Solomon's Oak

by Jo-Ann Mapson

  Dodge’s empty kennel bothered her. She needed to fill it, but if she took the trip Joseph wanted her to, she should wait. Every day the same notion cycled through her mind: What if there’s a last-chance dog at the shelter and I don’t get there soon enough? This afternoon, she’d go to the shelter. She could live without seeing New Mexico, and she didn’t need a boyfriend.

  JOSEPH

  Joseph let himself into the Solomon house around nine. Cadillac ran past him out the front door, almost knocking Dodge down. He and Dodge walked into the kitchen.

  “Hey,” Glory said from the kitchen table.

  He couldn’t help it. Every time he looked at her, he wanted to take her to bed. “Good morning. Thought any more about our trip?”

  “Joseph, I haven’t even got dressed yet. The only thing I’m thinking about is how long it’s going to take for caffeine to hit my bloodstream.”

  “Where’s Juniper?”

  “Sleeping in.”

  He looked at his watch. “This late?”

  “You’re right. Guess I better wake her. Pour yourself some coffee.”

  Glory’s footsteps padded down the hall and he heard a gentle tapping then the door to Juniper’s bedroom creak open. An old house with old-house noises, familiar to the point of being alive, was hard to leave. She wouldn’t come with him.

  “Joseph!” Glory called.

  He set the coffeepot down and went to her. “What’s wrong?”

  “Juniper’s bed hasn’t been slept in.” Glory opened the dresser drawer. “Thank goodness. Her clothes are here. For a minute there I thought she’d run away.”

  “So where is she?” He opened the closet. On the floor, dirty clothes waited in the laundry basket. “Maybe she went for a ride on the spotted horse.”

  “Piper?” Glory shook her head no. “He scares her. She’s never gone out alone.”

  “I hate to break it to you, but she has. I’ve seen her in the oak grove riding the spotted horse.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “It was Christmas Eve. I knew you’d get mad at her and things were hard enough already.”

  “You should have told me.”

  “I agree, but right now we’d better focus on this instead. Maybe she took a sleeping bag into the barn. She can’t get enough of those baby goats.”

  Glory shook her head no. “I was out there a little bit ago. I fed the animals. I think I would have noticed if a horse was missing or she was sleeping in a stall.”

  “Can’t hurt to look again.” Out back they counted twice: two horses, two dogs, four goats, and the same number of hens as every day. The truck and old tractor were parked where they were yesterday. Dan’s old bike was still propped up against the wall in the barn. When Joseph tried the door on Dan’s workshop door, it opened. “I thought you kept this locked.”

  “Oh, no.” Glory went instantly for the green tackle box. “The Percocet’s missing. How did she know it was in here?”

  “Teenagers have radar when it comes to alcohol and pills.”

  They headed to the back door and were cut off by Dodge, who started barking as if he’d never seen Joseph before. His tail was up and quivering like a scorpion. He growled and showed teeth.

  “Stop that,” Glory said. “What’s the matter with you? You remember Joseph.”

  Joseph reached out a hand, and the dog snapped. He backed up to give the dog space and said, “Where’s Juniper, Dodge?” The dog raced to the front door and started barking. “Out front?”

  “She couldn’t go far on foot,” Glory said.

  Joseph didn’t want to tell her just how far some kids could go in eight hours, especially if they hitchhiked. They called themselves hoarse, walked around the property, and ended up in the chapel.

  Glory stood in the aisle, shaking. “This is my fault, Joseph. I told her she had to give her father a chance. Why didn’t I fight harder for her?”

  “You did what you had to according to the law. Let’s call the police.”

  “Really? You don’t think she’ll show up when she’s hungry? One of our foster boys was like that. He never stayed away longer than four hours.”

  “I have experience with runaways, too. Most change their minds and come back, but getting the cops involved and not needing them is a lot better than blaming yourself later for not calling them.”

  Glory’s face crumpled. She sat down on the front-row bench and looked up at him. “How can this be happening, Joseph?”

  “Glory, she’s not Casey.”

