcount when the fire alarm went off. But—” she looked up at him, her blue eyes swimmin’ with tears, “I haven’t seen her at all since the lunch bell rang.”
Elijah turned to the line of students, huddled together against the bitter cold, and roared, “Any of you seen my Brooksy? Any of you seen my daughter?!”
As one, they all shook their heads. Elijah scanned the crowd, lookin’ for Juan or Juniper. They’d both been there at lunch. Surely they would know where she was.
He caught Juan’s eye, and Juan just shook his head, lookin’ worried himself. “After we ate with you,” he said, “she went off to turn in her library book. Said she had to get it in today or she’d be in trouble. She wasn’t in line when the recess bell rang, though.”
The library. Of course. He’d find her in the library line. Weren’t that just like his daughter. Too smart for her own damn good, or for the good of his heart. He took off a-lopin’ towards the librarian, the blarin’ of the fire alarm ‘bout to drive him to drink. If they’d just turn that damn thing off, he could think.
He caught sight of Mrs. Damerell, her stooped shoulders rounding in on themselves in the bitter cold. She were standing next to the music teacher, but there weren’t no children near her. “Mrs. Damerell!” he roared over the fire alarm. “Where’s Brooksy?”
Mrs. Damerell pe
ered at him through the beginning flakes of an incoming snowstorm. “Brooksy?” she repeated, as if he’d started speakin’ Latin on her or something.
“Brooklyn Sarah Morland,” he said, emphasizing every syllable like he were talkin’ to someone a little on the slow side.
“Brooklyn came in and turned in her library book,” Mrs. Damerell yelled back over the racket, “but then she left. She wasn’t in the library when the alarm went off. I was by myself.”
But he’d already taken off towards the school secretary, Mrs. Worsop. He were being rude, but he didn’t give a flyin’ duck’s ass about that. All that mattered was Brooksy.
“Mrs. Worsop,” he said, interrupting whatever it was that she were sayin’ to Principal Zeller. “Did Brooksy get checked out of the office today?”
Mrs. Worsop let out an irritated harrumph at his question, but answered it anyway. “No, she wasn’t.” Her eyes sharpened. “Is she missing?”
“She weren’t in Hannah’s class after lunch,” Elijah said to the secretary and the principal, tryin’ not to hyperventilate. He had to think straight. He had to just give ‘em the facts. They’d know what to do. “I ate lunch with her like normal; she turned in a library book; and then she disappeared. Ain’t no one seen her since.”
Mr. Zeller nodded and opened up his mouth to ask a question when the sound of sirens tore up the road and into the school parking lot. Chief Anderson, the new fire chief in town, had slapped a flashin’ yellow light on top of his bright green SUV and had turned on some sorta siren that made him sound like he were in a real fire truck. He jumped outta his personal vehicle, slapped at some knob, and the light and siren turned off. Thank God. The fire alarm by itself was enough to drive a man to drink; adding in a siren too was gonna make him plumb loco.
“Do we have a fire?” Chief Anderson yelled as he headed in their direction. “I called dispatch and they said they didn’t have a practice fire drill on the schedule today.”
The principal shook his head. “It’s not a practice fire drill, but no one has been able to smell smoke or see it, or flames for that matter. Mrs. Worsop and I were just talking about checking to see if some kid pulled a fire alarm to get out of class this afternoon when Elijah here told us that his daughter is missing.”
Chief Anderson swung towards Elijah, his dark brown eyes steady. “Give me just one moment, and then we’ll get to work on this, I promise,” he told Elijah as he pulled his radio off his belt clip. “Calling all fire personnel,” he said into the radio. “We have an unplanned fire alarm going off at the Cleveland Elementary School and a missing—” He pulled his thumb off the button. “What grade is your daughter in?”
“Fifth,” Elijah said tersely, fightin’ the urge to yank the radio out of the man’s hand and start bellowing into it. He wanted to do something – anything at all. Panic were floodin’ through him, pulsin’, makin’ his skin dance and jump.
“A missing fifth-grade girl has also been reported,” the chief yelled into the radio, tryin’ to be heard over that damn fire alarm. “All personnel who can respond, please meet me here at the elementary school.” He pulled his thumb away from the button and looked at the principal. “I was driving past on the way back from lunch,” he shouted, “when I heard the alarms going off. I’m not dressed in my turnout gear because I wasn’t expecting to fight a fire on the way back from lunch,” he gave ‘em a crooked grin, “but my men should be here soon, and they’ll be suited up to go into the building.” He turned to Elijah. “What does your daughter look like, and what’s her name? Let’s check each of the lines out here and make sure she isn’t in the wrong line for some reason.”
“Should I check surveillance tapes to see if a kid pulled the fire alarm?” the principal hollered over the noise at their retreating backs.
“No, sir,” Chief Anderson hollered back respectfully, turning back to the principal even as he was continuing to walk away. “Let my guys get here and clear the school before you go back in. There’ll be plenty of time to find out if it’s a student pulling a prank, after we’re sure it’s safe.”
