Her father sensed her bewilderment. He poured a glass of milk for her and said, “We’re doing the best we can to find his family. They must be looking for him too. Between all of us I’m sure we’ll have this . . . this situation resolved shortly enough.”
Rachel slammed her coffee cup down into its saucer. She pushed her chair back and left the room. Tatiana stared at her retreating figure.
“Why is Mommy so mad?” she asked.
“I don’t know, honey,” Eric said. “Don’t you worry about it. Finish your breakfast so you can get ready for Mass.”
He left the kitchen, passing Olivia on his way to the master bedroom. She was already dressed, and she gave him a good-morning kiss. Upstairs, Eric found Rachel sitting at her vanity, putting on makeup with short, angry gestures.
“Why did you say that?” she demanded.
“What?” Eric asked, opening the closet to find a suit. “I don’t understand what made you angry, Rachel.”
“You called Steven a ‘situation’!”
Eric carried his suit to the bed.
“Don’t twist my words,” he said. “Having Steven here as a guest is a ‘situation.’ I certainly didn’t mean to insult the child. He’s a nice kid. But it bothers me that you seem to think you’ll have him indefinitely. He isn’t our child, Rachel. You can’t let yourself become too attached to him.”
Rachel turned on him, a tube of mascara held like a weapon.
“Someone has to care for him!” she cried. “At least I have feelings. The poor child is all alone!”
Eric was silent for a moment. His voice was soft when he spoke again.
“Yes, I suppose he is,” he said. “Especially now that Nina Blair is dead.”
“She didn’t mean anything to him,” Rachel said. “She wasn’t his mother.”
Eric was about to say “neither are you.” But he thought better of it and concentrated on dressing. When he finished, he said, “I’ll go down and get the car ready.”
Neither of the adults realized their voices had carried out the vent in their wall and into Tatiana’s room. Steven lay awake on the bed, listening to them. They were fighting about him, and he was worried. Even though he had been here only a day, it seemed he was already causing trouble for this family. But how could that be? He just knew that somehow he belonged to these people! He only wished he could remember more.
The door opened just then, and Tatiana came in. Steven quickly blinked away the tears that were rising in his brown eyes. Tati looked at him.
“You’re lucky,” she said. “You don’t have to go to Mass. I think church is boring.”
Steven sat up on the bed.
“I think I’d like church,” he said.
“Yeah, I guess you would,” Tati said almost accusingly. “You probably know all the music.”
She opened her drawers and put an outfit together.
“Can you go away?” she asked. “I don’t want any boy looking at me when I’m getting dressed!”
“Sorry,” Steven said, getting up from the bed.
He found his suitcase and pulled out some clothes. When he’d been found a few days earlier, he’d had this suitcase with him and little else. He took his clothes into the bathroom and dressed.
When he came out, Rachel was standing in the hall. She had a beige suit on, with a brown-and-yellow print blouse. The jacket lapel was decorated with a golden musical note. Steven noticed she held a pile of sheet music in her arms.
“I sing in the choir,” she said.
“Can I come along?”
“Not this time, Steven,” Rachel said. “I think meeting all those people would be too overwhelming. But don’t worry, Helga is here if you need anything.”
From downstairs Olivia called to her mother and sister.
“Tati! Mama! Hurry! Daddy’s waiting!”
Tatiana raced by Rachel and Steven like a small tornado.
Rachel smiled at Steven.
“We’ll be back in about an hour,” she said. “Just enjoy yourself. The backyard is plenty big enough for exploring.”
After Rachel left, Steven went to the kitchen and had breakfast.
“Please don’t dillydally,” Helga said. “I have much to do, and I am not used to having a boy in the house.”
“Mrs. Freleng said I can play outside,” Steven said.
“This is good,” Helga said with a nod.
Steven finished his breakfast quickly, sensing she didn’t want him underfoot. There were plenty of outdoor toys to enjoy, but after a while he grew bored with them. He felt very lonely, and in his solitude he recalled the fight Rachel and Eric had had.
