‘Sounds like a plan,’ Brian said quietly, concentrating on his driving.
‘Meanwhile, DCF wants to place the kid while she waits for her surgery.’
‘When?’ Brian was suddenly fully alert.
‘When what?’
‘When do they want to place her?’
‘Soon as possible, I’d imagine. I get the distinct impression you’ve taken a big interest in this little girl.’
‘Kind of, I guess.’ It was hard for Brian to sound non-committal when he was anxious now to get back to the office and put his and Jan’s names up for consideration as temporary foster parents.
‘Did you ever in your life see anything like what happened in there?’ Garvey asked, firing up a Camel and then rolling down the window. ‘The guy completely fell to pieces and the kid put him back together. Never saw such a thing.’
‘Me, neither,’ Brian said. ‘But she’s got a pretty powerful effect on people . . . maybe because of the age and size of her. She’s about the smartest kid I’ve ever encountered. You read my report on how she got out of that van?’ Brian glanced over.
‘Unbelievable!’ Garvey shook his head, then took a hard drag on his cigarette. ‘A plastic knife and fork. Just unbelievable.’
‘Did they find any photographs or film in the van?’ Brian asked. ‘She seems to know about porn, went into a pose when Connie went to shoot her. I figure those animals took pictures, maybe even used her in a movie or two. What I’m hoping is they didn’t sell any of it. It’d be a terrible thing for her, years from now, if that stuff surfaced.’
‘The forensic guys are cataloguing the contents of the van. Seems there’s a ton of stuff. It’ll take time to sort through it all. Meanwhile, those two ratfucks don’t even have the smarts to ask for a lawyer. The DA’s gonna charge them with kidnapping, rape, unlawful confinement, and a bunch of other things. If there’s a God, the court’ll appoint a PD who’s got about a week’s experience and graduated at the bottom of his class.’
Brian had to laugh. ‘It’s what they deserve.’
‘They don’t deserve even someone that good,’ Garvey said with disgust, and flicked his half-smoked cigarette out the window. ‘With any luck, those two are going away forever. Too bad it’s not a death-penalty situation.’
It was a relatively quiet day for Connie. She’d processed the previous day’s party film and was drying the prints of the girl – the sight of her filthy, injured little body painful to see – when she got the call to go back and do some shots for the media. Having a legitimate reason to see the child again felt like a gift. Restocking her camera bag, she headed right out to the car. She wanted to get in a bit of shopping before returning to the hospital.
The too-young-looking guard was on duty again. Remembering her, he said, ‘Go on in,’ and went back to the paperback he was reading.
The child was sitting cross-legged on the bed, frowning at the TV set. As if possessed of radar, she turned the instant Connie walked into the room and said, ‘Miss Connie! You comed again.’
‘I told you I would. How are you, sweetie?’
‘They gived me shoes ’n’ socks but Mister Stefan said I didn’t have to wear them, ’cuz I didn’t like them.’
‘You shouldn’t wear things you don’t like,’ Connie said, putting her camera bag on the chair before approaching the bed. ‘Your hair looks very nice.’
‘I look like a boy.’
‘No.’ Connie smiled at her. ‘You look like a pretty girl.’
‘Is that good?’
‘Very, very good. How do you feel about the dress?’
‘Too many clothes, on top and under, too.’ Humaby lifted the sides of the fussy dress as if they were unbearably heavy.
‘I brought you some clothes I think you might like better,’ Connie said, setting the shopping bag down on the bed.
‘Mister Brian says when people like a child they bring you toys and stuff.’
‘That’s true. But I decided you need clothes more than toys.’ Reaching into the bag, Connie laid out her purchases one by one. ‘This is what people call a sweat suit, which is kind of a silly name. But it’s made out of something called velour and it’s very soft. Touch it and you’ll see.’
Tentatively, Humaby put out a finger, as if the offering might be electric and give her a nasty shock.
‘Go ahead and really touch it,’ Connie encouraged her.
‘It is soft! What color is this?’
‘It’s yellow. Do you like it?’
‘Yeah.’
