by Brian Harmon
He waited, but there was still no answer.
“I know you’re here somewhere, Eliot. Come talk to me.” It was a lie, of course. He knew no such thing for certain. But it was worth a try. Besides, something in his gut told him that the boy wasn’t far.
He waited, but again there was no answer.
“I’m ready to play again, Eliot.”
An older boy rounded the corner and crossed the balance beam, making it look easy.
“Hey,” said Eric. “Have you seen a little boy in jeans and a white tee shirt?”
“Nope,” said the boy. He didn’t think about the question. He didn’t even look up at him. He just hopped off the balance beam and disappeared into the tunnel.
“Right. Thanks.” He lifted the phone to his ear again to find Paul cursing on the other end. “What’s wrong?”
“Who the hell designed this climbing net?” snapped Paul.
“Oh yeah. That thing. Smarts like hell, doesn’t it?”
“That was horrible! What kind of sicko puts something like that in a playground?”
“I know,” agreed Eric. “Oh, and you’re gonna want to watch your head when you stand—”
“Ouch! Fuck! Bastard-mother-Jesus!”
Eric cringed. “Yeah, that.”
Paul moaned. “Dammit that hurt!”
“Thanks for toning down the cursing for all the kids, at least.” He wasn’t even being entirely sarcastic. That was practically the Sesame Street version, compared to Paul’s usual brand of cursing. The man once disturbed a huge wasp nest in their parents’ garden shed by mistake and Eric witnessed the birth of at least eleven brand new obscenities he’d never heard before. At least three of them he was confident nobody had ever heard before. Translated literally, they’d defied the laws of gravity, nature and even God.
“I figured I should keep it classy,” he groaned.
“Any sign of Eliot?”
“Give me a second… Having trouble giving a shit at the moment…”
“Walk it off.”
“You guys are funny,” said a small voice from the far end of the balance beam.
Eric looked up to see Eliot standing there. “You,” he said. “I’ve been looking for you.”
“I know. I was watching.”
He cocked his head, confused. “Then why didn’t you answer when I called for you?”
Eliot smiled. “Because I didn’t want to. You’re not the boss of me.”
“No… I guess I’m not.” Great, the kid had an attitude on top of being a cheat. That was great. “We’d like to play. My brother and I. Both of us want to play the game.”
“We are playing.”
“We are?”
“You’re both trying to catch me.”
“That’s right. And if we do, you’ll take us to Judith, right?”
“Sure,” said Eliot.
“You promise?”
“What does it matter? You can’t catch me.”
“If you won’t promise, we won’t play.”
He rolled his eyes, annoyed. “Fine. I promise. Now come and get me.”
Without taking his eyes off the boy, he said, “Paul?”
“I heard,” said Paul.
Eliot turned and fled into the next passage and Eric set off across the balance beam after him. “He’s on the move.”
“So am I,” Paul assured him. “Uh, by the way… What am I supposed to do if I find him? I mean, it’s not like I can just grab some kid. Literally, if he really is a ghost.”
“Just try to corner him,” said Eric. “Don’t let him get by you. Maybe we can trap him between us. Whoa!” He teetered off balance and had to grab the netting. Like everything else in the playland, this was harder than it looked when you were a grown man.
Somehow he managed to reach the other side without doing any harm to himself. But by the time he took a look around, the boy had vanished.
“You guys’ll never win,” Eliot informed him. “You’re way too slow.”
Eric turned around to find him standing on the other side of the balance beam. Somehow, he’d circled around behind him. Or maybe he floated through the walls. It was hard to say for certain.
A little girl ran past him and across the balance beam. Like the boy before her, she made it look easy.
Eric followed her across, pushing himself to move faster. But if it was only a matter of confidence, then he didn’t have enough of it, because halfway across, his foot slipped off the side and he fell.
It wasn’t a far fall. The netting was only about three inches below the bottom of the beam, but he cracked his knee against it on his way down, and the pain was unexpectedly intense.
Eliot found it incredibly funny.
It could’ve been worse, he decided as he pulled himself up by the net and stepped back onto the beam. At least both his feet didn’t slip off opposite sides and make him sit down hard on it.
Moving more carefully this time, Eric made his way to the end of the beam.
Eliot headed up higher, navigating the little, plastic platforms at a speed that seemed otherworldly, except for the fact that he’d seen living children perform the same, impressive feat over and over again.
Eric, on the other hand, was not speedy. He wasn’t lithe or flexible. He wasn’t even remotely graceful. He ducked under the mesh, climbed up onto the first platform, twisted himself around and then pulled himself up onto the next one. If he were to be perfectly honest with himself, it was a positively pitiful display. He had all the speed and stamina of that old guy who couldn’t get up the library steps anymore without stopping twice to rest. And he had all the flexibility of the fat guy who couldn’t reach his own shoelaces anymore.
He must have looked like an obese walrus stuck in a revolving door.
Naturally, by the time he reached the top, Eliot was gone again. In his place were two very impatient-looking boys waiting for him to get his ample ass out of the way so they could go down.