The principal nodded begrudgingly as Elijah and Anderson took off at a trot, Elijah scrambling to remember what on earth his daughter had worn to school that day. The quickly thickening snow was making it hard to see ten feet in front of him, makin’ him realize that no matter how much he loved his daughter, he couldn’t protect her from everything.
It was the worst feelin’ he’d ever felt in his whole life, even worse than when his parents had threatened to disown him for knocking up Sarah, or when Sarah had told him that she didn’t have to pretend to love him anymore, now that she had inherited money from her parents.
No, this was much, much worse than that. If he didn’t find his daughter soon, he was sure he’d slowly lose his mind.
Brooksy, where are you? I’m sorry I’m such a rotten papa. I’m sorry I lost you. I won’t never screw up again. Just please be okay.
Please.
Chapter 30
Hannah
Her usually orderly lines of students had dissolved into clumps as students huddled together, trying to stay warm in what looked like an incoming blizzard. Hannah would normally be ordering the students back into line but today, she told them to push together tighter. Shared body heat was the only thing that would get them through this.
If this is some student trying to get out of taking a test this afternoon, I hope their ears are frozen solid.
She felt bad even thinking such a thing, but on the other hand, her own ears were frozen solid, so it did seem like just retribution.
Even as she hugged shaking, freezing students against her side, running her hands over their arms to try to keep them warm, she kept scanning the kids milling all about, hoping and praying that she’d spot Brooklyn’s dark blonde hair swinging as she came running over, giving some excuse for why she’d been gone. Maybe she got stuck in the bathroom. Maybe she got scared and was hiding underneath a desk somewhere.
Maybe she’d been kidnapped and the kidnapper pulled the fire alarm on the way out to cover his tracks and create chaos.
She swallowed down the bile in her throat. She couldn’t panic. Not yet. Had anyone called Sarah to tell her that her daughter was missing? Hannah dreaded having to make the phone call – Sarah wasn’t her favorite person on the best of days, and today was definitely not one of those – but she knew someone needed to. If she were Brooklyn’s momma and no one had told her that her daughter had gone missing as soon as they knew there was a problem? Most adults who knew her didn’t believe she could yell, but in that situation, she’d prove them dead wrong.
As it was, she wanted to yell and scream and throw a fit over Brooklyn being missing, but at who? And say what? Technically, Brooklyn had been under her supervision when she’d disappeared. She’d never shown up to class, sure, but she was supposed to, and she hadn’t, and Hannah couldn’t find her, and—
“Ouch!” Tahlia yelped and Hannah looked down in surprise to realize that she’d been squeezing the little girl’s shoulder like she could force Brooklyn’s safe return by wringing it out of Tahlia.
“Sorry, Tahlia,” she shouted over the blaring of the alarm. If someone didn’t turn off that fire alarm and soon, she was going to murder somebody. The endless blaring was enough to make a person plain nuts. She looked around for Elijah or the principal or someone to tell her what was going on while simultaneously trying to huddle deeper into her coat. She wished she’d thought to grab her knitted wool hat too. Her scalp was frozen solid, or at least it felt like it.
Through the swirling flakes, she spotted Elijah hurrying their way with…was that Chief Anderson next to him? Was it really a fire then? She’d almost had herself convinced that it was just a student prank since no one had been able to spot flames or smoke, but if the fire chief was here…
That wasn’t a good sign, for sure. Worried, she yelled over the din of the alarms, “Is there a fire, then?”
“We don’t know,” A
nderson yelled back. “I’ve got a crew on its—”
Two sirens added to the cacophony and Hannah clapped her hands over her ears. “Mylanta, this noise is going to drive me nuts!” she yelled. She didn’t even know who she was yelling at. She just knew that she was a hairbreadths away from losing it completely.
Two fire trucks squealed to a stop in front of the school; the sirens mercifully dying away even as the lights kept flashing. Men in full turnout gear poured out of the trucks but through the hazy snow, Hannah couldn’t tell who was who. She knew everyone on the fire crew, of course – in a town this size, it’d be impossible not to – but that didn’t mean she recognized them through biting snow tearing at her skin and eyes.
“While they’re searching the school for the fire,” the new fire chief shouted over the noise, “Elijah here says that his daughter Brooklyn is missing, and that you’re her teacher. Have you seen her since lunch?”
She shook her head frantically. “I was just starting to do my after-lunch check of the students when the fire alarm went off. Her friends said that she went to the library to turn in a book but no one’s seen her since.”
“My guys are going to do a sweep of the school so we can figure out if there’s really a fire or not – if someone just pulled the alarm to cause problems, we shouldn’t be having the students stand outside in this weather. They’ll keep their eyes peeled for Brooklyn while they’re clearing out the school. They’ll radio me if they find her. In the meanwhile, we need to call her mother and see if she knows anything. Maybe Brooklyn walked home without permission and her mom doesn’t know we’re looking for her.”
Hannah just nodded, keeping her thoughts to herself. If Brooklyn was going to run away, she wouldn’t be running away to her mother’s house. Brooklyn’s plea rang in Hannah’s ears.
You don’t never get drunk.
