Missing Child (15 page)

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Authors: Patricia MacDonald

BOOK: Missing Child
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‘Well, Emily would have wanted Noah and Geordie to have someone,’ said Westy. ‘We knew that.’

‘Thank you,’ Caitlin whispered. ‘That’s what makes this all so difficult. Your kindness. Your understanding.’

‘Makes what so difficult?’ Paula asked, frowning.

Caitlin took a deep breath. She realized that this was a before and after moment. After this moment, Emily’s parents would never look at her the same way. Would never treat her with that same kind acceptance. But she had no choice. She had to go forward. She sighed. ‘Do you remember . . . Noah and I met that day that you all planted the garden in Emily’s memory at the hospital.’

‘Is that when you two met?’ Paula asked, frowning. ‘I was never clear on that.’

‘Yes,’ said Caitlin. ‘We met that day. I came to that planting of the garden for one reason.’

They were both watching her, but they did not speak.

‘I came that day intending to tell you something. But I . . . lost my nerve.’

Paula’s eyes were suddenly filled with apprehension.

‘Tell us what?’ Westy asked.

‘This is so difficult,’ Caitlin said.

They stared at her, waiting.

‘You see, I knew what happened . . . to Emily. I knew about Emily’s accident.’

‘Everyone knew,’ said Paula. ‘It was all over the news.’

‘That’s not what I mean,’ said Caitlin.

‘What do you mean?’ Westy asked impatiently.

Caitlin took a deep breath. ‘The person who hit Emily with his car – truck, actually . . . was my brother.’

For a moment, the room was silent.

‘Your brother,’ said Westy.

‘My younger brother, James. He was sixteen. Driving without a license. He panicked. And he ran.’

She glanced up at Emily’s parents. Their eyes were wide with horror. It was as if they were watching the accident occur all over again.

‘He admitted it to me,’ said Caitlin. ‘He admitted that he killed Emily. Not at first. At first he just said he had an accident. But then, finally, he told me.’

‘Where is that kid now?’ Westy growled, and Caitlin had the distinct impression that the mild-mannered Westy was ready to get up and go after him that minute. At least that would not be necessary.

‘Was that your brother that died?’ Paula asked, dimly remembering this fact about Caitlin’s family.

‘Yes. James. He died of a drug overdose a few days after the accident. I don’t think he could live with the guilt. And I told him that we were going to the police and he was just going to have to suffer the consequences for what he had done.’ She looked at her hands in her lap. She could not bear to look them in the eye. ‘I should have told you long ago. I should have told Noah. But . . . I didn’t. And now, it’s come out and Noah doesn’t want anything to do with me. He’s furious with me. As I’m sure you are. But I still wanted to be the one to tell you. Too late, of course. But I am doing what I should have done long ago. I’m going to tell Dan, too. I owe all of you that much.’

‘You owe us a lot more than that,’ said Westy, glowering.

Paula shook her head, and put a hand on his arm. ‘Don’t,’ she said.

‘If I could change it,’ Caitlin said, ‘believe me, I would.’

‘No one can change it,’ said Paula. She stood up. ‘I . . . think my husband and I need to be alone. If you wouldn’t mind leaving, Caitlin . . .’

Caitlin stood up stiffly. ‘Of course. I’m just . . . so sorry.’

A door banged and Travis trudged into the room. ‘I’m finished with those leaves,’ he announced. He glanced at the bakery box still unopened on the counter. ‘Is that the cake?’ he asked.

‘Not now, Travis,’ said Caitlin.

‘Why not?’ he asked.

Paula and Westy did not seem to hear him. They were grasping one another’s hands, their backs turned on Caitlin and the boy.

‘Why don’t I take you home?’ said Caitlin. She looked at the older couple. ‘If it’s all right with the Bergens.’

‘That might be best,’ said Paula stiffly. ‘Under the circumstances.’

Travis looked angrily at the cake box and then down at his sneakers. ‘I was supposed to get paid,’ he said.

‘I’ll pay you,’ said Caitlin. ‘Come on.’

FOURTEEN

W
hen they were seated in the car, Caitlin took her wallet out of her purse and handed Travis five dollars. ‘For the leaves,’ she said.

‘Your hands are shaking,’ he said.

‘I’m upset, Travis, OK?’ said Caitlin.

Travis shrugged and jammed the five dollars in his pants pocket. Then he leaned against the car door and pressed his face to the window, looking out. ‘Let’s just go,’ he said. ‘I hate their stupid leaves.’

