Midnight Before Christmas

by William Bernhardt

  “He came to the house today.” Bonnie’s voice cracked; she appeared to be on the verge of breaking down altogether. “The sun was barely up, but he was already drunk. Crazy drunk. Crazy mean drunk. He punched a friend of mine for no reason. He shoved a neighbor down the porch steps. He broke a window with his bare fist.”

  Megan gasped.

  “I have witnesses. My neighbors saw everything. I can give you their names.”

  “Surely you called the police.”

  “One of the neighbors did. Carl ran off when he heard the sirens. I hid, let the neighbors talk to the police. I didn’t want them to know it was me.”

  “That must’ve been awful. I’m so sorry.” She placed her arm around Bonnie’s shoulders and squeezed. As others had noted before, whether Megan’s name was followed by D.D. or Esq., her counseling technique didn’t change much.

  “It was,” Bonnie whispered. “It was a nightmare.” She clutched her handkerchief so tightly she could have wrung water from it. “I was so scared. I’m still scared.”

  “Scared that he’ll come back?”

  “Scared of what he might do. Especially if he gets to Tommy.”

  “Surely he wouldn’t hurt his own son.”

  Bonnie’s eyes widened impossibly, and the flood of tears continued. “I know Carl. He’s thinking, If I can’t have Tommy, no one can.”

  A hollow ache resounded in the pit of Megan’s stomach. It was a feeling she had learned to trust. “Forgive me for asking, Bonnie, but where’s. Tommy now?”

  “He’s at his school-it’s a private school. Villa Veronica. I didn’t want to bring him here. Didn’t want him to see me like this.”

  “I don’t want to alarm you,” Megan said evenly, “but I think you should call. Right now.” She yanked her cordless phone out of its cradle and passed it to Bonnie. “Just to check.”

  Bonnie nodded. Slowly, with trembling hands, she punched seven numbers onto the keypad.

  A moment later, Megan heard a click that told her someone had answered the phone. “H-hello. This is Bonnie Cantrell. I–I wanted to check on Tommy.”

  Megan looked away, but continued to listen. “Yes,” she heard Bonnie say. “Yes.” Then there was a sudden intake of air. “What?”

  Megan whirled around. “What is it? What happened?”

  Bonnie looked up wordlessly. The phone fell out of her hands and landed on the carpet with a thud. “He isn’t there.”

  “Isn’t there? How can that be?” Her answer was more whispered than spoken. “They say his father picked him up.”

  5

  Carl exited I-35 and pulled into the parking lot of the Toys “R” Us near Crossroads Mall. He was worried about Tommy. It had been a cinch liberating him from Villa Veronica. The permanent staff was off for the holidays and the substitutes were clueless. Why shouldn’t he take Tommy? they thought. He was the boy’s father, after all.

  Carl had taken Tommy straight from the school to his car, but ever since then, Tommy had been almost motionless, sitting in the passenger seat staring out the window. No matter what ploy Carl tried to engage him in conversation, Tommy remained silent.

  He supposed he shouldn’t be surprised. The boy had barely seen him these past years. Once they had been as close as any two buddies on the face of the earth, but that was a long time ago now. Baby days, to a mature man of seven. He probably didn’t even remember.

  Damn that woman! She had no right to take his son away from him. She had no right to erect a wall between them. God only knew what horrible things she’d been telling Tommy about him. No wonder he didn’t speak, didn’t seem comfortable. She had probably turned his father into the biggest bogeyman who ever walked the earth. Probably maligned him while glorifying that sorry SOB she was with now.

  “Damn!” he shouted aloud, pounding his fist on the dash.

  He froze, suddenly embarrassed. His son was watching him. Not staring, but surreptitiously peering at him out of the corner of his eye.

  Way to go, Carl, he swore silently to himself. The boy was already uncomfortable and confused. Now you’ve managed to totally alienate him.

  It’s too late. He tried to block out the thought, but it kept coming just the same. It’s too late to undo all the damage she’s done. He will never be yours again. Not unless you take him away from her. Not unless you take him away for good.