When he went to stand up, he banged his head again.
He hated this place.
He lifted his phone to his ear and said, “How’re you doing down there?”
“I think I just saw him. He crawled into a tunnel.”
“Try to keep up with him.”
“I’m trying, but the kid’s fast. I’ve already lost sight of him.”
“Keep looking.” Careful not to bang his head again, he continued on. Ahead of him was another short passageway. There was a red, horizontal bar blocking the way, forcing him to crawl over it. Beyond that was another small room with those big, plastic balls hanging down from the ceiling. There was a small boy scampering back and forth, batting the balls around, making them swing wildly in every direction so that they repeatedly smacked Eric as he pushed his way to the other side.
It wasn’t painful, only incredibly annoying. Especially since he was too tall to walk fully upright. Being stooped over made it feel as if every one of the stupid, plastic balls was aiming straight for his face.
Paul grunted and cursed again. “My knees and back are going to be hurting like hell when I get home tonight.”
“If we can’t catch this kid, none of us are going to make it home tonight,” Eric reminded him.
“I didn’t say I was going to stop. Jesus…”
He emerged from the swinging, plastic balls to find his path blocked by two bright yellow, vertical, plastic cylinders.
“I see him!” exclaimed Paul. “He’s right in front of me. I think I have him cornered.”
Eric knelt down to give his back a rest and looked back the way he came. “Perfect! Don’t let him—”
“Where the fuck did he go?”
He closed his eyes. “…out of your sight,” he finished.
“He was just there! There’s nowhere else for him to go!”
Two little girls shoved their way through the hanging balls and then ran past Eric. He turned and watched them squeeze between the yellow cylinders. They revolved, he realized, like the w
heels on an old-fashioned laundry wringer, except vertical. And they were softer than they looked. They bent, allowing much larger bodies to pass between them than he’d first imagined. He crawled closer and looked through them.
There was a passage to the right and steps going up to the left. Big ones, much easier to navigate than the small, padded ones. But although he’d watched those two girls squeeze through this wringer, he wasn’t confident that his own sizeable bulk would fit.
Paul cursed again. Eric wished he’d stop doing that around the children. Even if he was alone in whatever tunnel he was crawling through, he could probably still be heard in nearby parts of the playland. He doubted if any of these kids were paying any attention, but still…
“There’s a hole in the ceiling!” said Paul. “Looks like he crawled through it to the level above.”
At that moment, Eliot appeared from the passage on the right, gave him a cheerful wave and then took off up those big steps.
“He might be going your way,” said Paul.
Eric couldn’t hope to find his way around. He made a judgement call and forced his way between the cylinders.
He had to turn himself onto his side to fit his shoulders through, but the soft plastic yielded. The problems started when he tried to force his belly through. It didn’t want to fit.
He felt a twinge of panic as he realized that he might not actually fit, but he forced the thought from his mind. Of course he’d fit. He had to.
He let all the air out of his lungs and sucked in his belly. Slowly, inch-by-inch, he dragged himself through the wringer until he was past the thickest part and could breathe again.
But as he paused to catch his breath, he heard laughter from the steps. He looked up to see Eliot sitting there, watching him struggle.
Eric lunged forward, intending to pull his legs through the wringer and give chase, but his hips were wedged. He was stuck.
Behind him, he heard some kid yell, “Hey, look at this guy!”
He felt a hot flush fill his face.
Eliot laughed harder as new laughter began behind him.
Cursing under his breath, Eric turned himself on his side and struggled to pull himself through that way. But still he couldn’t quite fit. Now that his hips were turned to the side, it seemed his ass was too big.
The laughter behind him swelled. He was attracting an audience.
Who the hell thought this would be a good idea? The sign said parents were welcome. It didn’t say only skinny parents were welcome!
Eliot was laughing hysterically now.
Eric dug his toes in, gripped the bars and pushed himself forward as hard as he could.
He wasn’t budging.
This was bad.
In hindsight, this was a terrible idea. This was the sort of idea that resulted in visits from the fire department and insufferable amounts of humiliation.
But then he felt himself moving. Only a little at first, but then a little bit more and a little bit more. He doubled his effort, straining until his arms shook and his entire face must’ve gone bright red.
It was painful. Things were…squished…in the process… It felt like his hips were dislocating. But he was slowly sliding through.
Finally, he was free. He pulled his legs through behind him, snatched up his phone and bolted for the steps.
Eliot’s laughter didn’t slow him down. He was on his feet and running up the stairs in an instant. Eric raced after him.
“He’s heading for the top!” he said, holding the phone to his ear again.
“I’m about halfway up, I think,” reported Paul.
“Hurry up!”
He couldn’t slow down now. This was his chance. The boy was right there, just a few steps ahead of him.
But as they spiraled upward, a group of girls ran down and he had to slow down as they pushed past him.
When he reached the top, he found himself at the very top of the playland.
The roof was just above them. A pair of skylights illuminated a wide, square room, empty but for a small tower in the very middle that six or seven children were currently climbing on. At the four corners of the room were four smaller, round rooms.