Caitlin turned on the engine. ‘Don’t be so nasty, Travis. It didn’t kill you to rake a couple of leaves.’

‘A couple!’ he protested. Then he sighed and shook his head. ‘What do you know about it?’

‘I know that the Bergens are very good to you. You could try a little harder to be nice.’

‘I won’t,’ he insisted. ‘I hate coming here.’

‘Why?’ Caitlin asked.

‘It’s boring.’

‘Boring?’ said Caitlin doubtfully.

‘They’re old and they smell.’

Caitlin counted to ten. ‘You know, Travis, we all have a lot on our minds these days. Geordie is still missing for one thing. So, just zip it. No one wants to hear how tough it is raking a few leaves.’

Travis muttered something under his breath.

‘What?’ Caitlin asked.

‘Nothing,’ he said sullenly.

Caitlin shook her head. She turned on the car radio.

‘I don’t want to listen to this music. It’s stupid,’ he said.

‘Tough,’ said Caitlin, turning up the volume. They rode the rest of the way to Naomi’s house with Caitlin listening to a classical music station.

Naomi, Travis and Martha lived in an area of Hartwell in which many residents had been hit hard by the economic downturn. At the corner of Naomi’s street was a little store which had once been a deli. The deli sign still hung crookedly from the low eaves but the display windows were boarded up, giving the entrance to the street a look of hopelessness. There were ‘For Sale’ signs outside of several homes on the street, and there were a couple of empty houses where foreclosure had obviously already taken place.

Travis jumped out the car the minute they pulled in the driveway. Caitlin wanted to just leave, but she knew that would be irresponsible. Naomi’s Volvo was not in the driveway. She needed to make sure that Martha was there so that Travis would not be in the house alone. She couldn’t take a chance.

She followed Travis to the door. Naomi’s house was about the size of her parents’ house, covered in asbestos shingles on which the paint had faded. Many of the shingles were cracked or broken, so the house looked neglected. The yard was untended, and the windows were grimy, as if they hadn’t been washed in years. Travis barreled into the house, letting the screen door slam in Caitlin’s face. She could hear Champ inside, barking deliriously at the sight of his master. Caitlin had half a mind to chase after Travis and demand an apology. Instead, she let him go. She came into the living room, which was dark. She could hear the television blaring in another room.

‘Martha? Naomi?’ she called out.

Just then she heard Martha calling out, ‘Travis, is that you? What in the world are you doing?’

Travis mumbled something and then there was sound of breaking glass and then a door slammed. ‘Travis!’ Martha cried. Caitlin followed the commotion.

Martha was standing in the kitchen door looking in the general direction of the refrigerator. ‘Travis,’ she demanded, but Travis was not in the room. On the floor was a broken bottle, the contents of which were spreading across the dingy tiles. Caitlin did not want to alarm Noah’s mother by coming up on her from behind.

‘Martha, it’s Caitlin,’ she said, announcing herself. ‘I just brought Travis home from the Bergens. Paula picked him up from school.’

‘I know. She called me,’ said Martha.

‘Don’t move, Martha,’ said Caitlin. ‘You’ll cut yourself. There’s glass everywhere on the floor.’

‘Travis,’ Martha said, shaking her head. ‘Where did he get to? He dropped that bottle and just left it there.’

‘He must have gone out back. Let me look,’ said Caitlin. She tiptoed around the mess and looked out the window of the back door. Travis was sitting on a low, crumbling stone wall, jamming cookies into his mouth. He fed an occasional cookie to Champ, who waited, panting, at his feet. Caitlin opened the door. ‘Travis, you left a mess in here.’

‘No, I didn’t,’ he said. ‘Grandma did it. She’s always dropping things.’

‘Travis . . .’ Caitlin knew he was lying, but she was not about to get into an argument with him. ‘You can stay outside, but don’t leave that yard. You hear me?’

Travis glared at her but did not reply.

Caitlin closed the door. ‘He’s sitting out there eating cookies with Champ,’ said Caitlin.

Martha shook her head. ‘He’s always eating junk. Then he complains because the other kids call him fat.’

‘Let me clean this up,’ said Caitlin.

‘There’s a dustpan and a mop in the pantry,’ said Martha. ‘I’m sorry about this. I must have startled him when I hollered at him and the bottle slipped.’

Caitlin didn’t think that was any excuse for Travis to leave the broken bottle on the floor and flee outside with his snack, but she figured it was not her place to scold him. If his grandmother wasn’t going to do it . . . She went into the pantry and found the mop. She wet it in the sink and started to mop up the glass and sticky liquid on the floor.

