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Cries of the Children(100)

By:Clare McNally


They entered the motel, where they had to wait a few minutes before someone showed up at the desk. The bespectacled old man yawned himself, making Rachel yawn again. Eric had to bite his lip to keep from picking up the habit.

“Double?” the man said.

“Yes, for two nights,” Eric replied.

Rachel looked up at her husband, wondering why he was asking for another night. She didn’t expect to be here that long. She expected to get hold of Steven and go home by tomorrow afternoon.

“Getting a vacation in before the crowds?” the manager asked in a friendly way. He’s been dozing in the back office, but had come wide-awake now.

“Yes . . . yes, that’s it,” Eric said. “Only time I could get away from work.”

“You and a few others,” the man replied. “Funny, I haven’t seen much business in a month, then I get five people here in one night.”

Eric took the room key, thanked the man, and walked to the elevator. He didn’t care much about whoever might also be renting a room tonight. All he cared about was sleep.

Rachel seemed to think the same way, because moments after she climbed into the bed, she was off. Eric cuddled up next to her and fell asleep himself.

The sun was so bright when Eric woke up that his first reaction was to grab his watch off the night table and check the time. To his surprise, it was only seven-thirty. He guessed that being on the coast made the sun more obvious.

He rolled onto his back, debating whether or not to wake Rachel. Oh, he’d let her sleep, he thought. Poor thing needed her rest. She’d been through so much in the past week.

But his movements had stirred Rachel awake. She turned and smiled weakly at him. They kissed, mumbled greetings, then each rolled off the bed.

“I love the way hotels have double sinks,” he said as they washed up together. “We ought to do this at home.”

He caught Rachel’s reflection in the mirror. Her eyes were bloodshot.

“How do you feel, honey?” he asked gently.

“He’s still here,” was Rachel’s reply.

“That’s not what I meant.”

Rachel brushed her teeth, then set the brush into a plastic cup provided by the hotel.

“I’m rested,” she said. “Ready to face the day. But I’m also frustrated, and hungry.”

“Frustrated I can’t help you with,” Eric said. “But we can get some breakfast. Did you notice if there’s a place to eat in this motel?”

“I saw a coffee setup in the lobby,” Rachel said. “Probably the doughnuts route. I need something more substantial than that.”

Eric went to the bed and sat down, picking up the phone. First he called the front desk and learned there was a diner across the street. It served a buffet breakfast. Next he asked to make a long-distance call. He put his hand over the receiver.

“Tatiana and Olivia would be getting ready for school right now,” he said. “I just want to check in on them.”

Olivia came on the line first.

“Did you find Steven?” she asked. “Are you coming home?”

“Not yet, sweetheart,” Eric apologized. “But we’re close, I’m sure. Are you okay?”

“Helga’s taking good care of us,” Olivia said. “But we miss you. Please hurry home!”

“I’ll try, baby,” Eric said. “Is Tatiana there?”

“Right here.”

Tatiana came on next.

“When are you coming back?” she asked bluntly. There was an accusing tone in her voice.

“Soon as we can, Tati,” Eric said. “Not too long.”

“How come you didn’t say good-bye?”

Eric could hear the crack in her voice, and imagined tears welling up in her big brown eyes.

“Oh, Tati,” he said, “there was no time. I—”

“I have to go now,” Tatiana said. “The school bus is coming.”

She hung up without saying good-bye. Rachel read the stricken look on her husband’s face and knew what must have happened. But she didn’t say a word. Instead, she suggested they go off to find the diner.

So they got dressed and left the motel. They entered the restaurant and waited to be shown to a seat. There were about twelve other people in the place, which would seat nearly eighty during the high season. Even so, the buffet tables were well-laden. Once seated, they both refused menus, asking for the buffet instead. Eric led the way, enticed by delicious smells of bacon and sausage and fresh coffee and more. A chef stood behind three skillets, each on a blazing fire and each filled with eggs. Eric ordered a western omelet and waited as it was being prepared.

Rachel had moved on to a table of pastries and fruits. Suddenly she dropped her tray, the metal making a loud thud on the carpet. Eric quickly took his plate from the chef and hurried to her.