He couldn’t drive their words from his mind, no matter how hard he tried. Maybe he could play music. . . .
No, Helga had made it clear he was to stay away.
At that moment he heard an unusual bird dry. Curious about what creature would make such a melodious sound, he decided to investigate the woods that marked the farther boundary of the huge backyard.
The pine scent of evergreens was laced through with the smell of spring blossoms. Steven was able to identify a number of scents separately, although he did not do this consciously. His brain registered juniper, blue spruce, lilacs, heather, and more. But there was one that did not seem to belong here: an unpleasant, burnt smell.
At once Steven knew what it must be: fire. He broke into a run, tracking the scent as easily as a hunting dog. It was a physical ability like his penchant for math and music, and he did it without much thought. He stopped short in a small clearing, where a boy who seemed to be a little older than he sat smoking. The boy turned around so fast that Steven stepped back.
“Get lost!” the boy demanded.
Steven stared at the cigarette, not exactly sure what it was. The boy sucked on it and the tip glowed red.
“You’re going to start a fire,” Steven said.
“I said ‘get lost,’ “ the boy, Ralphie Mercken, snapped. “It’s none of your effin’ business what I do.”
Steven wouldn’t be put off.
“But what are you doing?” he asked, curious. “What’s that thing in your hand?”
“Well, it sure as hell ain’t my . . .”
Ralphie stopped, looked down at the cigarette, then back at Steven in disbelief.
“You’re kidding, right?”
Steven shook his head.
“What are you, dumb or something?” he asked, “It’s a cigarette, stupid.”
He flicked the butt onto the ground.
“And this,” he said, indicating the clearing, “is my private place. So just turn yourself around and get out.”
Steven thought about it, then shook his head.
“I don’t think so,” he said. “I think this is still the Freleng’s property. So you’re the one who must leave.”
Ralphie came up to Steven with his fists balled. He stood a head taller and weighed at least twenty pounds more than the younger boy.
“Are you gonna make me?”
Without waiting for an answer, he grabbed Steven by the shirt collar and lifted the boy until they were nose-to-nose. Steven did not waste a moment. In one fluid motion he brought his fists down on both of the boy’s shoulders, and his knee up into the bully’s groin. Ralphie screamed, letting him go. Steven backed away and watched him thrash on the ground, amazed at what he had just done.
The bully looked up at Steven with brimming eyes.
“You know effin’ karate?”
“What’s that?”
“Jerk,” Ralphie growled. “I’m gonna kill you for this!”
Steven just stood and watched him. It didn’t occur to him to turn and run away. In his mind, he had more right to be here than the bigger boy.
Suddenly Ralphie found his strength. He picked up a fallen branch and came running after Steven, ready to hurt him. Steven backed away now, but too late. The branch swung toward him . . .
. . . and somehow stopped just inches from his head.
&n
bsp; “What the . . . ?”
Ralphie struggled to move his arm, still wielding the stick up high, but he couldn’t. It was as if some invisible hand had taken hold of his wrist.
“What are you doing to me?” he cried. “Cut it out!”
“I’m not . . .”
The wind began to blow, gently at first, tossing the detritus on the forest floor. But within seconds it began to pick up speed, rocking small branches and knocking leaves from the trees. And as Steven stood watching him, Ralphie Mercken went completely ashen. Something dark and nameless began to surround him, a sense of fear so palpable it seemed to be carried on the wind itself.
Ralphie, never so terrified in his life, began to scream.
Something’s coming for me! Something’s coming to get me!
“I’m gonna die!”
The wind blew furiously, knocking the stick from Ralphie’s hand. Inexplicable fear had turned him from a bully to a frightened little boy, and he gazed at Steven with pleading eyes.
“Don’t let it hurt me! Stop it! Stop!”
