Cries of the Children(5)

Rachel’s grip was so tight that Eric nearly steered the car off the road.

“No!” she cried. “Please don’t call the police!”

“Rachel,” Eric said with concern, “all indications point to the fact that you were kidnapped tonight. We have to report this!”

“No, we don’t,” Rachel said. “I’m fine, really. I don’t know what happened to me, but that doesn’t mean we have to include the authorities in the matter.”

“But, Rachel—”

“Damn it, Eric!” Rachel snapped. “I’m fine! I don’t think I was kidnapped, and I don’t need for you to start worrying. Can we end this, please?”

Eric had never seen her so hostile in the four years they had been married, and the revelation that she could express such fear and anger surprised him.

“All . . . all right,” he stammered. “I won’t call the police. But, Rachel, if you feel anything at all—any pain, I mean—promise me you’ll call a doctor.”

“I promise,” Rachel said, fixing her eyes on the road ahead.

For a long time Rachel was silent. Eric thought to himself that this was the first time he’d ever seen her so introverted. It was her outgoing personality that had attracted him to her in the first place. They’d met at a faculty meeting. Rachel was new to the music department then, while Eric had been a gym teacher for three years. Friends had steered them toward each other. Though they had enjoyed the ensuing conversation, nothing had come of the evening. But Eric’s friends, worried about him raising two girls on his own, insisted he ask Rachel out again. Eric had given in, only because he thought Rachel was the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen. What started as infatuation turned into love when he saw Rachel’s warm reaction to his two young daughters. He asked her to marry him, and she’d accepted. It had been a strangely one-sided wedding, with only his family present. Rachel said she had no living relatives.

When they reached the long driveway that led up to their house, Rachel finally spoke again.

“Don’t tell the girls about your kidnapping idea,” she said.

“Of course I won’t,” Eric promised, shutting off the engine.

“We’ll just say I went for a walk to get some fresh air,” Rachel said, “and because I was so tired, I passed out.”

Olivia, relieved to see her mother was home and safe, willingly accepted the explanation. But Tatiana scrutinized Rachel as if trying to bore into her mind and learn the truth. Rachel caught the child’s gaze and felt a chill run through her. She managed a smile and patted Tatiana on the head.

“Everything’s all right now,” she said. “You go on up to bed.”

“Aren’t you going to kiss me good night?” Tatiana asked.

For a moment Rachel simply stared. Then she blinked a few times and said, “Oh, yes, yes! Of course!”

Tatiana accepted a kiss on her brown cheek.

“Your mother’s worn out,” Eric explained. “Go on, now, up to bed. You’ve got ballet class tomorrow and you’ll never be up to it.”

Tatiana took Olivia’s hand and walked with her up the staircase that cut through the middle of the colonial house. At the top, she looked back over her shoulder. Her parents were hugging each other.

“Something’s wrong with Mommy,” she said softly.

“Don’t be silly,” Olivia answered. “Mommy’s fine. Come on, it’s late. Let’s get some sleep.”

Each girl went to her own room. Despite Olivia’s reassurances, Tati still worried that there was something different about their mother. It was a long time before she fell asleep that night.





4


MOVING WITH THE quickness of a startled mouse, the little girl pulled herself back into the shadows cast where the city streetlamp washed over a tall pile of garbage bags. She didn’t notice the rotting smell of food left wrapped in dark plastic under the warm sun. Her nose was too stuffed up from crying. She wanted to run to someplace safe. If only she could remember where it was she was supposed to go.

If only she knew something more than her name.

“Lorraine,” read the gold chain she wore around her chubby little neck. There was no other clue to her identity, not even in the two small suitcases she had with her. The only thing she was sure of was that she was in a frightening, unfamiliar place. There were stores with great metal doors pulled down over them. Trash littered the streets, blown down abandoned sidewalks. Lorraine had been alone for the last hour, ever since she “woke up” to find herself wandering down a dark and deserted road. When she’d heard voices, she’d felt relief. Maybe someone would help her find her family.