by Leslie Gould
Elise started the engine of the Toyota; other parents stood outside the locker room waiting for their kids, chatting together. Were they talking about her? What was taking the boys so long? She pulled out the envelope from Rebekah and opened the card. Call me anytime. I want to help. Reid pushed the door open, and Patrick put his arm around his son’s shoulder as they walked around the side of the gym.
The door swung open again, and Michael hurried to the 4Runner.
“Where’s Mark?”
Michael turned to the backseat and then shrugged. “I thought he was out here.”
Elise shook her head.
“He never came into the locker room, Mom.”
Elise pressed her fingers against her temples. “He must have gone straight home.”
Mark’s jersey was wadded in the middle of the garage. She pulled in over it. His cleats were in the kitchen, and his pants were on the staircase. She surveyed his room. His running shoes and black hoodie were gone. She hurried back down the stairs to the garage, followed by Michael. Mark had dumped his helmet in the corner, where his bike belonged.
Dear Lord, what do I do now? Elise knelt on the concrete and pulled his jersey from beneath the 4Runner.
“Boy is he in trouble.” Michael whistled and headed back into the house.
Elise pulled her keys from her pocket. Maybe Michael could spend the night at Rebekah’s so Elise could search for Mark. Her other choice was to call John. She hurried into the kitchen and picked up the phone. “Rebekah, it’s Elise.”
“What’s wrong?” Rebekah sounded tired.
“It’s Mark. I can’t find him. I’m sure he’s just hiding again, but his bike is gone.”
“Did you call the police?”
“I’m going to in just a minute. I was wondering if Michael could spend the night at your house so I can look for Mark.”
“Sure. Bring him out. I’ll go with you to look for Mark.”
“No, that’s okay.”
“Elise, don’t be ridiculous. Of course I’ll go with you.”
“Did you call John?” Rebekah asked as she climbed behind the wheel of her truck. She had insisted on driving.
Elise shook her head. “I think he’s fed up with Mark after tonight.”
“What about Ted?”
“I left a message on his cell.”
Elise liked to tell Ted everything. She had heard of an army wife who didn’t tell her husband she was diagnosed with breast cancer until he came home from Iraq. How brave, Elise had first thought. Now she realized how bizarre that was. How had the husband felt when he got home?
Rebekah slowed as they passed the school. “Would he go back to the football field?”
“I don’t think so.” Elise squinted into the dark night.
Rebekah stopped at the city park, and the two women shone their flashlights along the creek bank, through the playground, and into the covered picnic area. Elise bent down and looked under the tables, waving the flashlight back and forth.
Her cell rang. She fumbled the phone from her pocket, sure it was Mark. It was the officer on patrol asking if she had found her son.
“We can go ahead and file a missing child report. I can meet you at your house or the station.”
Rebekah dropped Elise off at the police station. “Drive north,” Elise suggested. “Maybe he decided to head to Seattle.” Elise climbed out of the rig. “Thank you, Rebekah.”
Rebekah nodded, her ponytail swinging back and forth. “I’ll come back in half an hour.”
Elise pulled the 4Runner into the garage. Mark’s bike was still missing. Pain pulsed through her lower back. They had searched every alley and roof in town and twenty miles to the north. Elise put her flashlight and purse on the kitchen counter. Rebekah said not to worry about Michael, that she would put him on the bus with her kids.
Elise hunted through the house again: in her bedroom, behind the couch in the family room, in the hall closet, in Mark’s room, in Michael’s room. She walked into the backyard and blew her breath into the cold night. Was Mark warm? Was he safe? She stepped backward to the fence and scanned the roofline. No Mark. Before she had kids, she imagined that being a mom would come naturally to her. But now she wasn’t so sure. Had she been too permissive with Mark? too strict? too demanding? not demanding enough?