Ralphie felt something knock him to the ground. All the nightmares he’d ever had, all the fears of being hurt by his unloving parents, all the dark and evil threats he’d ever heard, seemed to be whirling around him, waiting to tear him apart.
Steven watched all this in wonder, afraid because of Ralphie’s behavior and yet unable to understand what had turned the bully into the screaming boy who thrashed about on the forest floor.
And then he heard another scream, from behind him. He turned quickly and saw Tatiana, still dressed in her church clothes, gazing at Ralphie with a shocked expression.
“What’s going on?” she cried, her voice barely louder than the wind. “What’s wrong with him?”
“Nothing!” Steven yelled. “It’s a trick! Go home! Go away!”
Tatiana glared at him. Fear of the scene before her was momentarily pushed aside by indignation. How dare this newcomer chase her from her own property?
“I’m telling my father!”
She turned to run back to the house, leaving Ralphie screaming. Steven began to run after her.
“Wait! You’ll ruin everything! Don’t go!”
But Tatiana was too far ahead to hear him. Steven tried to run after her, but something grabbed hold of him. There was nothing there. Steven stopped, expecting the same thing to happen to him that had happened to Ralphie Mercken. But the pressure on his arm stopped, and at the very same moment, so did the wind. Ralphie was silent, lying quietly on the ground.
Steven heard a voice. It seemed to come from inside his head, and yet, at the same time, from all around him.
Don’t be afraid.
Who said that?
Steven was surprised he answered from within his mind.
I’m a friend. I’m here to help you.
Did you . . . did you make that happen?
Though his eyes were open, his mind still formed the vague image of a boy.
I didn’t really make anything happen. It’s all illusion. You can do it too.
Steven thought for a moment. Somehow the voice in his head seemed natural, and he wasn’t afraid of it. But he was full of questions.
Why can’t I see you?
We’re too far from each other. But you will, one day soon. You can call me Marty, Steven.
Steven felt his heart skip a beat.
How did you know my name?
I have always known you. Steven, you told the girl she’d ‘ruin everything.’ Why did you say that? What do you know of all this?
I . . . I don’t remember saying that. I don’t know what it means.
In truth, he did remember his words. But the thought of saying something that made no sense was too much to deal with. Instead, he walked to Ralphie’s unconscious form.
Is he dead? Did you kill him?
No, but he’ll never bother you again. I’ve been looking for you, Steven. When that boy tried to hurt you, your emotions were so strong I was able to find you.
Why were you trying to find me?
There are others like us. We’ll be meeting each other soon. You’re a very special person, Steven. But you must not let anyone know this. You mustn’t tell anyone what happened here in the woods.
What about Ralphie?
Ralphie created his own fears. I only brought them out He’ll push them away again and remember nothing.
But Tatiana—she’s going to tell her father what she saw.
He won’t believe her. No one will. Brush yourself off, go home, and act as if nothing happened. I’ll come again soon.
Marty, wait!
But Marty had instantly vanished from his thoughts. Steven did as instructed, cleaning himself up and heading home. Rachel was waiting for him on the back steps, her arms open wide. She grabbed Steven into them and hugged him fiercely.
Then she stepped back and looked him over.
“You don’t seem hurt,” she said. “Tatiana said something happened in the woods.”
Steven managed a bewildered expression.
“Nothing happened,” he said. “I don’t know what Tatiana is talking about. She came into the woods, to a clearing I found, and then she got really angry at me. She said I had no right to be there.”
Tatiana had come out onto the deck, and now she stamped her foot.
“I did not say that!” she cried. “You did something to Ralphie Mercken. He was screaming like crazy, and the wind was blowing.”
Rachel frowned at her.
“There is no wind today, Tatiana,” she said.
“There was in the woods!” Tatiana insisted. “It was blowing and blowing. It knocked down leaves. And Ralphie was screaming!”
