by Rick Mofina
Gabrielle was wearing the flowered print dress her mother made especially for her sixth birthday, a few days away, but Gabrielle had pleaded to wear it today. Her mother gave in. Then Nancy Nunn plaited her daughter’s auburn hair into French braids, Gabrielle’s favorite. Now, whirling and laughing with her friends Tracey Tanner, Millie Palmer, and Rhonda King, whom everybody called Help-Me-Rhonda, Gabrielle was having a perfect day.
A dream day.
Round and round she went. Her stomach tingling as if an ecstatic butterfly were fluttering inside. She wanted to ride the carousel forever. But when they finished their third successive tour, Nancy Nunn, who was watching the girls, feared a fourth ride would be risky, given the amount of cake and ice cream they downed earlier.
“Can we catch up with the others now?” Millie Palmer asked.
Between the cake eating and the present opening, the party had separated into small groups, each chaperoned by an adult.
Some had gone to the Troll Bridge, some to the Mouse Tower. Wendy Sloane had taken Letty, Elaine, and three other girls to the Farmyard.
“Can we go to the Mouse Tower, Mrs. Nunn?” Tracey Tanner asked.
“No, the Farmyard!” Rhonda King said.
“Before we go anywhere, ladies, who has to go to the washroom?”
Millie and Rhonda shot up their hands.
Nancy herded her foursome to the nearest washroom. Millie and Rhonda each found a stall. Nancy put Gabrielle and Tracey before the mirrors to check their hair. Soon Millie came out of the stall to wash her hands. Minutes passed. Rhonda was taking a long time.
“Rhonda?” Nancy called, trying the stall door. It was locked.
“Oh, Mrs. Nunn, I don’t feel good,” Rhonda moaned. The other girls looked at each other. “I feel like I’m going to--”
Rhonda retched and vomited. The girls grimaced.
Rhonda coughed violently.
At Nancy’s insistence, Millie, the group’s smallest member, scooted under the stall and unlocked the door. Rhonda was on the toilet in tears, her panties around her ankles. Humiliated. Nancy held her trembling hand, dabbed her tears with a crumpled tissue, brushed her hair from her eyes.
“Oh, sweetheart, don’t worry.”
“Gross,” Tracey said.
“It’s going to be fine, dear,” Nancy assured Rhonda. “Tracey, please get me some paper towels soaked in cold water and some dry ones. Girls, stay by me while we help Rhonda.”
“But Mom, it’s so gross!” Gabrielle complained.
“Stay here, Gabrielle,” Nancy ordered over her shoulder while helping Rhonda pull up her underwear. “Rhonda sweetie, this happens to every little girl, so don’t you worry.”
Tracey gave Nancy the paper towels. None of the girls teased Rhonda about her nickname as Nancy cleaned her up. They stood by for support, except for Gabrielle. The acrid order overwhelmed her.
Gabrielle did not want to be sick herself. Lured by the carousel’s organ puffing a new polka, she took it upon herself to wait outside the washroom. She stood alone, watching the revolving animals, the dreamy horses, the chariots, the rocker, the turning tub. Mom should be pleased. After all, she was a big girl. A smile was blooming on Gabrielle’s face when suddenly a shadow fell over her.
“You are Gabrielle?”
A tall man with a beard, dark glasses, and a ball cap smiled down at her. She didn’t know him, but he had a friendly, soft voice. Had to be one of the dads from the party, she guessed.
“You are Gabrielle Nunn whose dad is Paul, a firefighter, and your mom is Nancy.”
Gabrielle didn’t realize she was nodding.
“Let’s talk over here.” The man took her aside, glancing at the snapshot in his hand, giving it to her. “This would be your pup?”
Gabrielle’s eyes widened and her jaw dropped open.
“Yes! It’s my dog, Jackson! Where is he?”
“In my truck.” The man nodded down the hill toward the parking lot. “Your folks wanted me to bring him to you for your birthday surprise. Happy birthday, Gabrielle.”
“But it’s Joannie’s birthday today. Mine is in a few days.”