Eliot didn’t go for the tower. Nor did he go for any of the corner rooms. He was standing at the top of a blue slide.
“This was fun,” he said. “Let’s play again sometime.”
“No,” said Eric. He slipped his phone into his pocket and put his hands up, urging him to stay put. “We don’t have time. You have to take me to Judith.”
“You didn’t win,” said Eliot.
Eric walked very slowly. He needed to remain calm. “Because you cheated.”
“No I didn’t.”
A little closer… “You can go places I can’t. That’s cheating.”
“It just means you’re not very good at this game.”
“Eliot…” He was only about twelve feet away. A little closer and maybe he could make a grab for him. He couldn’t let him dive into the slide and vanish like he did last time. “This is serious. People are in danger. Don’t you care about that?”
“No,” he replied. He was perfectly and disturbingly blunt. He didn’t even take time to consider the question. “I don’t. It doesn’t have anything to do with me. All I care about is playing. And you lost.”
Eric stopped, surprised. “We’re talking about life and death here.”
“I don’t care about life or death,” countered Eliot. “You want another tip?”
“No, I don’t! I want you to take me to Judith!”
He shrugged. “Suit yourself.” And with that, he launched himself into the slide.
Eric dove in after him. This time, he was careful to go feet first. If he found himself in the ball pit again, he wasn’t going in head first.
But he wasn’t prepared for what awaited him.
This slide didn’t spiral down like the last one he tried. Instead, it went straight down, and at a surprisingly steep angle. Almost instantly, he was plummeting through a long, blue tube, all the way to the ground level. Surprised, he threw his hands out and tried to slow his descent, which was yet another mistake, because he needed the speed to carry his considerably larger bulk to the end of the shoot at the bottom of the slide.
Instead of gliding all the way to the end, he ground to halt too early, leaving him lying on his back about eight feet from the end of the slide.
Just like in the mirror maze, he found himself in a space about the size of a coffin. Except instead of mirrors, he was now encased in a tube of blue plastic.
Given time, he probably could’ve wormed his way to the end, but this wasn’t that kind of day. A little boy came speeding down the slide behind him, colliding with him and kicking him in the head and shoulder. Behind him came a little girl in a pretty, green dress. Even though the boy was between her and Eric, she managed to miss the boy and kick him instead.
Two more boys came down next.
They were shouting and laughing and kicking and shoving.
One of them crawled over the top of him, kicking him in the face and kneeing him in the belly on his way.
Another boy did the same, except he managed to plant his knee squarely in Eric’s crotch.
The whole ordeal was apparently quite funny to the children.
He wasn’t having nearly as much fun as they were.
The two boys grabbed him by the ankles and pulled, dragging him along the shoot until, finally, he emerged from the slide…only to find himself staring up at Karen and her mother.
Karen looked furious.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
“So that’s where he’s been hiding,” said Blanche.
Through a clearly fake smile and gritted teeth, Karen said, “What’re you doing, darling?”
Darling? Darling wasn’t a term of endearment. Not when Karen used it. It was a word she used in place of things like, “dumbass,” and “soon to be dead husband,” when she wanted to be polite in front of company.
“Is the slide in working order then?” asked Blanche.
“It’s fine,” he said, rising to his feet and stretching his back. “For kids. Not so much for grownups. But it’s the only quick way back down once you’re at the top.”
“So it was one of those things that seemed like a good idea at the time?” asked Karen.
“Something like that, yeah.”
“Excuse me for a minute,” said Blanche as she caught sight of someone she wanted to talk to.
Eric started to walk away, too, but Karen followed.
“You couldn’t have timed that worse if you’d tried,” she growled.
“It’s a gift, I think.”
“Did you at least find the boy you were looking for?”
“I found him,” replied Eric. “But he won’t talk to me.”
“Did you tell him it’s an emergency?”
“He doesn’t care.”
She looked appalled. “He has to care.”
“He told me so. He doesn’t care anything about life or death. He only cares about playing.”
“He told you that?”
“He did.”
“What a selfish little brat!”
“I know.”
“What’ll you do now?”
“I guess I’ll think of something else.”
“You’d better.” She stopped and looked around. “By the way, where’s Paul?”
Eric looked back at the playland. “Oh yeah…” He pulled out his phone and looked at the screen.
I TOLD HIM THE GAME WAS OVER
“Thanks,” he said.
NO PROBLEM
To Karen, he said, “He’ll be out soon.”
She nodded. “Well I’ve got to get back to work. And so do you.”
“I do.”
“Hurry up. You’re running out of time.”
“Believe me, I know.”
He watched her walk away and then glanced down at the phone.
TODD, texted Isabelle.
“Todd,” he agreed, nodding.
He needed some advice. “Playing” with Eliot wasn’t getting him anywhere. He was no closer to seeing Judith than he was an hour and a half ago. Time was rapidly ticking away. The only ones who could possibly help him were Todd or William, and he didn’t dare go back into the basement for fear of losing even more time.
