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Missing Child

Page 3

by Patricia MacDonald

‘Thanks, Mom,’ Geordie said and reached out a little hand to her.

  Caitlin took it and squeezed it in her own. ‘You’re welcome, sweetie,’ she said. She turned her face so he would not see the tears which sprang to her eyes. She wiped them away and cleared her throat. ‘Well, I better get some of this stuff put away,’ she said. She started back up the lawn to the house, trying to think about what she needed to do next. But as she walked, her heart was singing, and all she could think about was that Geordie had called her Mom. He had made it official. He belonged to her.

  TWO

  The following morning, Caitlin stood at the sink and felt the sun on her face as it streamed through the kitchen window. The morning sun also filtered over the breakfast table where Geordie rested his cheek on one hand and played with his cereal. Caitlin cast a sympathetic glance at the listless child. The post-birthday let-down seemed to be hitting him pretty hard.

  Noah came into the kitchen carrying his briefcase and set it down beside the table. He picked up a piece of toast and took a bite. ‘Hey, you better eat that cereal, buddy,’ Noah said. ‘You didn’t have any supper last night. All you ate was junk food and birthday cake.’

  ‘I’m not hungry,’ said Geordie. ‘I think I’m sick.’

  Noah frowned. ‘Sick how?’

  Geordie shrugged. ‘I think I caught it from Uncle Dan.’

  ‘Uncle Dan had a headache. You can’t catch a headache.’

  Geordie was undeterred. ‘Can I stay home?’

  ‘You don’t look sick.’

  ‘I want to stay home with you,’ Geordie said plaintively.

  ‘Can’t. I have to be in court this morning,’ said Noah, taking a bite out of a piece of toast. ‘And you, my friend, have school. Now hurry up and finish. Caitlin will take you today.’

  ‘But it’s Fall Festival,’ Geordie protested. ‘You have to come and see my project. The one we did about the leaves.’

  Noah grimaced. ‘I thought it was on all week.’

  ‘You have to come today,’ Geordie exclaimed.

  Noah pondered the problem. ‘Tell you what. How ’bout if I pick you up after school and you show it to me then?’

  ‘That’s no good. Everybody’s coming this morning,’ Geordie insisted, slumping over, his head resting on his skinny little arms on the tabletop.

  Noah finished his toast. ‘This afternoon. That’s my final offer,’ he said.

  ‘Come on, Geordie,’ Caitlin said. ‘I’m going to come in and look at your project. And if you hurry, we can drive by that barn with the horses.’

  Geordie looked up, his eyes wide behind his glasses. ‘Will the horses be outside?’

  ‘Probably,’ said Caitlin.

  That was all the encouragement that Geordie needed. His ailments and disappointment forgotten, he hopped up from the table, and started for his room.

  ‘Hey. Bowl,’ said Caitlin.

  Geordie turned back without protest, collected his bowl and spoon and brought them to the sink where Caitlin was rinsing the dishes. Then he ran off to get his backpack.

  Noah sighed. ‘Thanks. You saved my butt. You’re good at this, you know.’

  ‘Good at what?’ Caitlin said.

  ‘Kids. You’re good.’

  Caitlin did not reply.

  ‘You are,’ said Noah. ‘You’re a natural.’

  ‘Not really,’ said Caitlin.

  Noah frowned at her. ‘Thinking about your brother?’ he asked.

  Caitlin sighed and shook her head, even though he had read her mind.

  ‘Look, by the time they get to be teenagers, it’s too late. You can’t really change them,’ said Noah.

  This was a subject Caitlin avoided. Noah knew the outlines of her history. He knew that after her parents had died, Caitlin had moved back to the family home in South Jersey to take care of her teenage brother. He also knew that James had been in and out of trouble and had died of a drug overdose. That was all. ‘I know that,’ she said irritably.

  ‘What happened to James was not your fault. Believe me. I see these kids in court all the time. It’s beyond what even a parent can do. Never mind a sister.’

  ‘I’m sure you’re right,’ she murmured.

  ‘I know you tried your best,’ said Noah.

  ‘It wasn’t enough,’ she said.

  ‘Look, you may not believe me,’ said Noah, ‘but I meant what I said. You are good at this.’

  ‘Good at what?’ a small voice piped up from the vicinity of their hips.