“Boy did I mess up. I’m sorry, Gabrielle. Please don’t tell anybody. Please.” He looked around. Everyone near them was watching the carousel. “I gotta go before anyone sees me,” he said, holding out his hand for the snapshot.
“Gabrielle!” her mother called from the washroom.
“Just waiting by the door, Mom. I feel better here.”
Gabrielle pulled the picture to her chest.
She was disarmed. Whatever innate shield she had against strangers evaporated as she thrilled not with doubt but delight in the belief Jackson was nearby. If she could just hold him again.
“Wait, mister. Can’t I just see him? Please?”
The man rubbed his beard thoughtfully.
“I won’t tell anybody, I promise. Please?”
“Just a quick secret peek?”
“Yes. A secret peek.”
“Gabrielle!” Her mother’s voice echoed from the washroom along with Rhonda’s whimpering.
“I’m okay, Mom, I’m just waiting outside the door!” Gabrielle called. Then to the man she whispered breathlessly: “Oh, please, let’s hurry!”
“Okay. Count to ten, then follow me quickly to my truck. Don’t let anybody see you. Just a quick, secret peek.”
The man walked away.
Counting to ten, Gabrielle heard Rhonda retch. Her mother was going to take forever in there. She could cuddle Jackson in secret and be back before her mother missed her, if she hurried.
Gabrielle followed the man from the carousel, down the hill to the parking lot.
TWENTY-NINE
Behold the Seraph’s face.
The Angel appeared in the distance. A celestial vision.
Edward Keller stood at his truck, the driver’s door open, Gabrielle nearing him. Smiling. Empowered by God. The Angel-child. Immortal. All-knowing. Radiant with the glory and the calm.
I am cleansed in the light of the Lord!
Keller was overcome, blinking back tears.
From inside the truck’s cab, Jackson saw Gabrielle approaching and barked. The rope around his neck was knotted to the passenger door’s arm rest. Keller had long ago removed the door’s inside handle and lock button. The passenger door could not be opened from the inside.
Gabrielle ran to the truck.
Keller stepped aside, leaving a clear path to Jackson.
Gabrielle hesitated, a tiny wave of unease rippling through her. She wanted to hold Jackson so badly it hurt, yet something was out of place. She didn’t know what it was. Like the time she glimpsed a solitary tuft of black mingled with Santa’s white hair at the Stonestown Mall. She didn’t know what to do, so she kept it a secret. What about now? She was not worried about the kidnapper, like her mom, because this man was her dad’s friend. She was sure about that because Jackson was right there. She just didn’t want to get the man, or herself, in trouble. She glanced back at the carousel.
“Maybe I should tell my mom?”
“I suppose, but it would ruin the surprise.”
Jackson yapped, and wagged his tail. He was so cute.
“My other door’s broken there. Won’t open. Go on in this way and see your pup. Never seen a dog in more fierce need of a hug.”
Jackson panted, moving as close to her as the rope permitted.
“Okay a quick hug, then I’ll go back and keep it a secret.”
She crawled into the cab along the bench seat and embraced Jackson, nuzzling his face, giggling as he licked hers.
“I missed you so much. You naughty doggie running away from me!”
Leaving the door open, Keller slipped in behind the wheel, and casually kneaded the dog’s neck.
“My name’s Ned Jenkins. I live on the other side of the park. I found your little fella in my garage the other day.”
“In your garage?”
“Yes ma’am. Seems he got h
imself pinned under a pile of junk. Luckily there was a big old bag of dog cereal I had left there. My old dog Fred died awhile ago.” Keller saw little traffic in this corner of the lot. “This fella’s got lots of spark. He tore into the cereal, kept himself alive. Seems like a real nice little guy and he’s no worse for wear.”
Gabrielle gave Jackson a bone-crushing hug.
“Thanks for letting me in on the surprise, Mr. Jenkins. I better get back now. It’s going to be hard waiting for my birthday, but I promise to keep our secret.”
Keller didn’t move. He produced a worn copy of Jackson’s missing-reward poster the Nunns had put up weeks ago.
“Your notice here says there’s a reward?”
“Yes. Fifty dollars. It’s at home at my house.”