‘And I got you some sneakers. I think you’ll like these. They’re soft, too. Not the way the sweat suit is, but they’ll feel good on your feet.’
‘Thank you, Miss Connie.’
‘Would you like me to help you change into your new clothes?’
‘I can wear them?’
‘Yes, you can.’
‘Okay.’ Lowering her voice and glancing at the doorway as if fearful of someone overhearing, she said, ‘I don’t like this dress.’
‘I know,’ Connie whispered. ‘And if you don’t like these new things, I won’t mind one bit. We’ll just find you something else that you do like. Okay?’
‘Yeah?’
‘Absolutely. We’ll keep your socks on so the sneakers don’t rub your sore foot when you walk,’ Connie told her, getting the ugly shoes and then the starchy, oversized dress off. ‘First we’ll put on the bottoms. You can hold my arm while we get these on. Good. Now, the top. There! How does it feel?’
Humaby took her hands over her arms and legs, examining the sensation, then said, ‘I like it, Miss Connie! It feels nice.’
‘I’m glad. We’ll try the sneakers on later. Okay?’
‘’Kay.’
‘Could I give you a kiss?’ Connie asked.
Humaby’s brow furrowed. ‘In my mouth?’
‘No, sweetie. On the cheek.’
‘Why?’ she asked worriedly.
‘Because I like you and care about you. Giving a kiss is a way to show how you feel about someone.’
A tide of doubt washed over the child’s face.
Guilt, thick and gluey, collected in Connie’s throat. The child had no comprehension of gentle gestures. ‘It’s all right, sweetie,’ she said quietly. ‘It was wrong of me to ask you. We’ll forget about it.’
Not sure how it worked, but wanting to please her, Humaby leaned over and pressed her lips to Connie’s cheek, then asked, ‘That okay?’
‘That was lovely, the nicest kiss I’ve ever had. Thank you so much.’
In a relieved rush, the child said, ‘You’re welkin, Miss Connie.’ Searching Connie’s eyes, she asked, ‘You gonna read for me again?’
‘I’d love to. But first I have to take a few pictures – just of your face, to show how pretty you look. Would that be all right?’
‘I guess. But why?’
‘Mister Brian and the other policemen are going to show your picture to lots of people and try to find your family.’
‘What if I don’t have a family?’
‘Then arrangements will be made to find you a new one.’
‘That’s what Mister Brian said.’ Humaby looked over at the window, wondering if a new family would live in a van, too.
‘And he was right. This’ll only take a minute.’
‘Miss Connie, one of the nurse ladies said children like ka-toons.’ She pointed at the TV. ‘But bunnies and animals get hurted and there’s lots of big noises that’re scary.’
‘Would you like me to turn it off?’
‘Yeah. Why would children like those?’
‘I really don’t know. I never liked them when I was a kid.’ Connie found the remote and switched off the set. ‘I was born in another country where there wasn’t any TV. It wasn’t until we came here, when I was little like you, that I saw a cartoon. It scared me.’
Blinking at the now dark screen, Humaby said, ‘You got ascared?’
‘Yes, I did.’
‘And you
was little like me?’
‘Yes, I was.’
‘But now you’re growed up and don’t get scared anymore, right?’
‘Sometimes, I do. Grown-ups get scared the same as little kids do, sweetie.’
‘I didn’t know that.’
‘Well, we do.’ Connie offered one of her big smiles, then said, ‘If it’s okay with you, I’ll take the pictures now and we’ll be done with it.’ Connie got her camera from the case before adjusting the curtains to brighten the room. She sat the girl at an angle on the side of the bed so that the available light lent a lovely glow to her features, and quickly took a dozen close-ups from different angles. ‘All done,’ she announced. ‘Thank you very much. You made my job so easy. You are such a good girl. Now we can read until your lunch comes.’ She glanced at her watch. She’d have plenty of time to process the negs, print the film, then rush the best full-face and profile shots to the repro place to get copies made.
‘Lunch is food?’