  Noah turned, looked down and saw his son’s upturned face. His big glasses. The space between his teeth. He grabbed Geordie up in a hug. ‘Good at eating you up,’ Noah proclaimed.

  Geordie let out a shriek of laughter as his father made juicy gobbling noises against his downy cheek.

  Normally the school parking lot was an orderly procession of cars stopping to discharge kids, and then pulling away. Today, because of the Fall Festival, adults were looking for parking, and accompanying their children inside. Usually, Caitlin dropped Geordie at the front of the school, but this time the door outside the entrance to the auditorium was open, and it was closer to the parking lot. She drove around to it, keeping a careful eye out for little ones who might absent-mindedly dart into her path, and parked the car.

  Geordie ran ahead, disappearing into the crowd flowing through the open doors to the auditorium. Caitlin went in behind him. The school auditorium had a proscenium at one end, and an open kitchen at the other. The auditorium doubled as the cafeteria at lunchtime and the gymnasium at others. During Fall Festival all the gym classes were held out of doors in the mild, autumn sun, and the kids ate lunch as usual among the exhibits which lined the walls.

  Caitlin walked into the crowded auditorium and looked around for Geordie. The room was filled with moms and dads either being dragged or ignored by their kids. She did not know many of these parents, other than by sight, although they all seemed to know one another. Many of them had known Emily. Since marrying Noah, Caitlin had deliberately tried to keep a low profile so as not to be seen as disrespecting Emily’s memory. Caitlin didn’t see Geordie, but suddenly she spotted Naomi, and felt a sudden pleasure at the sight of a familiar face.

  ‘Naomi!’ she called out. Naomi, who was deep in discussion with another mom, turned and frowned at her. Then she raised a hand in greeting. Caitlin went over to her. ‘Hi,’ she said.

  ‘Hi, Caitlin. You know Janice?’

  Caitlin shook her head and Naomi introduced her to the other mom, who then said she had to slip away.

  Caitlin looked around the noisy auditorium. ‘I’m looking for Geordie. He ran in here before I could tell him to wait.’

  ‘I haven’t seen him,’ said Naomi. ‘I’m just leaving. Who’s his teacher?’

  ‘Mr Needleman,’ she said.

  ‘I’m sure Mr Needleman’s flitting around here somewhere in his ballet slippers,’ said Naomi.

  ‘He seems like a very good teacher,’ said Caitlin, a note of reproof in her tone.

  ‘Oh, yeah. He’s capable,’ said Naomi. ‘I just think it would be helpful for these boys to have a more . . . traditional role model.’

  ‘Traditional?’ said Caitlin.

  ‘Masculine, I mean,’ said Naomi. ‘That’s why I like Travis to go to Scouts. One of Rod’s old army buddies is the Scout leader. I like him to have that kind of influence. Life is confusing enough these days.’

  Caitlin didn’t want to get into an argument with her sister-in-law. ‘I think it’s good for kids to know all kinds of people,’ she said diplomatically.

  ‘I suppose,’ Naomi sighed. ‘Well, I’ve got to get to work. If I see Geordie on my way out I’ll tell him you’re looking for him. You should check out Travis’s project. He did it on recycling,’ Naomi said proudly.

  ‘I’ll look for it,’ Caitlin promised.

  Naomi headed for the door and was swallowed by the crowd.

  Caitlin made her way over to the display from Mr Needleman’s class, and bega
n to look for Geordie’s project. Every so often she glanced around, looking for Geordie, but there was no sign of him. She went through every student’s project until she found Geordie’s and then she took it in, trying to memorize everything about it, so she could describe it to him when she saw him.

  ‘Geordie did a good job,’ said Alan Needleman, coming up beside her.

  Caitlin turned and looked at the teacher. He was young – not much more than thirty – but his blond hair was already thinning. He had pale eyelashes and dimples. He wore an argyle vest over his shirt, the latest in running shoes, and exuded a kind of positive energy which made Caitlin smile every time she saw him. Rumor had it that he lived with a male partner who worked at the fire department in Deptford County. ‘He’s very proud of it,’ Caitlin admitted.

  ‘He told me that you helped him collect the leaves and look up the Latin names.’

  ‘I did,’ said Caitlin, beaming. ‘We went over to the Arboretum. It was fun. I love doing things with him.’

  ‘He’s a very special boy,’ said Mr Needleman.

