Boy Still Missing

by John Searles

We watched the red one. Its gills barely moving. Breathing in its own strange way. Jeanny said, “I guess their bodies adjust. They can take the cold.”

  We watched the fish a moment more, waiting for it to do something, I supposed. But it just sat there. Dormant.

  “I’ve been thinking,” I told Jeanny as we stared down at the ice, a blank mirror that wouldn’t reflect our images. “Maybe you’re right about giving Sophie back. Maybe she’s not safe here.” I hadn’t quite realized my decision until the words came out. But it was my mother’s message that had convinced me. I needed to reverse what I had done before anything else went wrong. And giving Sophie back to Edie seemed the only realistic thing to do, even if that felt like failure.

  We stood up, and Jeanny put her arms around me, over my shoulders. I squeezed her low on the waist, locking us together. “I know it will be hard,” she said into the air over my shoulder. “But it’s the right thing to do.”

  You would have thought that settling on a plan would’ve caused a great weight to be lifted from me. But no, I actually felt more pressed down and flattened with hopelessness. I realized that giving Sophie back meant letting go of Jeanny, too, the temporary life we had been living in the Holedo Motel. I pulled away and took a good, long look at her. She was wearing a pair of my jeans that Leon had brought to us, so baggy the cuffs went down over her boots and touched the ice. Her cheeks were pink from the winter air. The thing that struck me as so cool about Jeanny was that she showed every part of herself to me. Most girls seemed to reveal only a glimpse of their personalities before reeling themselves back in. Jeanny was different. Real. Honest. She said what was on her mind, even if people—including me—didn’t like it. But just because she had all her opinions about the world, that didn’t mean she couldn’t let loose and have a good time. Looking at her, I told myself that no matter what happened after I returned the baby—the same way my mother had Truman—I would always remember my time here with her.

  “So do you want to go back?” Jeanny asked. “Unless you’re part goldfish, you must be freezing.”

  Leon wasn’t exactly Mary Poppins, so I figured we’d better get back. I took Jeanny’s hand, and we headed across the ice, shuffling our boots so we didn’t lose our balance and fall. We were about to step off the ice and start down the path when Jeanny stopped. “Look,” she said, pointing. “It’s starting to snow.”

  The light flakes made the slightest patter as they fell onto the bare tree branches and the floor of the woods. More white to cover the white that was already there.

  “I love when it snows,” Jeanny said. “It slows everything down.”

  I couldn’t help thinking of the storm the night I found my mother. Would there ever be a time that snowfall didn’t make me think of seeing her body on the floor? We stood on the edge of the ice a moment longer. Listening to the patter. Letting the wet flakes land on our faces and melt with the heat of our skin. Then I tugged on Jeanny’s hand, and she followed me back through the woods. Something made me think of Marnie as we stepped through the woods. I remembered her telling me that I could stay at her place, and I wondered if she had meant for good. In a weird way I actually kind of missed the Bingo Queen.

  We stopped at the corner of the motel, made sure no cars were passing the place, then scooted up the cement stairs. When we got to the door, Jeanny stepped aside and told me to open it. “Why?” I asked.

  “Open it,” she said. “You’ll see.”

  I turned the knob and pushed in the door. A dozen balloons floated up near the ceiling—pink, white, yellow, red, blue, green. On the dresser was a bowl of chips and dip. A six-pack of Dr Pepper. Two small presents wrapped in the paper from a brown shopping bag. A bow had been stuck to Sophie’s guitar-case bed.

  “Happy birthday!” Jeanny and Leon said in unison.

  My birthday. Only it wasn’t until tomorrow. I figured I didn’t need to let them know they’d gotten the date wrong. We might as well start the party early. Jeanny picked up Sophie and brought her to me. There was a bow taped to one of her feet, too. I peeled it off and stuck it to Jeanny’s head. Gave Sophie a kiss on her soft cheek. Then I heard my mother’s voice telling me that Sophie was in danger here with me. As much as it killed me, I had to take her home.

  “Here you go, birthday boy.” Jeanny grabbed a present off the dresser and handed it to me, took Sophie again. “From the pea and me. Keep in mind, this is a low-budget birthday. I haven’t exactly had a chance to go to Bloomingdale’s.”