‘That’s right. Breakfast is what you eat when you wake up, lunch is what you have in the middle of the day, and dinner is what you have near the end of the day a little before it’s time for you to go to bed. Are you hungry?’
‘They gived me juice and cookies before. I didn’t even have to ask.’
‘That’s great. Why don’t you sit back against the pillows, get comfy, and we’ll read.’
Humaby settled with the teddy bear and stuffed bunny on either side of her, every few moments rubbing a hand over her sleeve or her leg, savoring the plush feel of the velour. ‘Are you old, Miss Connie?’
Connie laughed as she picked up the Beatrix Potter book from the bedside table. ‘I’m twenty-five.’
‘Is that old?
‘Not very.’
‘Is Mister Brian old?’
‘I think he’s probably a few years older than I am.’
‘Could you and Mister Brian be my family?’
Profoundly touched, Connie chose her words with care. ‘Mister Brian already has a family, sweetie. And they don’t let women who aren’t married take care of small children like you. But I’ll be your friend always. Sometimes, friends can be just as good as family.’
‘Oh!’ Disappointed, Humaby looked down and stroked her sleeve.
Reaching to take hold of the child’s free hand, Connie said, ‘No matter what happens, you will always be important to me. I will come to see you, wherever you are, and you’ll be able to call me on the telephone.’
‘I don’t know how to use the telephone.’
Giving the small hand a gentle squeeze, Connie said, ‘Don’t worry. I’ll teach you how. Are you ready for a story now?’
‘Yes, please, Miss Connie.’
Finding her place, Connie said. ‘Today we’re going to read The Tale of Jeremy Fisher.’
Early that afternoon, Margery Briggs, the social worker in charge of the case received four calls, each one an offer to provide foster care for the Kmart child.
The first call came in from Officer Brian Kirlane.
The second was from Connie Mason.
The third, at the urging of his wife, was from Dr Stefan Lazarus, who made the call because he didn’t think there was any chance of the child being placed in their care.
And the fourth was from Captain James Garvey.
‘Would I be breaking any rules if I picked her up at the hospital and brought her to the house for an hour?’ Brian asked the captain. ‘I just think it would do her good to be with ordinary people, meet another little girl. Maybe play a bit.’
‘Let me make a call to that Lazarus guy. If he says it’s okay then I can’t see a problem. They’re still waiting for test results so far as I know, and the poor kid’s probably bored to death stuck in that room all alone.’
‘Thanks, Cap.’
‘Where we goin’, Mister Brian?’
‘I’m taking you to my house to meet my daughter, Lucia, and her mother.’
‘Why?’
‘I thought you might like to get out of that room for a while, meet some new people. I like your sweat suit. It’s sharp. And so’re the sneakers.’
‘Miss Connie gived them to me. It’s soft.’ She held out her arm. ‘Feel!’
He did and emitted a soft whistle. ‘Wow! Is that ever soft!’
‘Yeah,’ she said, pleased.
As they pulled in to the driveway, the front door opened and Jan stepped out with Lucia at her side.
Brian went around and opened the passenger door, helping Humaby out, then took her hand to lead her up the walk.
‘This is sweetie,’ he told his wife and daughter.
At once, Jan dropped to her haunches and smiled, saying, ‘Hi! I’m so happy to meet you. I’m Jan and this is Lucia.’
Humaby didn’t speak. Her gaze was fixed on the girl with the long white-blonde hair and bright blue eyes, porcelain skin, exquisite features. She’d never been this close to someone her own age and size. It felt funny but good in a strange way. ‘Pretty,’ she murmured at last, not sure if that was the right word for what she wanted to say.
Lucia said, ‘I like your hair. I wanna get mine cut but my mom says not yet. I don’t know why. Wanna see my room? I got a new Barbie.’
‘What’s a Barbie?’ Humaby asked, as if in a trance.
‘It’s a doll,’ Jan explained as Humaby continued to study Lucia, taking in every detail of her appearance.
‘A doll is another kind of toy,’ Brian put in, as intrigued as his wife was by Humaby’s reaction to Lucia.