  “But—”

  “But nothing.” They headed toward the house. “Make sandwiches, Glory. Lots of them.”

  “Why?”

  “Because searchers get hungry, and we’re going to get everyone we know to call everyone they know to help us look. Use the cell phone to call Lorna. Ask her to bring over a couple cases of soda and bottled water. I’ll use your landline to call the cops.”

  “I was on the Albuquerque police force for two years, and eighteen in the crime lab,” Joseph repeated for the fifth time in an hour. The police, sheriff’s office, and S&R were trying to sort out who was in charge, and he wished they’d share information instead of asking him the same questions. “Can we just get on with things already? We’re wasting time.”

  Glory looked like a robot, standing there at the counter making baloney-and-cheese sandwiches with the boxes of food Lorna had brought over. Lorna stood beside her, wrapping them in waxed paper and tucking apples and chips into lunch sacks. Every once in a while Lorna rubbed the small of Glory’s back. She was still dressed in her blue plaid pajamas.

  Joseph wondered if this was his fault, for leaving. He could stay a little longer. Come to that, why couldn’t he stay forever? He had nothing to get back to. He should have told Juniper that. Or was it that Juniper had somehow determined that he and Glory were sleeping together and considered that enough of a betrayal to take off? Add that to the father showing up, and it might have done it. Having so many people milling around and none of them actively searching made him nuts. When he was shed of the questions, he went to look for Glory and found her looking out the kitchen window at the oak tree. He put his arm around her. “I have an idea,” he said. “Want to hear it?”

  Her cheeks were wet with tears. “So long as it doesn’t end in tragedy.”

  “Juniper’s a teenager. A dreamer.”

  “So?”

  “So her destination doesn’t need to make logical sense. We need to think like her, approach things in her mind-set. Then we can make a list of places to look for her.”

  “But what if someone took her? Do they call Amber Alerts on fourteen-year-olds?”

  “Of course they do. They already have. Just listen to me a second. What if Juniper thinks there’s absolutely no possibility she can stay with you?”

  “Joseph, we already know that’s what she thinks.”

  “Okay, so where would she go to hide? Some place she felt safe when she was on the street. Where did they bust her shoplifting?”

  “That’s all the way in Pacific Grove. She can’t have gotten there in twelve hours, could she?”

  “Move over,” Lorna said, carrying another box of food in her arms. Bags of potato chips peeked out from the top. “Gotta send those men out with fuel.”

  Joseph caught her eye and tried to smile but it was no use for either of them. He turned back to Glory. “Any place she thinks of as her dream destination? Somewhere to visit someday? I’m just thinking out loud here.”

  “Stonehenge.” Glory rubbed her eyes. “Big Sur? She told me she wanted to camp by the redwoods. We talked about someday driving to Disneyland. Sometimes she talks about the house she grew up in, but it was torn down years ago. She loves the library, but it’s across the freeway. And she told me the day we spent at the beach was the best day of her life. Maybe the beach?”

  “What about places she hates? The group home, Caroline’s office, that therapist?”

  “Joseph! Driving G18 the othe
r day. It just hit me. We drove right past the place where Casey disappeared.”

  “I’ll be right back.” Joseph walked into the crowd of volunteer searchers to find the one in charge. “Can I see the topo map for a second?” Joseph pointed to the spot and said, “Try here.”

  In the kitchen, pouring Glory another cup of coffee, Lorna said, “When my sisters and I were teenagers, we fought all the time about things being fair. You know, who got a new pair of shoes or a bigger scoop of ice cream. We still play that game. Sisters. You can’t live with them, and then they’re gone and all you want is to share a room again and talk all night. She’s missing Casey. I think we’ve underestimated how broken Juniper is. What do you think, Joseph?”

  “I think it’s possible Juniper believes the only option to set things right is to let what happened to her sister happen to her.”

  Glory put her hands over her face. “That’s a horrible thought, Joseph. How can you even say that to me?”