  I tore it open and found six twelve-packs of gum. Not Juicy Fruit, but Chiclets in every flavor. Along with that there was a doodly drawing of Sophie, Jeanny, and me. Jeanny had sketched herself in a pleated skirt and dark sweater. The bubbled caption read “World’s Worst Outfit!” An arrow pointed to Sophie’s hand with a bubble that read “Future Arm-Wrestling Champ!” Over my head it simply said “Birthday Boy.”

  I laughed, thinking I’d frame the drawing the way my uncle had that photo of him and Truman at Laguna del Perro. It would be my only tangible reminder of the last three days. Once again I saw my life stretching out before me. A blank chalkboard. An empty notebook. I felt the heavy weight of sadness I guessed I’d always feel without my mother. But it was my birthday—or almost anyway—so I tried to forget that for the time being and smile.

  Jeanny tapped a yellow balloon in the air with her free hand. It bumped the red one, and I grabbed it, pulled it down to me, thinking of those hats at St. Patrick’s. It was one of those balloons that had a smaller balloon inside. Like the kind Marnie used to bring me from the dingy gift shop at Griffith Hospital when I was a kid. She used to get the end-of-the-day no-sales on her way out of work, and they always sank to the floor in no time. I looked at the stretched rubber surface and saw a curved version of myself and the room behind me, tinted red just like my dream, only more disorienting because of the round reflection. I let go, and the balloon shot up to the ceiling, thumped against the flat white surface, and cocked its faceless face down at me. Watching. Staring. The balloon’s string was more like a ribbon, and it hung like an upside-down question mark, curling in front of me. I thought of what it might be asking from up there:

  Are you sure you want to give the baby back to Edie?

  Before I had time to answer that in my mind, the balloon popped, making a gunshot of a noise, startling all of us. Jeanny let out a surprised sort of yelp. The baby began to wail. The shriveled bits of red skin dropped to the floor, and I thought of a cardinal released into heaven. My mother.

  “Okay,” Jeanny said. “No playing with the survivors. Let them float freely. Balloons have rights, too.”

  Jeanny worked at calming Sophie, and Leon took the second present from the dresser and handed it to me. I shook it near my ear. Not a sound. It weighed next to nothing. “Let me guess,” I said, kidding him. “Another gun. More bullets.”

  “Just open it,” he said, looking over my shoulder toward the door instead of at me. He kept tapping one hand on his leg in a way that seemed fidgety, not at all like him.

  I tore off the paper and pulled out an office envelope. Peeled back the sticky, dried yellow lip he had sealed, then bent the wings of the metal clasp to find a wad of cash inside. When I pulled it out, my hand felt charged with energy, the way it did when I held that gun. Without even counting the bills, I said to Leon, “I can’t take this.”

  “It’s yours,” he said.

  “But it’s too much. I can’t accept it.”

  “No, man. I mean, it’s yours.” Leon looked toward the covered window then back at me. Fidgety still. “Well, the first installment anyway. There’s more on the way.”

  “Installment? What do you mean?” I said, confused.

  Leon’s voice was shaky when he spoke next. He held both his hands out in front of him, palms up, as if there was something in them I was supposed to see. “I don’t know how to say this, so I guess I’ll just say it. Remember the envelope Edie gave me that day you were in New York? Well, there was a whole b
unch of money in it, and I. . . well, I’ve been sort of holding on to it for you.”

  The floor shifted beneath my feet the way it had the night I found my mother in this room, the way it might feel if that ice cracked on the pond and I sank down into the freezing water, my boots sucked into the cold mud.

  Leon was still talking. “I used it to get the car and then to make some more money with Ed. And now I’m going to start paying you back.”

  Everything around me seemed to shrink as Leon’s face grew larger before me. His hands were still in front of him, empty with air. His eyes broad and blinking.

  I let go of the drawing Jeanny had given me.

  I dropped the bills, and they scattered at my feet.

  “You fucking kept that money!” I screamed so loud I swore I felt something tear in the back of my throat. My skin was melting, on fire.

  “I tried to tell you,” Leon stammered. “But you told me not to bring it up.”