Rachel knew that every word Tatiana said was true. She had been sitting at the piano, playing a medley of Rodgers and Hammerstein tunes, when she’d been struck by a feeling something was happening to Steven. And then the sheet music had disappeared, replaced by a small holographic tableau of the woods. She’d seen Steven and Tatiana and an unfamiliar white boy in that clearing. She’d seen the white boy’s mouth open wide in a scream, seen the wind blowing fiercely.
It had lasted only a half-minute, but it was enough to send her running out here to find out what was wrong. Tatiana hadn’t had a chance to tell her anything was wrong.
Only she knew the whole thing was crazy. Rachel would never admit, especially to a six-year-old, that she’d had a psychic experience. She would never tell anyone.
“Stop it right now, Tatiana,” she said. “You’re just jealous and want to get Steven into trouble. Well, you’re the one in trouble now. Go to your room, and don’t come out until dinnertime.”
“Daddy will believe me,” Tatiana blubbered.
“Daddy’s gone to the hardware store,” Rachel said almost triumphantly.
Tatiana’s eyes were brimming. Rachel had never been so mean to her! But she could tell by the angry look on her mother’s face that this was no idle command. Shaking, she ran up to her room.
No, it wasn’t her room now. It belonged to Steven. She hated him. Hated him!
She went to the window and looked out. Rachel and Steven were still in the yard, their arms around each other’s shoulders. Tatiana cried and cried.
The night her mother had come home late, she had felt there was something different about her. Now she knew it was true. Rachel was changing into something mean and ugly, and no one could see it but her.
15
IT WAS MORE than an hour before the situation in the emergency room was under enough control for Samantha to break away. She was worried about Julie. Had the child eaten? Was she upset because Samantha hadn’t returned when promised?
Nanette Belfield easily read the concern on the doctor’s face.
“Don’t fret, Dr. Winstead,” she said. “I’ve taken good care of Julie. I knew you’d be busy, so I took her to the cafeteria myself. She’s probably there now, finishing her lunch.”
Samantha sighed with relief. “Thank you,
Mrs. Belfield. I’ll go right up there.”
In the cafeteria the lunch crowd had diminished considerably, but there was no sign of Julie. A quick check of the lavatory didn’t produce her either. Samantha headed back to the elevator. As she was about to press the button, she heard her name over the intercom.
“Another emergency?” she thought aloud, stepping into the elevator.
“You are wanted on the second floor. Dr. Winstead, you are wanted on the second floor.”
The second floor? Why?
Samantha realized what had happened. The maternity ward was on the second floor. Julie must have gone up by herself!
When she stepped off the elevator, Barbara Huston was there to greet her.
“You’d better come with me, Samantha,” she said.
“Is it Julie?”
Barbara nodded.
“You really shouldn’t have let her wander around by herself,” Barbara said. “I saw her coming out of the preemie ward, and she looked like she was scared to death about something.”
“I’m sorry,” Samantha answered. “It’s been crazy downstairs. I suppose the sight of those tiny babies was a shock to her. Most adults can’t handle it, let alone a child!”
Barbara opened a door to a waiting room. Julie was sitting on the couch, her knees drawn up to her chest and her arms wrapped around herself. Her head was bent down, so that her long brown hair fell all around her shoulders.
“She ran from me,” Barbara said. “I found her hiding under the sink in the maintenance closet.”
“Julie, what happened?” Samantha asked.
At the sound of her voice, Julie’s head snapped up. Samantha sat down and put her arms around her.
“I was so scared!” she cried. “When I saw the baby in the glass box, it made me remember something terrible!”
“Can you tell me about it?”
Julie just hugged her tighter and shook her head. Samantha looked across the room at Barbara.
“Now do you see why it’s so important to find out who she really is?”
“But aren’t you afraid of—?”
“I’m more afraid of the damage my keeping silent is doing to her,” Samantha interrupted. “Barbara, I need your help. I have to do something.”
Cries of the Children Page 9