Keller thought. “Well since Jackson’s return is no surprise anymore I might as well get my reward. What the heck?”
Gabrielle didn’t understand.
“But it’s at my house and Dad and Ryan went to Coit Tower.”
“I’m sorry, Gabrielle, I forgot to tell you that your dad was meeting me at your house. I told you I know him from the station.”
But wasn’t this supposed to stay a surprise?
“Look, we’ll drive to your place, tell your dad about my screw-up. It will be all right, don’t worry. Paul will get a laugh. I’m always messing up at the station. Then I’ll get my reward and your dad will drive you back to the party here.”
Gabrielle looked toward the carousel.
“You were telling the truth about the reward, weren’t you?”
She nodded, hugging Jackson to her chest.
“I want to pick it up now because I’m going out of town on business tonight and I’ll be gone for a long time.”
Keller slammed his door, started the engine, surprising Gabrielle, flooding her mind with confusion. Before she knew what was happening, the truck rolled out of the lot and down Kezar Drive.
“This will only take a second. You’re safe with me.”
“But I just don’t know.” In a whisper, more to herself than to Keller, Gabrielle said, “I don’t want to get into trouble.” She buried her face in Jackson’s neck, squeezing him until he yelped. She caressed him as they left Golden Gate Park.
I don’t want to get into trouble.
THIRTY
“Gabrielle!”
All of the saliva in Nancy Nunn’s mouth dried up as fear slithered down her throat.
“GABRIELLE!”
Nancy came out of the washroom with Rhonda, Tracey, and Millie expecting to find Gabrielle at the entrance. But she wasn’t there. She was gone.
Again Nancy took a speed-of-light inventory of the area. No sign of Gabrielle. Nothing.
“Maybe she went to the Troll Bridge, Mrs. Nunn?” Tracey said.
“Maybe she went to see the others?” Millie said.
Not my kid. My kid knows better to wander from me like this.
Nancy grabbed Millie’s hand, then Rhonda’s. She made Tracey jump when she ordered her to take Rhonda’s free hand. Nancy’s terrified heart was on the verge of bursting through her chest. She scoured the carousel. The organ was playing a funeral march, the revolving animals mocking her with accusing silence.
Why weren’t you watching your child?
“Mrs. Nunn, you’re squeezing my hand too tight. It hurts!”
Nancy questioned people nearby. “Have you seen a little girl in a flowered dress?”
Puzzled stares. Heads shaking.
“She was standing here! You must have seen her!”
Eyes stared at her as if she were insane.
“My little girl is missing, somebody help me please!”
“Nancy, what’s going on?” It was Wendy Sloane. Worried.
Her group of girls huddled around Nancy and the others. Smiles dying on their faces.
“Nancy!”
“G-Gabrielle’s gone.”
“What?”
“She’s missing. We were in the washroom together. She wandered out ahead of us. A few seconds ahead. She’s gone. Wendy, I don’t know--”
“Nancy, she can’t have gone far.”
“I-I don’t...I should have been watching. If anything. Oh, God.”
“Stop it.” Wendy grabbed Nancy’s shoulders. “We’ll find--”
Two teenage girls stood awkwardly next to Nancy, uncomfortable, not comprehending exactly what was happening.
“We saw a little girl in a flowered dress near the washroom.”
“Where is she?” Nancy barked.
One of the girls flinched.
“She was talking to a man--”
Nancy’s stomach heaved. “Where did she go! Where!”
“Well, I think--”
“Hurry up!” Nancy’s voice was breaking.
“The man went that way.” One of the girls pointed toward the parking lot. “Then the little girl followed him. Two minutes ago.”
Nancy jumped as if something had exploded under her feet, running to the parking lot. Breathless, she went to the first person she saw in the lot. A man wearing a green John Deere ball cap, in his early seventies, was shutting the driver’s door on his camper.
“Please help me. My little girl’s missing. She came this way, wearing a flowered dress. Have you seen her?”
“I don’t think so. We just got here, right, Mother?”
Seeing Nancy distraught, the white-haired woman on the other side of the camper approached her and took her arm.
“What’s wrong, dear?”