  ‘We think so,’ said Caitlin, scanning the room again for a sign of Geordie. ‘Have you seen him, by the way?’

  ‘Oh, I’m sure he’s running around here somewhere.’

  Caitlin looked at her watch. ‘I hate to leave without telling him myself, but I’ve got to get to work. Will you let him know that I saw his project?’

  ‘Sure,’ said Mr Needleman.

  ‘It’s not like him to miss out on a chance to be praised,’ said Caitlin, frowning as she glanced around the hectic scene.

  Alan Needleman rolled his eyes. ‘They’re all the same that way. Don’t worry. I’ll tell him.’

  Caitlin parked in her space at the college, went into the building and unlocked the door to her office. August and September were usually a nightmare of students changing schedules, changing their majors, changing their minds in general. But, to her surprise, the last week or so had been quiet. She even had a little time to catch up on her paperwork in the mornings before her first student appointment. She went out into the reception area to say good morning to Beverly. Angelic pictures of Beverly’s four kids were lined up on her desk. But this morning a stranger sat in Beverly’s seat.

  ‘Good morning,’ said Caitlin.

  ‘Hi, Dean Eckhart,’ she said. ‘I’m June. I’m filling in for Beverly. One of her kids fell off the deck and broke his wrist.’

  ‘Oh, no,’ said Caitlin.

  ‘She’ll be in tomorrow.’

  ‘Thanks,’ said Caitlin. ‘Do you know what to . . .’

  June held up a hand. ‘Beverly briefed me. All’s well.’

  ‘Thanks,’ said Caitlin, pointing back toward her office. ‘I’ll be in there.’

  June nodded and picked up her phone, which was ringing. ‘Dean Eckhart’s office.’

  Caitlin went back into her small but comfortable office and waited for her phone to ring. But whoever the caller had been, June did not put them through. Caitlin frowned. It could have been some matter that wasn’t in Caitlin’s purview. Of course, she would expect Beverly to be able to screen her calls, but how could June be expected to know which ones to put through? Stop micromanaging, she thought. Enjoy the peace and quiet. ‘I’m sure she knows what she’s doing,’ Caitlin said aloud to no one in particular. Suddenly, Caitlin’s cell phone rang and she jumped. She fumbled to pick up the phone which she had not expected to ring.

  ‘Mrs Eckhart?’ said an unfamiliar voice.

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘This is Miss Benson. I work in the office at Geordie’s school. I tried to reach your husband but his phone seems to be turned off.’

  ‘He’s in court. What is it?’ Caitlin asked. She thought about Geordie’s complaints of illness this morning. Maybe he wasn’t faking. Maybe he really wasn’t feeling well. ‘Is Geordie sick?’

  There was a silence at the other end of the line. ‘I was just calling to ask you that,’ the woman said slowly.

  Caitlin frowned, instantly wary. ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘Well, he is not in school today. It’s our policy to check on all absent students.’

  Caitlin could hear the thudding of her own heart in her ears. ‘There must be some mistake. He is in school. I took him there myself this morning.’

  There was another silence. Then Miss Benson said, ‘I will double check this and call you right back. It will only take a moment.’

  ‘Wait a minute. What’s going on?’ Caitlin cried.

  Miss Benson hesitated. ‘Geordie’s teacher reported him absent to the office.’

  ‘Mr Needleman? That’s got to be a mistake. I talked to Mr Needleman at the Fall Festival this morning.’

  ‘I’m sure it is. I’ll call you right back after I check.’

  ‘No. Wait. Don’t hang up,’ Caitlin pleaded.

  ‘I won’t. I’ll call on the other line.’

  Caitlin’s hands were sweating on the phone. She wiped them on the pants of her suit.

  The woman came back on the phone. ‘I’m sorry. There’s no mistake. Geordie did not show up in Mr Needleman’s class. We are going to make an announcement and search the building. I can call you right back.’

  ‘No. No. I’m coming over there right now.’

  Before the woman could reply, Caitlin ended the call, and scooped up her purse and her jacket. She felt dazed, as if she had just been punched in the face. She stopped by June’s desk just long enough to say that she didn’t know when she would be back. Ignoring June’s protest and questions, she headed out the door.

  THREE

  As she raced up the school steps two at a time, Caitlin prayed. ‘Let it all be a mistake. Oh, please, God. Let it be a misunderstanding.’