  He parked the car, trying to quash the fears that haunted him. “Let’s get out of the car,” he growled.

  He slid out of the seat. As he slammed the door, he noticed his son hadn’t budged. “Well, are you coming already?” he said, waving his hands in the air.

  Tommy popped the door open.

  Carl shook his head. It seemed like only yesterday he had held this boy in his arms and rocked him to sleep. Now the kid came up to his waist. He had a thick thatch of jet-black hair that whipped across his head and hung lopsided over one side of his face. That was the fashion these days, he supposed, stupid-looking as it was. He decided not to make a fuss, even if it did make the kid look like a sissy. His whole face seemed round and soft; obviously his mother had been pampering him, treating him like a baby doll instead of a real boy, exposing him to weak-kneed influences like that boyfriend-

  He stopped himself. He had to get out of this, had to concentrate on his son. He’d gone to all this trouble to get the kid; he should start taking advantage. Especially since he knew their time was limited.

  They started across the parking lot. He reached for his son’s hand, but the boy pulled away. “So what’re you wanting for Christmas this year, son?”

  The boy didn’t look at him. “Mama says Santa will bring what I want tomorrow.”

  Carl rolled his eyes. The kid was seven and he still believed in Santa. Pampered. And he thinks he’s going to get everything he wants. Spoiled.

  “There must be something else you want. Something they don’t have at the North Pole.”

  Tommy’s head twitched a bit, though he still didn’t make eye contact. “Mighty Movin’ Dino-Fighter,” he mumbled.

  “What was that? What did you say?”

  Tommy shrugged. “One of the kids at school has a Mighty Movin’ Dino-Fighter. With the Super-Explosive Power Pack. You know, like on the TV show.”

  “Oh, right,” Carl feigned. “Like on the show.”

  “’Course, that’s Corey Chambers. He has everything.”

  “Oh. I thought you had everything.”

  Tommy shrugged. “Not like Corey Chambers does.”

  Carl smiled sympathetically. The kid was talking to him!

  They stepped up on the curb. A would-be Santa stood in front of the entrance, ringing his bell and trying to persuade shoppers to toss their spare change into his big red cauldron. Carl brushed by him quickly. He didn’t have any change to spare. The two electronic-eye doors slid open and he and Tommy entered the store.

  Or tried, anyway. The place was jam-packed, so much so that they could barely make their way through the entry.

  “What’s going on here?” Carl said.

  “It’s Christmas Eve,” Tommy explained.

  “I know, but …” Carl tried to push his way forward, without much success. It was a madhouse. Bodies, carts, strollers blocked the aisles. People were tearing items off the shelves. Desperate expressions were plastered on the faces of adults as they struggled to reach the items they needed. There was kicking and shoving and a frequent exchange of very un-Christmas-like remarks. Pure pandemonium.

  Tommy frowned. “We’ll never get a Mighty Movin’ Dino-Fighter. Let’s get out of here.”

  “I’m not giving up that easily.” Carl pushed his way forward, knocking people out of the way, while Tommy trailed behind in his wake. Someone shoved up against him on the right, sending a shock wave of pain through his body, reminding him that the wound on his arm had still not been treated.

  He grabbed the first person he saw wearing a Toys “R” Us name tag: CHERRI. She looked to be about fifteen. “Can you help me?” />
  “I’ll try, sir,” Cherri said, but her tone suggested that she was unlikely to put a lot of effort into the attempt. “What are you looking for?”

  “We need a Mighty-Mighty-” He looked down. “What is it again, son?”

  “Mighty Movin’ Dino-Fighter,” Tommy mumbled.

  “That’s it. We need a Mighty Movin’ Dino-Fighter. The best one you’ve got.”

  Cherri’s lips turned up at both ends and she began to laugh. “I’ll bet you would,” she said, laughing all the more. “You and everyone else in this store.”

  “You mean you don’t have one? What kind of toy store is this?”

  “Sir, the Dino-Fighter is the hit toy of the season. Everyone wants one, and we haven’t had any since early November. We don’t expect to have any until late January.”