  “Because if Juniper thinks there’s no other way to avoid her father than to disappear, that’s what she’ll do. It’s her decision, when all these other decisions are being made for her. She took the Percocet. She left the dog behind. Her clothes, her books are all here, waiting for your next foster. That right there is my biggest concern. People considering suicide leave their most valuable possessions behind.”

  Glory sat down at the table. Lorna put her hands on her shoulders and rubbed. Joseph said, “If you start crying, it will only make things worse. Save the tears for later, when we have our happy ending.”

  “What if we don’t get one?”

  He couldn’t answer her question without breaking her heart, so he said, “Come on, we’ll take the Land Cruiser. It has four-wheel drive. Grab some of her clothing and put Cadillac on leash. Bring some warm clothes. Her riding gloves, do you have them?”

  “They’re in the barn inside her jacket, unless she took it.”

  “We’ll get them and take them with us.”

  Glory seemed to notice for the first time that she was wearing flannel pajamas. “I have to change clothes.”

  “Let me come with you, honey,” Lorna said, and the two of them walked down the hallway.

  Joseph watched the Big Sur coastline screen saver on Glory’s computer while he paced. Juniper had begged him to show her his photos of the redwoods, but he told her no, not until the portfolio was complete. Edsel jumped at his knees, wanting attention. “I promise that later we’ll go pee on trees,” he said, and waked out back to get Juniper’s jacket. He whistled for Cadillac, called his name, whistled again, but the only dog in the yard was Dodge. “Load up,” Joseph said, and Dodge jumped up by himself into the Land Cruiser. Joseph went into the barn, but couldn’t find the jacket. Glory, dressed in jeans and boots and a turtleneck sweater, went in the barn and came out carrying a jacket. “Hers?”

  She nodded. “Gloves, too. Where’s Caddy?”

  Joseph started the car. Glory latched the gate behind her just in time for two detectives to block their way. “I thought he was with you. He wasn’t in the barn.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean I couldn’t find him.”

  Then it hit Joseph, like a punch in the stomach. This morning, when he came in the front door, Cadillac went out. He was already looking for Juniper. Joseph looked at his watch and tried to calculate how far the dog might’ve got.

  A policeman came to Joseph’s window and tapped on the glass. “Best thing you folks can do is stay put.”

  Joseph didn’t want to go through the interview again, but he didn’t want to lose this lead. “The dog’s missing. I may have accidentally let him out. We’re just going to look for him,” he said, his hands gripping the steering wheel.

  “Black-and-white dog?”

  “Yes, that’s him. Where did you see him?”

  “Yes,” Glory said. “Please, tell us which direction he went. Hurry.”

  The cop pointed toward the left fork of the county road. “When I was on my way here, I damn near hit the thing.”

  “Thank you.” Glory hung out the window calling, “Cadillac! Juniper!”

  Joseph drove down the driveway, veering across the lane to pass the cars that had amassed from two to—he counted—twenty in two hours. How could he ever make up for this? “Glory, I’m so sorry I let the dog out.”

  “What’s done is done.”

  “We’ll find him.”

  “I know.” Her words didn’t sound convincing. “If only that man had stayed gone four more years, she would be out in the world living her life instead of running away from it.”

  “It’s better he comes now.”

  “How? He made her run away from the one place where’s she’s felt safe. Maybe even made her want to kill herself.” Glory took out her cell phone. “I’m calling Caroline. Juniper’s father should know she’s missing, and that it’s his fault.”

  Joseph kept his eyes on the road, looking from side to side for the dog as they drove. He had that same bad feeling he had the day he and Rico were at the warehouse. A feeling he would sell his soul to erase because he knew it would haunt him forever.

  Ten minutes after Joseph had been wheeled into the OR, in that ridiculously short time, Rico had bled out. Not the biceps wound, no, but the glancing rib nick that looked fine on the X-ray. The bullet had apparently bruised his spleen. Just as Rico wouldn’t have taken a pain pill if his life depended on it, he would lend a hand to anyone who needed one. This was the worst part to Joseph, that his friend died standing in front of the hospital soda machine helping the vendor load up a case of Diet Dr Pepper. In lifting, his bruised spleen had torn. A four-inch organ weighing around five ounces. People survived without them all the time. When Rico’s spleen tore, he bled out in seconds. “He didn’t even have time to pop the top on the free soda the guy gave him,” someone said. “The damnedest thing. They said he was dead before he hit the floor.”