  A big, colorfully painted sign announcing the Fall Festival was set up in the school lobby. Caitlin rushed past it, threw open the door to the office and saw the knot of people standing there. Before anyone spoke a word, she knew.

  Mr Needleman approached Caitlin directly. ‘Mrs Eckhart. We are combing the school.’

  Caitlin shook her head. ‘I told you at the festival. He was here.’

  ‘I know. I know. But he never turned up in my classroom,’ Mr Needleman said.

  ‘I don’t understand . . .’

  Mr Needleman looked pained. ‘As soon as I realized . . .’

  The principal, a stout, middle-aged woman named Mrs Hunt, stepped forward and spoke soothingly. ‘Let’s not panic. There’s any number of possible explanations. His father may have picked him up. So far we have had no luck reaching him.’

  ‘He’s still in court. I called the court house on my way here,’ said Caitlin. ‘I told them to send his father over here right away.’

  ‘Good. Hopefully, he may know something about where Geordie is. But we don’t want to waste precious time, just in case. I’ve called the police and they are on their way. Meanwhile, the entire school is being searched. He could be hiding somewhere. Kids do that sometimes.’

  ‘Oh my God,’ said Caitlin. ‘The police?’

  ‘Just a precaution. Here, sit down,’ said Mrs Hunt, offering her a chair. Caitlin wanted to refuse, but her knees were shaking uncontrollably. She sank down onto the seat. She could hear phones ringing in the office and voices talking excitedly. A murmuring crowd was gathering in the foyer, outside the office. Someone in the office offered Caitlin a glass of water, which she declined.

  In her mind’s eye she went over the events of the morning. Cereal, a quick stop to see the horses and then, the drive to school. She could see Geordie, darting through the crowd, eager to get to the Fall Festival. But he wasn’t there when she went into the auditorium. Why didn’t I look for him? she thought. I shouldn’t have left until I saw him, and told him that I’d seen his project. Why did I just leave?

  Mrs Hunt came over to Caitlin and rested a cool hand on her forearm. ‘Your husband just called. He is on his way.’

  ‘He hasn’t seen Geordie?’ Caitlin asked fearfully, knowing the answer.
And her next thought made her stomach churn, as if she were going to throw up. He had entrusted Geordie to her. It was her fault.

  Mrs Hunt tried to smile encouragingly.

  Caitlin couldn’t summon any words to speak. Geordie.

  Outside she heard the sound of a siren. The police were arriving. A clammy chill coursed through Caitlin’s body. Where could he have gone? Had someone . . . Her mind could not bear to rest on the possibilities.

  Through the glass outer wall of the office, Caitlin could hear the thud of footsteps, and the front doors opened. It was not one policeman, but about a half a dozen who rushed in. Two of them entered the office while the others waited in the foyer, ignoring the questions they were being peppered by from the curious knot of students and teachers who were gathering there.

  The first officer, a bald, strong featured man in his early fifties with graying fringe and dark eyebrows, wearing a tie and jacket, introduced himself curtly. ‘I’m Detective Sam Mathis,’ he said. ‘Any sign of the missing child since we spoke?’

  Mrs Hunt shook her head grimly.

  ‘All right,’ said the detective. ‘Do we have photos of him?’

  Caitlin hesitated and then said, ‘Yes.’ She stood up unsteadily, fumbling in her bag.

  Detective Mathis turned and frowned at her. ‘Are you the child’s mother?’

  ‘Stepmother,’ she whispered, pulling out her wallet with the school picture of Geordie taken last year.

  ‘Where is his mother?’

  ‘She is . . . she died,’ said Caitlin, handing him the photo from the plastic sleeve in her wallet. ‘This is Geordie.’

  Detective Mathis gazed impassively at the photo. ‘How old is Geordie?’

  ‘Six,’ said Caitlin. ‘He just turned six. Yesterday was his party.’

  ‘What was he wearing this morning?’ His tone was abrupt, but not unkind.

  Caitlin tried to think. ‘Um. A sweatshirt. One of those hoodies. A gray one. A T-shirt with some crazy picture on it.’

  ‘What kind of crazy picture?’

  Caitlin tried to visualize the shirt. ‘One of the X-Men. Wolverine, I think.’

  Detective Mathis turned and passed the photo to the secretary behind the desk. ‘Does he always wear glasses?’

 

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