  I curled my fingers into a fist. Lunged at him. Swung at his lying sack-of-shit face.

  “Dominick!” Jeanny shouted.

  But her voice, and Sophie’s crying, sounded far away. Above the ice when I was below. As muffled and distant as two sirens on the other side of town. My fists kept flying. He didn’t swing back but grabbed my arms in an effort to hold me still. My anger was stronger, though, and I broke free, swung at him. Got in one, two, then three more solid punches before he pushed me off. I fell to the floor, slamming the back of my head against the hard wood of the dresser. When I looked up at him from where I lay among that drawing and those strewn bills, there were spots in front of my eyes. Black, shapeless demons that floated in the air mingling with my dizziness. Taunting:

  Edie paid you back.

  Leon kept the money.

  I screamed again, “You are a fucking asshole! How could you let me keep thinking that Edie had cheated me when you had the money the whole time?”

  Leon’s lip was bleeding, and he reached up and touched the blood, wiped it on the back of his hand. “I said I was paying you back, you crazy motherfucker.”

  I was about to say something more, to tell him to burn in hell, but Jeanny interrupted. “Shhh,” she said. “Did you hear that?”

  Silence.

  Leon and I looked at her. “What?”

  “It sounded like a car door slamming.” Jeanny walked to the window and peeked out, holding Sophie and trying to massage the nipple of the bottle into her mouth. As she stared down at the parking lot, her face looked stricken. A girl in a horror movie who had finally met the monster. “Dominick. Come here.”

  I got up off the floor and clambered to the window. Outside in the snowy, dusky air, Roget was getting out of his squad car. With him was none other than Joshua Fuller. I felt a cold wave of fright wash over me. Then my gut instinct kicked in. I told Jeanny to take Sophie into the closet and quiet her down. I didn’t giving a shit where Leon hid.

  “What are you going to do?” Jeanny asked.

  “I don’t know,” I told her, turning the bolt on the door, sliding the chain into place. I supposed I was just going to watch them. See what they were up to. Keep them from coming inside.

  Leon slumped quietly into the bathroom. Jeanny took the baby and settled in on the floor of the closet. She kept the door cracked open, and I could see her nervously shushing Sophie. I turned and watched through the peephole as Joshua Fuller pulled a camera out of his pocket and snapped pictures of the motel.

  Click. Flash. Click. Flash.

  They walked toward the stairs.

  I waited behind the door, and my heart throbbed in my chest. An unseeable claw—maybe the one that belonged to that Hansel-and-Gretel bird—scratched at my face, gripped my throat, and made me gulp for air. As they got closer, I heard Roget say, “Like I told you, the owner is in Florida for the rest of the winter.”

  The sound of his voice made those black demon spots dance in front of my eyes again. I hated Roget for what he had done to my mother. He could have helped her. Saved her life. It took all my strength not to open the door and go after him the way I had Leon. I shook my head to rid myself of that temptation, those dark spots, that claw. My neck felt stiff, and I reached up and touched my head where it had hit the dresser. When I pulled my hand away, there was blood on my fingertips.

  “And like I told you,” Joshua was saying, sarcastic, “I talked to him over the phone. But I just want to see the place while I’m here.”

  I heard nothing for a moment, then footsteps, and they were right outside the door. So close I thought I could hear them breathing. Inhale. Exhale. Inhale. Exhale. Through the hole I saw Joshua Fuller’s purple birthmark, distorted and round, like the image in that balloon before it burst. I remembered the way he had called after me when I ditched him in the diner.

  We had a deal!

  We had a deal!

  We had a deal!

  “This is the room?” he asked.

  “That’s what the report said,” Roget told him. “I wasn’t here.”

  Joshua put his hand on the knob and turned. I watched it move one way, then the other, as my whole body shook. “Locked,” he said.

  “What did you think, the owner was going to leave the place wide open?”

  “I was just trying for the hell of it. So would you mind giving me a lift to Marnie Garboni’s place?”

  “Sure thing,” Roget said.

  I heard their footsteps walk away, and I was about to let out a sigh when Joshua called to Roget, who must have already been ahead of him on the stairs. “The room next door is open.”