  “But that doesn’t do me any good. I need one now. For Christmas.”

  “Sorry, sir. No can do.”

  “Then we’ll go somewhere else.”

  “You could go to every toy store in the country, sir, but the story will be the same. They just aren’t available.”

  Carl felt trapped. Here it was, starting all over again. No matter what he did, no one would help, no one would give him a break. No matter what he tried, he always came out a failure.

  “You don’t understand,” he said slowly. “I must have that toy.”

  “I guess you don’t understand,” Cherri said, staring right back at him. Apparently the day’s work had hardened her. “We don’t have any!”

  “Please,” Carl said, his voice rising in volume, “I need a Mighty Movin’ Dino-Fighter!”

  All at once there was a break in the general pandemonium. A hush fell; the movement ceased.

  One lone voice emerged from the back of the crowd. “You’ve got Mighty Movin’ Dino-Fighters?”

  Cherri held up her hands. “No, no,” she said quickly. “You misunder-”

  But it was too late.

  “They’ve got Dino-Fighters!” a woman cried. “Fred! Over here! Dino-Fighters!”

  If the store had been in chaos before, it was in Armageddon now. All at once, every warm body in the store bolted toward Cherri and Carl. They were screaming and pushing and fighting to get to the front. Cherri barricaded herself behind the customer service counter, but the horde continued surging forward. Their hands stretched over the counter, grasping at air.

  “Do you have the Power Packs?” one voice demanded. “I want three!” shouted another. “I have to have three!”

  “I’m telling you, we’re sold out!” Cherri said, but no one was listening. They were an unreasoning mob acting with a single purpose.

  “Let’s get out of here,” Carl said, recognizing the futility of continuing this particular fight. He reached out his hand, but of course, Tommy didn’t take it. The two of them forced their way to the exits.

  They returned to Carl’s pickup. Carl jumped behind the wheel, while Tommy resumed his previous sullen posture in the passenger seat, staring out the window.

  “I’m … um… sorry about that, son,” Carl said finally.

  “It’s okay,” Tommy said. This time he didn’t even bother to shrug. “It’s no big deal. I knew you couldn’t get a Mighty Movin’ Dino-Fighter.”

  Of course not, Carl thought. His brain boiled with rage. Of course not. Not your stupid, useless, impotent father. He can’t do anything right. He fails at everything. That’s what she’s told you, isn’t it? That’s what she’s made you believe.

  He started the car and pulled out of the parking lot, driving much too fast. He’d had it with that woman, that ugly woman and all the venom she spewed, even to his own son. She’d poisoned his mind for good. There was nothing he could do, he realized now. No way he could bring Tommy back. No way he could make his son his again.

  “Let’s get something to eat,” Carl said, pulling back onto I-35.

  “Everything good’ll be closed,” Tommy mumbled.

  “I know a place,” Carl replied. And he did, too. He knew a perfect place. Especially for today.

  There were no more options open to him, he realized. No way to make things like they were before. There was only one opportunity before him now. Only one choice.

  They would go for lunch, Carl resolved. They would go out together one last time.

  And then he would remove the boy from his mother’s evil grasp for good.

  6

  “How could you let him take away my Tommy?” Bonnie shrieked.

  The caregiver tried to remain calm. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know-”

  “You should’ve known!”

  “No one told me anything, ma’am. I can assure you that if they had-”

  “I don’t want to hear any more of your excuses!”

  Megan laid her hand on Bonnie’s shoulder, trying to calm her and subtly signal her to cool off. The situation was dire enough already. They needed to keep their heads together and figure out what to do next.

  Megan’s heart also went out to the poor caregiver, the dark-haired woman who had drawn the thankless duty of administering the short staff on Christmas Eve. She could never have anticipated that she would be thrust in the middle of a horrible domestic crisis.

  Bonnie looked a wreck; her face was streaked with tears and ruined makeup. Megan knew fear was eating away at her, fears she hadn’t even expressed but were haunting her just the same.