“My daughter’s been abducted. A man led her this way a few minutes ago. Oh, help me!”
“Arthur, quick, find a policeman!”
The man headed dutifully to a pay phone.
Nancy searched parked cars, frantically screaming Gabrielle’s name. The woman followed helplessly. Across the lot, a tall, well-dressed man stepped from a Mercedes and jogged to Nancy.
“Lady, what’s wrong?”
“My daughter’s been abducted by a man who brought her this way. Please, have you seen her?”
“I did see a little girl walking around here a few minutes ago.”
“Yes!”
“Hair braided, her dress kind of pinkish?”
“That’s her! Where did she go? Tell me, please!”
He looked intently over Nancy’s head at the lot and Kezar Drive. He had been in his car, talking business over his phone.
“I saw the little girl talking to a man at a battered old pickup truck. There was a little blond dog inside the truck.”
“What?”
Nancy covered her mouth with both hands, her mind reeling with a thousand horrors. Jackson. Jackson was a little blond dog. Remembering Paul believing Jackson didn’t run away. Somebody stole him. I don’t know why but I know for sure he didn’t run away.
Apprehension swept over the man’s face as he steeled himself.
“She got into the truck with the man and he drove off.”
Nancy’s head spun. The woman caught her, steadying her.
The man realized he could do something. “I’ve got a phone. I’ll call 9-1-1! I’ll drive around after the truck, lady, wait here!”
Nancy fell to her knees, seeing nothing, hearing nothing, feeling nothing, not even the strange older woman whose strong arms held her so tightly they kept her from falling off the earth.
THIRTY-ONE
Standing at the living room window of her stucco bungalow, Eva Blair was curious about the strange truck that had stopped in front of the Walker place across the street. Nobody got out of the truck. The engine was idling. Looked like a man and--Eva could just make out a little head--a child. A bearded man talking, no, arguing, with a child. It was none of her business. She was being an old busybody.
But something strange was going on.
Eva could just make out part of the truck’s rear plate. California. “B” or “8” or “E”. It was a battered old pickup. A Ford, according to the tailgate. The man seemed angry. There was a glint
of metal in the cab. A knife? Did the man have a knife? Goodness! What in the world was he doing? Now he was tossing something out the window. She should call the police. The truck was filthy, neglected, a disgrace.
The engine growled and the truck sped away.
An ominous feeling came over Eva and she decided, for good measure, to jot down what she could remember of the truck. She slipped on her bifocals, left her house by the front door, and started across the street toward the spot where the truck had stopped. Something was on the sidewalk.
Eva gasped. A mound. A small, fluffy, heap of...hair. Human hair, beautiful chestnut hair. She bent over to examine it closely, gasping before hurrying back to her house to call the police.
The hair was dotted with fresh blood.
THIRTY-TWO
God be praised.
Keller had left Golden Gate Park without a hitch. Gabrielle was as quiet as a lamb, hugging her pathetic mutt.
“You are a radiant Angel.” He could not take his eyes from her.
“Thank you, Mr. Jenkins.”
Keller had been checking his rearview mirror every few seconds since they left the park. No hint of trouble. Time to shift things into high gear. “Say, Gabrielle, it’s pretty hot. Want a soda?”
“Yes, please!”
Keller fished through a canvas knapsack behind the seat, producing a can. “I’ll open it for you.”
“Thank you.” Gabrielle took the can from him, gulped a huge swallow. It was cold. She let Jackson lick some from her hand. “Bad doggie.” She wagged a warning finger at him. “Don’t you ever run away from me again!”
“I bet you believe in God, say your prayers every night?”
She nodded as the truck jerked over a pothole.
“Goodness. You spilled some on your dress. We’ll have to stop so I can clean it for you.”
Gabrielle looked at her dress and saw no stain. “I don’t think I spilled any, Mr. Jenkins.”
“Yes, you did. I’ll get it for you, as soon as I find a safe place to stop. Up there looks good.”
Keller spotted a house with a FOR SALE sign. It looked empty. Neighborhood was quiet. He had to do this now, couldn’t wait any longer. It was still several miles to Wintergreen Heights. He stopped in front of the house and left the engine running.