Rebekah had assured her that she’d never heard of a child being abducted in Forest Falls. Mark would be fine. It was just a matter of his coming home or their finding him. Numbly, she reached into her coat pocket for her phone and called Ted again. No answer. Was he still in the air? Had his flight been further delayed?
She tried one more time.
“Hello.”
“Ted!”
The phone cut out, then came back. “I’m in Frankfurt—” It cut out again.
He had arrived. She paced up and down the patio and then punched the speed dial a third time.
“Hello.”
“Mark is missing.”
“Pardon?”
“Mark.” She tilted her head back to look at the stars.
“He’s hiding?”
“I don’t know. He’s been gone since last night.”
“Elise—” The phone cut out again.
She rubbed her hand over her face and shuffled back into the empty house to start the coffee. She would wait ten more minutes; hopefully Ted would be out of the airport by then. She sat at the kitchen table, her arms wrapped around her coat, around her body, shivering, aching for her husband. Had she ever felt so alone?
A head passed the kitchen window, and footsteps fell on the porch. She rushed to the door. It was John.
“Ted called. He told me to get over here—although he didn’t say it that nicely.”
What did Ted expect his dad to do? Save the day?
Elise’s cell rang. “Dad’s on his way.” Ted sounded out of breath.
“He’s here.”
The landline rang. John stood in the middle of the room, his hands in the pockets of his leather jacket. “Here.” Elise tossed him her cell. “Talk to Ted.”
She grabbed the phone off the coffee table, expecting the police.
It was Rebekah, sounding too chipper. “Hey, I decided to do the chores when I got home, so I came out to the barn.”
John held up the cell and shrugged.
Rebekah continued. “I heard something stir in Sky’s stall. I thought maybe the calico had her kittens. But—”
“Mark! He’s at your place?” She had been over that road four times tonight. Why hadn’t she seen him?
John crossed his arms.
“Yep. He’s still sprawled out in Sky’s stall. The horse is standing over him.”
“I’ll be right there.” She would get Mark, bring him home, and send him to bed, and then she would cry. He was safe. And then when he woke up, she would … She wasn’t sure what she would do, not yet.
“Elise.” Rebekah’s voice grew fainter. “There’s a problem. He doesn’t want to go home.”
Elise turned away from John. “What do you mean?”
“He wants to stay here.”
Elise put her hand on her hip. What did it matter what Mark wanted?
“You know, I used to work with troubled teens. Sometimes they need a breather. He could stay here for the day and cool off, maybe ride the horses. Sandi is going to work at the shop today while I catch up on things around here.”
“Thanks, but he needs to come home.” Elise hurried into the kitchen and grabbed her purse and keys. “I’m on my way, Rebekah. Thanks so much for your help.”
“I’ll go with you.” John picked up his keys.
“No. It’s fine. You go home and go back to bed.” She would call the police officer on her way to Rebekah’s.
“Bed? It’s 5:00 a.m.”
“I can handle this. I’ll deal with him after he’s gotten some sleep.”
“That boy needs a strong hand.”
“I agree with you.” Elise dangled her keys.
“Then let’s go.”
John would scold Mark the whole way and then tell him to shower and get ready for school, maybe throw in a hundred push-ups for good measure. Mark would be embarrassed and sneak into bed and feign sleep. And then what? John would pull him out of bed? Yank him onto the floor? Drag him down the stairs?
“Elise.” John started after her and then stopped in the doorway between the kitchen and the garage.
She slammed the door to the 4Runner and turned the key. Nothing. She checked the headlight knob. It was on; she hadn’t heard the warning chime, and the truck was too old to have an automatic shutoff switch.
“Elise, I’ll drive you.” John crossed his arms. “What other choice do you have?”
Rebekah swung a bale from the stack. The dim lights of the barn and clean smell of the cedar shavings soothed her exhaustion. She cut the wire and carried a bundle of hay between her gloved hands and tossed it into Sky’s stall. Golden straw landed on Mark’s black sweatshirt.
“Mark, wake up.” She stood on the bottom rail. “Your mom is on her way.”