  A quarter mile before the boulder marking Casey’s trail, Glory screamed, “Stop the car!”

  Joseph slammed on the brakes and Dodge scrabbled for purchase. “What is it?”

  “A prescription bottle. There, by the side of the road.”

  Glory was out of the car in a heartbeat. Joseph figured it was a random piece of trash until Glory ran ahead to the S&R van. Joseph pulled over, put the car in park, grabbed Juniper’s jacket, and got Dodge out of the cargo area and snapped on his leash. “Find your brother, you can have steak for dinner every night from now on.”

  Glory came back to where he was standing. “Joseph. It’s mine, and it’s empty. Maybe she didn’t take them. Maybe she did, and then changed her mind.”

  “Let’s hope.”

  She reached out for Dodge’s leash. “I’ll walk a few feet into the woods.” She pursed her lips, but no sound came out. “Will you whistle, please? If Cadillac hears you, he might come back.”

  She hustled off at a pace Joseph couldn’t hope to match. “Please, God,” he said between whistles. “Please.”

  Watching the two Monterey County S&R climbers unload equipment, he thought he might be sick. The level one rescuers were dressed in identical forest-ranger-green clothing that reminded him of the academy training rookies who often jogged by the lab, stoic and determined. The S&R crew had the same kind of expressions. Forget what it feels like right now, he told himself. We’re in it for the long haul. They set ropes and pulleys and shouldered backpacks filled with bandages, water, and Mylar blankets, their walkie-talkies clipped to the packs and within easy reach. The civilian volunteers waiting to be called reminded Joseph of the plastic army men he played with when he was a kid, particularly the one in the kneeling pose always ready, never called upon.

  A half hour passed as S&R lowered their first climber down the side of the hill across from where Glory had found the amber Percocet bottle. They came back up, empty, just before Glory returned to the road with Dodge. “How many Percocet pills equal an overdose?” she asked Joseph.
<
br />   “Toxicity in opiates varies.”

  “The cops and the sheriff are fighting over who gets to keep the pill bottle for evidence. Any news from the climbers?”

  “They’ve cleared this area,” Joseph said. “They’re moving the ground search up one quarter of a mile.”

  “Cadillac,” she said, just that one word.

  “I know.” Joseph put his arm around her. Just as with Rico, he knew this was a burden he’d shoulder forever. They walked on.

  “Tell me how many pills it would take, Joseph. There were six in the bottle, ten milligrams each.”

  He blew out a breath. “Sixty milligrams is considered toxic.”

  Glory let out a cry. “Why didn’t I just get rid of it when she stole it the first time?”

  “Glory, we don’t know for certain that she took all the pills. She could’ve changed her mind, stuck a finger down her throat. A million other possibilities.”

  “Don’t you lie to me, Joseph Vigil,” Glory said, pointing at his chest. “What happens with an overdose? If I’m responsible for her last moments on earth, I have to know what happens.”

  Overhead, the sun beat down and Joseph could see it was burning her bare neck. “It would be peaceful. She’d just go to sleep.” He didn’t tell her it was the amount of acetaminophen that worried him. The risk of bradycardia, permanent liver damage. Things were so much more dangerous than he would let on, because that was the kindest thing to do. He’d learned that, at least, when he was a cop.

  By the boulder, the searchers began setting up their equipment again. How did they do it so quickly? he wondered. All of them working together.

  “I can’t just stand here, I have to move.” Glory walked across the road toward the S&R van, pulling herself under the yellow tape so she could get as close to the edge as possible. Joseph stood there and let her go.

  This time, when S&R pulled their first climber back up, he let out a woo-hoo, and everything changed. As soon as he was on level ground, he reached around his backpack and held up a Red Wing boot. “Size ten. Newspaper stuffed in the toe.”