  “How could you let that man take my son? I left specific instructions that he not be allowed anywhere near my Tommy. There is a copy of the divorce decree in the files!”

  “I’m sorry, ma’am. I didn’t know any of that.”

  “So you just let anyone stroll in and walk away with the children?”

  “Of course not, ma’am. He wasn’t just anyone. He was Tommy’s father. Tommy confirmed that. And he had identification. Plus he showed us a lot of very official-looking papers.”

  “He used to be a cop!” Bonnie shouted. “He has a glove box full of official-looking papers.”

  Megan took a step forward, hoping that Bonnie would catch her breath and let someone else take the lead for a bit. The caregiver was behaving admirably; even under fire she was staying cool. But Megan knew that wouldn’t last forever.

  “There’s no point in beating this dead horse,” Megan said in a quiet but firm voice. “He has Tommy. We need to figure out where they’ve gone. Did you by any chance notice what kind of car he was driving?”

  Concentration lines etched the caregiver’s face. “I think it was blue. No, wait. Red.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “I think so. Yes. Red.”

  “What kind of car?”

  She frowned. “Gee, I’m really not good with cars.”

  “Two-door or four?”

  “Four. No, two. Actually-come to think of it, he may have been driving a pickup.”

  “I don’t suppose you noticed the license plate?”

  The caregiver shook her head.

  “He drove a red pickup when we were married,” Bonnie said softly. “It was a heap, but he seemed to like it. He probably still has it.”

  “That’s something, then.” Megan turned back to the caregiver. “Did he say where he was taking Tommy?”

  “Not exactly. But he did say something about buying a Christmas present.”

  Bonnie frowned. “Him and everyone else on earth today.”

  “And I think he mentioned getting something to eat.”

  “Did he say where they might go?” Megan asked.

  “He asked Tommy where he wanted to go.”

  Megan leaned in anxiously. “And what did Tommy say?”

  “He didn’t. Didn’t answer. You know, he didn’t really seem all that happy about going.”

  Bonnie’s eyes flew open, her face livid. “Then why in the name of-”

  Megan stopped her from finishing the sentence. “Excuse me. I’d like to speak to my client.” She tugged Bonnie toward the front door. “Thank you for your help, ma’am. We’ll ge
t back to you soon.”

  Once they were outside, Bonnie whirled on her. “Why did you stop me from-”

  “Because it wasn’t doing us any good. Us or Tommy. And we don’t have time for it.” She took Bonnie’s hand and squeezed it. “I know how distraught you are. It’s affecting your judgment.”

  Bonnie’s head fell. “You’re right.” She inhaled deeply. “What do we do now?”

  “First we call the police.”

  “Of course. I didn’t even think-”

  “Then we start cruising all the malls and toy stores and shopping centers. I know it’s a long shot, but if you remember your ex-husband’s pickup, it’s just possible you’ll spot it.”

  Bonnie shook her head slowly from side to side. Tears welled up in her eyes. “We won’t be quick enough. We won’t find him in time.”

  Megan tried to use a gentle tone. “Bonnie, I think you should prepare yourself for the possibility that Tommy might not be with you for Christmas. I know that’s tough, but-”

  Tears spilled down Bonnie’s face. “You don’t understand,” she whispered, her voice broken. “You don’t understand.”

  Megan tried. “You’re afraid he’ll kidnap Tommy. Take him away somewhere.”

  “More than that.” Her voice dropped. “You remember what I said before. How Carl feels. How selfish he is. How he thinks if he can’t have Tommy, no one can.”

  Megan’s throat suddenly went dry. “Are you saying-?”

  Bonnie nodded, shaking tears down her cheeks. “He’ll kill him,” she whispered. “I know he will.”

  “But he’s the boy’s father! How can you think that?”

  Bonnie looked up, her face red and ruined. “Because he’s tried before.”

  Carl stared across the car at his son, so young, so tiny, so fragile. So easily hurt.

  He pulled his eyes to the front. First things first. He had promised this boy lunch. So lunch it would be.

  The sky was even darker than before. It was going to snow today; he was sure of it. Best to get inside beforehand.