He bolted to his feet, flinging his arm against Sky’s rump. The horse sidestepped away from the wild-eyed boy. Rebekah didn’t envy Elise one bit when it came to raising this kid.
He sank to his knees, and Sky sniffed his head.
“Do you like my barn?” Rebekah stepped down and crossed her arms.
Mark shrugged his shoulders.
“Do you mind the smell of horse manure?” She wiped her boot on the rail.
“You’re weird.”
“I know.” Rebekah smiled. Her grandfather had asked her the same question all those years ago, but he hadn’t use the word manure.
Mark shrugged. “It smells okay. I don’t know. It doesn’t really smell.”
“Reid thinks it stinks.”
“So does Michael.”
“Pepper thinks it smells good.”
Mark nodded.
“My grandpa said that you can tell a horseperson by how they answer that question.”
“Can I go back to sleep?” Mark slumped in the hay.
“As long as you wake up when your mom gets here. She’s taking you home.”
“I don’t want to go home.” Mark put his head in his hands.
“I know.” Rebekah leaned over the rail. “But your mom is worried sick. She’s been out looking for you all night. So have the police.”
Mark shrugged.
“Didn’t you know she would be scared to death?”
Moon shapes sagged under Mark’s watery brown eyes.
“Where’s your bike?”
“Behind the barn.” He flipped his hair over his eyes.
Rebekah leaned against the rail. “Would you like to ride one of the horses sometime?”
Mark groaned. “My mom’s going to kill me.”
“She hasn’t killed you yet, so she probably won’t today.”
Mark leaned back against a bale of hay and pulled his hood over his head.
Rebekah poured oats into the mare’s trough. “What would you do, girl?” she whispered. “What would you do if Sky were such a handful?” Rebekah had seen so many well-meaning parents rush and take charge of their kids when what they really needed to do was listen. You had to have a relationship with the kid; that was the most important thing.
The mare snorted.
“Is that right, girl?” Rebekah rubbed between the horse’s ears. “Do you think that controlling a kid is like controlling a horse?” You had to gain the horse’s trust; that was most important.
A car door slammed. Then another.
“Mark? Rebekah?” Elise pushed open the door. John stood behind her.
Mark hid his head in his arms.
Rebekah stepped out into the middle of the barn, surprised to see John. “Hi! Hey, John.”
John stood in the middle of the barn with his arms crossed. “Mark—,” he began.
Elise interrupted by putting a hand on John’s arm. “Rebekah,” she said quietly, still holding John’s arm, “where’s Mark’s bike?”
“Out behind the barn.”
Elise turned to John. “Could you go get it?”
John looked a little longer at Mark and then headed toward the back door of the barn. Rebekah had to admit she was impressed by Elise’s quiet strength.
“Come on, Mark.” Elise leaned against the railing. Sky turned and brushed his nose against Elise’s arm.
“I don’t want to go home.”
Rebekah swallowed hard.
“Grandpa’s going to kill me.” Mark put his head in his hands.
“Well, not this morning anyway. He promised to wait until after you get some more sleep.” Elise’s elbows must have been digging into the top rail of the stall, but she didn’t move away from her son.
Mark stood and rubbed Sky’s neck. “Did you call Dad?”
Elise nodded.
“Is Michael okay?” Mark stood and walked toward his mother.
Elise nodded a third time. She reached out and stroked Mark’s hair. Amazingly, he didn’t pull away.
“I didn’t mean to hit him.”
“How could you not have meant to hit him?” Elise asked quietly. “You punched him in the mouth.”
“How’s your hand?” Rebekah butted in.
Elise looked at her with steady eyes. Rebekah stepped back. Clearly Elise had things under control. Should she leave? Go help John with the bike?
Mark shrugged, pressing the gauze against his sweatshirt, his eyes focused past his mother and on Rebekah. “You know how Michael and Reid are always bugging me about not passing. I get so nervous during a game. All I can think to do is run.”