‘Miss Connie said giving a kiss is a way to show how you feel about someone,’ Humaby said and kissed Lucia’s cheek, then leaned away to resume staring in awestruck fascination at the first child she’d ever met.
‘That’s right,’ Brian said, gripping Jan’s hand as Lucia, with typical equanimity, kissed Humaby back, then took hold of her hand and said, ‘Come on. Let’s go play!’ and towed Humaby off into the house. As they went, Lucia was saying, ‘We made chocolate chip cookies and lemonade and everything. Like a party . . .’
‘Did you get that?’ Jan asked quietly.
‘Yeah,’ Brian answered. ‘Lucia’s her first friend.’
‘How long have you got?’
‘An hour. I have to get her back to the hospital before the press conference. It’ll hit the airwaves and the papers, and then the calls’ll start coming in. Every crackpot from here to hell ’n’ gone’ll be phoning to say they know who she is, and all the parents with missing kids will insist she’s their little Jen or Sarah or Em. It’s gonna be brutal.’
‘Maybe they’ll let her stay with us until something breaks.’
‘Maybe,’ he said, with a gut hunch that it wasn’t going to happen.
SIX
A tall lady came to the room and looked at the clothes and said Humaby had to wear the scratchy dress and the tight shoes, and then she made Humaby stand still while she pulled off the nice soft sweat suit Miss Connie gave her and put all the other stuff on her, bending down to do up the tight shoes. After that she had to go with her to a big room and stand with the tall lady holding her hand too hard – it was the cut one with the bandage – where people shouted at her, hurting her ears, and lights kept going off and on, making her eyes sting. It was very loud and bright, then very loud and dark, over and over. She kept looking for Mister Brian or Miss Connie, but didn’t see them or the baby anywhere.
With the lights and the yelling and so many people, she felt scared and had to work hard not to cry. The tall lady leaned down to her and said, ‘It’ll be over soon. Just try to stand still,’ then she gave Humaby a tiny little smile that was angry underneath. Why was she mad? And why were there so many people, all yelling and making the lights go on and off? None of it made sense. She only hoped she’d get to see the baby, the way Mister Brian said she might.
Then it got quiet and a man and lady came in. The old policeman from before said they were the mama and daddy of the baby. They held hands and started talking into a
whole big bunch of what looked like gray ice-cream cones or big lollipops all pushed together on big stands, saying how happy they were to have their daughter back and it was all because of this special little girl. Humaby looked around to see the special little girl. Maybe the baby was there and she just couldn’t see her because of all the lights. People laughed and more lights flashed off and on, off and on. Then the mama and daddy came over and the mama bent down to her, taking hold of Humaby’s hand.
‘We’re so grateful to you,’ the mama said in a very quiet voice, holding Humaby’s hand to her cheek. ‘I will never forget what you’ve done for us.’ Her voice got all choky and Humaby could tell she was going to cry, so she pulled her hand free from the tall lady and patted the baby’s mama on the shoulder. That made the mama start to cry really hard and all the lights started going off and on again. The mama stood up, then the daddy leaned down and spoke softly to Humaby, as if he didn’t want anyone else to hear, and he was all choky too. ‘We’re going to see that you’re rewarded for making it possible for us to get Gracie back.’
Humaby asked, ‘Please, can I see the baby?’
He looked at the mama who was holding a cloth to her eyes now and shaking her head back and forth, saying, ‘I have to get out of here, Ben. Please get me out of here.’ Then he looked again at Humaby and said, ‘We’ll work something out. Thank you, dear heart, thank you so very much. You are a brave and clever girl, and we are forever in your debt.’ Then he took the mama by the arm and some men in suits hurried away with them.
The old policeman got in front of the gray ice-cream cones and said, ‘Okay, folks. That’s it. You, print people, we’d appreciate your convincing your editors to put this remarkable child’s picture above the fold, so people see it first thing. And if you TV folks could persuade your producers to make this tonight’s lead story maybe we’ll get lucky and find her family. Thanks everyone. That’s it for today.’
Where is the Baby? Page 6