‘What did he break?’ Martha asked.

‘I think it’s Kool-Aid or punch or something,’ said Caitlin. ‘It’s purple.’ Martha groped around for the back of a kitchen chair and then pulled it out and sat down. ‘I’m sorry. I’m no help, Caitlin,’ she said.

‘That’s all right,’ said Caitlin. ‘No problem.’

‘He’s just such a handful, that boy,’ said Martha. ‘He leaves a mess wherever he goes.’

‘Boys are like that,’ said Caitlin, non-committal.

‘Oh, you’re just being nice. He’s a terror these days. You know, he was such a sweet boy when he was little. Just like Geordie. Have you had any news? I’m so worried. I don’t sleep.’

Caitlin squeezed the mop and rinsed it again. ‘Actually, there is news. Geordie called me last night.’

‘No! What do you mean? On the phone?’

‘Yes. On my cell phone. Just for a minute. It was over before I even realized what was happening. But it was Geordie.’

‘Oh my goodness. That’s wonderful,’ said Martha. ‘That means whoever took him didn’t . . . hurt him.’

‘He didn’t exactly say that, but he sounded OK.’

‘That’s the best news,’ said Martha, her face alight. ‘This is part of the problem with Travis. He doesn’t say so, but I know he’s worried about Geordie, too.’

Caitlin had her doubts, but she didn’t express them directly. ‘You think that’s why he behaves the way he does?’ She had mopped up the liquid and now she retrieved the dust pan and began to gather up the glass. ‘Because of Geordie?’

Martha waved a hand dismissively. ‘Well, not just because of Geordie. He’s been like this for a long time. And my daughter is overprotective of him, which doesn’t help matters.’

‘Overprotective?’ Caitlin said doubtfully. Overindulgent, more like it, she thought. Naomi never seemed to notice or correct Travis’s bad behavior.

‘Like, after Rod died,’ said Martha, ‘she kept him away from the other kids. If she caught them playing cops or cowboys or soldiers – the way boys do – Naomi would just freak out. Guns were what killed her husband, and she wasn’t having it with Travis. So he ended up spending a lot of time alone.

‘Of course I started losing my eyesight around the same time, so I wasn’t much help to him or Naomi.’

Caitlin had never really had such a personal discussion with Martha before. She was not about to interrupt the flow by explaining her rift with Noah. It would wait. Naomi and Martha would hear about it soon enough. ‘That’s frustrating, I’m sure,’ said Caitlin.

‘It truly is,’ said Martha. ‘And then Emily’s passing. Actually, I think that was the last straw for Travis. He seemed to get much worse after Emily died. And now Geordie disappearing like this.’

‘It’s a heavy load,’ Caitlin agreed quietly.

‘It’s hard enough for us grown-ups with Geordie being gone, and not knowing where he is, or what’s become of him But if Geordie doesn’t come home . . .’

‘Don’t say that!’ Caitlin exclaimed. ‘He will.’

‘You’re right. I’m sorry. I have to stay positive. Especially for Travis.’ Her voice faded away and she pressed her lips together. ‘They’re more than cousins to one another. They’re like brothers.’

Brothers? Caitlin thought. She always had the feeling that Travis detested Geordie and was jealous of him at the same time. But she couldn’t blame Martha for wanting to cast the relationship between her two grandsons in the best possible light. And who knows, Caitlin thought, perhaps, deep down inside, Travis really was worried about Geordie. It had to be scary for him to have Geordie disappear like that. Despite his hefty appearance and his hostile attitude, he was still a child.

Caitlin put the chunks and shards of glass into a heavy plastic bag before depositing it into the prominently displayed recycling can. ‘Nothing’s going to happen to Geordie. You mark my words. Geordie is coming back to us,’ said Caitlin. ‘He has to.’

Martha nodded. ‘I pray that you’re right, dear,’ she said. ‘I pray that you’re right.’

FIFTEEN

C
aitlin stood at the front door of the house she had shared with Noah and Geordie for two years. She hesitated. She assumed that she was probably legally entitled to open the door and walk in but, finally, she decided to knock. She did not have long to wait.

Noah opened the door. He was pale and unshaven and his clothes were rumpled. The circles under his eyes looked like smudges of charcoal. He looked at her balefully, but he did not speak.

‘Noah,’ she said, when it became clear that she would have to speak first. ‘Is there any news? Did they figure out where the phone was purchased?’

His eyes were glassy. He shook his head.

‘I was hoping,’ she said.

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