Rebekah nodded. It was his way of saying he was sorry—to both of them.
“Come on, Mark.” Elise opened the stall gate. “Let’s go home.”
Rebekah sat at her computer with their bank account open. She had finished the chores and let the horses into the pasture.
Patrick’s slippers slapped against the dining room floor and into the kitchen. “Good morning.” He tied his burgundy robe as he headed toward the coffee maker. “What are you working on?”
“Bills.” Rebekah yawned.
Patrick shook his head. “Did Elise find Mark?”
“He was hiding. He’s okay.”
“Where was he?”
“In our barn.”
Patrick stood with the pot of water in midair. “Why was he in our barn?”
“He felt safe there, and he likes the smell.”
Patrick shook his head. “Right.”
Rebekah logged out of the account. She would work on bills when she wasn’t so tired. “Remember, I’m taking Pepper to her 4:30 doctor’s appointment today. And then the transplant class is tomorrow.” Rebekah yawned again.
“I have a late meeting today.” Patrick measured out the coffee.
“I’ll ask Elise if Reid can go to their house after practice.”
“Do you think he’s safe there? With Mark?”
“Patrick, don’t be ridiculous.” Rebekah pushed back her desk chair.
“That kid’s a loose cannon.” Patrick flipped the switch on the coffee maker.
“I think he’s just having a hard time, with Ted leaving and everything. Besides, Sky likes him.” She stood. “Patrick, show the kid some grace.” She stretched as she pushed her computer chair closer to the desk with her knee. “By the way, we both need to go to the transplant class.”
“I’ll take tomorrow off.”
“Mom!” Pepper pounded down the stairs.
Rebekah hurried toward the dining room. “What is it?”
“There are raccoons in the tree outside my window! Make them leave.” Pepper’s shiny hair flew around her face.
“Good grief.” Patrick stood in the kitchen doorway.
Rebekah headed up the stairs.
“What’s with her?” Reid stood against the hallway wall. “I thought we were having an earthquake.”
Rebekah banged
on Pepper’s window. Three raccoons, a mother and two smaller ones, ran along the branch of the big leaf maple.
“Mom, look!” Pepper screamed as she pointed down the road, through the yellow and orange leaves of the tree. Sky was trotting up the road. A logging truck was barreling down the hill toward him.
Elise eased onto a dining room chair, careful to sit straight, and pulled the box of photos toward her. Reid and Michael would be here in half an hour. She was thankful that Rebekah had asked if Reid could hang out at their house. She had been afraid the Grahams might want to keep their kids away from Mark. What punishment should Mark have? Community service for involving the police? Being grounded for a month? No television, computer, or video games for two months?
“Elise?” John knocked on the front door as he swung it open.
She hurried toward the entryway. Mark’s breakfast dishes were still in the sink, and the drapes were still closed. She caught her image in the dining room mirror. No makeup, pale skin, and drip-dried hair.
“I came to jump Ted’s rig.” John held his hand out. “I need your key.”
“I can call Triple A.” She had meant to call hours ago.
“Let me do it.”
She opened the foyer table drawer. “I’ll help you push it out of the garage.” She kicked off a slipper.
“I have a charge box.”
“Oh.”
“How’s Mark?” John asked.
“He’s asleep.”
“What is his punishment going to be?”
“I’m going to talk to Ted about it when he calls.”
John headed to his truck. Sandi sat on the passenger side. Elise shut the front door and then chided herself. She didn’t need to be obviously rude. She kicked off her slippers, stepped into her gardening clogs, and headed outside.
Sandi opened her window. “Hi.”
Elise waved. “How are you?”
“Fine. Sounds like you’ve had some excitement.”
Elise smiled. Did the whole town know? “It all worked out okay,” she said.
“I helped at the Scrap Shack this morning so Rebekah could get some things done at home. She had to close the shop early this afternoon to take Pepper to Portland.”