  Instantly I realized that the door was still unlocked from when I had gone out that way earlier. As a matter of fact, it had probably been unlocked for days. How could I have been so fucking careless? My whole body seemed to shake as I moved to the closet, crouched next to Jeanny. Her eyes big and wide as she rocked Sophie, who was busy with her bottle, making that milky sound.

  Please, God, I prayed, don’t let her cry.

  “I don’t know what you expect to find,” I heard Roget’s muffled voice say when the door opened in the next room.

  “I don’t expect to find anything. I’m a reporter. Reporters like to take everything in. That’s all. Aren’t police officers supposed to be curious, too?”

  Roget didn’t answer that.

  “The bed’s not made,” Joshua said. “There’s blankets on the window.”

  “I’ll be sure to get the name of the chambermaid so I can arrest her for you.”

  “You’re a funny guy,” Joshua Fuller said.

  Jeanny and I listened as they walked around the room. Hard, discordant footsteps on the floor, like two horses circling each other in a tight stable. Someone—I assumed it was Joshua Fuller—opened and closed a drawer. My mind filled with the image of that Bible stuffed with the pistol Leon had given me. Why hadn’t I just thrown the thing away? I didn’t have time enough to worry about them finding it, because something far worse happened.

  I heard the closet door open on their side.

  “Hey,” Joshua Fuller said. “There’s a door in the back of this closet. It must connect with Five-B.”

  Too late to turn the lock, because he would hear the sound. I reached up and put my hand on the knob. Held it as hard as I could. Joshua tried to turn it from the other side as I squeezed until my fingers hurt, pulled with all my weight. That’s when Sophie spit her bottle out of her mouth. Jeanny and I watched her, willing her not to cry.

  Please, God.

  Please, God.

  Please, God.

  She moved her mouth but kept quiet.

  “It’s locked,” Joshua said finally and let go.

  I kept holding on anyway, in case one of them tried again.

  “Oh, well,” Roget told him, “I still don’t know what you’re expecting to find.”

  The closet door closed, and I heard more footsteps. “There’s a car parked out back,” Joshua said. “Is it the owner’s?”

  “Nah,” Roge
t told him. “There’s a pond on the property. Probably high-school kids playing a hockey game back there. Listen, if you don’t mind, I’d like to take you to Miss Garboni’s so I can get on with some business of my own.”

  “All right. I’m done here,” Joshua said.

  I heard their footsteps move to the door, and then they were outside again. My hand stayed gripped on the doorknob even as I told myself it was okay to let go. A moment later Roget’s car started in the parking lot. I peeled my stiff fingers away and went to the window. Watched them drive off, my heart still racing.

  Leon emerged from the bathroom. A piece of toilet paper stuck to his split lip like my father when he cut himself shaving. “I’m out of here,” he said.

  “Wait,” I told him. “I want you to drive me and the baby back to New York right now.”

  “Now? I just can’t drive to New York now. What would I tell Leila?”

  “Since when are you so concerned with what you tell your mother? And I own that car of yours anyway. So if I want a ride, you don’t have much of a choice.”

  “Dominick,” Jeanny said. “We’re all really worked up. And it’s almost dark outside and snowing. You know how much I want you to take this baby back. But it would be smart if we all calmed down and left first thing in the morning. It’ll give us time to figure out how we’re going to get the baby to Edie.”

  I knew Jeanny was right, but I couldn’t help thinking of my mother’s message. If Sophie was in danger here with me, then one night could make all the difference.

  “One more night,” Jeanny said quietly.

  And I could tell by the way she said it that despite her return-Sophie-to-her-rightful-owner campaign, she hated letting go of our life here, too. Just like me, she wanted us to sleep next to each other one last time. And I wanted to have my sister with me a little longer before our lives changed forever. “Fine,” I told Leon. “Pick us up at seven. Don’t be late. And don’t bring that dope Ed with you.”

  Leon walked to the window, pushed the curtain and blankets aside, I guessed to make sure they were definitely gone. Before opening the door, he turned back to face me. “It wasn’t like I set out to rob you,” he said, his voice still shaky. “When Edie first handed me that envelope, she made me swear up and down that I would give it to you. And I planned on it. But then everything happened with your mom. And you didn’t want to hear about it—”