Cries of the Children(8)

“Oh, my God,” she whispered. “You poor things! You’ve been cooped up here without food and water!”

“But look,” Julie said from the back of the room, “someone did leave them food and water.”

Samantha stood up. To her surprise, the water trough and food trays were full. Whoever had kidnapped her the other night had also seen to it that the dogs were taken care of. It was an odd show of humanity from a mysterious stranger. But it also put things into a different perspective. If the kidnapper had wanted to hurt her, why bother caring for the dogs?

She noticed now that Sunday and Lady had pulled away from her and were staring at Julie with their cocoa-colored eyes. Julie returned the stares. It was like a tableau, a moment of frozen time. Samantha wondered why the dogs didn’t run to greet the new stranger in the frolicking, barking way they always did. They seemed to be studying Julie, sizing her up.

“Julie?” she said softly. “These are my dogs, Sunday and Lady.”

“I know,” Julie said. She opened her arms and the dogs ran to her. Each one licked a hand with a warm, wet tongue.

Samantha shook her head.

“That’s amazing,” she said. “Those two are usually a pair of maniacs, especially around kids.”

She leaned down a little to speak to the dogs.

“What’s up, you guys?” she asked. “Why are you behaving so nicely?”

The dogs didn’t even acknowledge her voice, another first. She straightened.

“Sorry,” she said. “I’m really sorry you were cooped up in here. It’s not my fault.”

Julie bent down and whispered something in Sunday’s ear. Instantly the dog turned around and ran to Samantha. He jumped up, putting his big paws on her shoulders. She hugged and petted him as he licked her.

“Good boy!” she said. “What a good boy!”

Lady followed suit, and in moments all was forgiven. Samantha led the dogs outside to run a bit. Julie stood in the doorway and said, “I’m glad they’re okay.”

“So am I,” Samantha said. “But, Julie, how did you know about the dogs?”

“I heard them,” Julie said.

“But they weren’t barking.”

Julie came out of the garage, her eyes fixed on the pair of brown animals that romped under the floodlight.

“I heard them scratching,” she said.

Samantha had to accept this, because there was no other logical explanation. Julie was yawning, and it was obvious all these questions were wearing her out.

“You can sleep in the guest bedroom,” Samantha said. “Let’s take your suitcase inside.”

Upstairs, Samantha opened Julie’s suitcase and found a nightgown and toothbrush. There were several more changes of clothes and another pair of shoes. Someone had seen to it that the child was well prepared; too bad they only thought of the material things Julie would need.

“The bathroom is just down the hall,” Samantha said. “I’ll wait in here until you’re ready.”

When Julie returned, all washed up and dressed in her nightgown, she came to Samantha and put her arms around her.

“I’m so glad you didn’t make me go back,” she said. “I really like you, Samantha.”

She looked up at Samantha with such loving eyes that the woman felt her heart skip a beat. For an instant she felt as if she really knew this child. But that was impossible, of course. She was just feeling sympathetic toward someone in need.

“Would you like to hear a story?” she asked.

“Okay,” Julie said.

There was a shelf of books on the wall, a collection of romances, science fiction, and mysteries. Samantha looked them over, then sighed.

“I’m sorry,” she said. “None of these seem right for a little girl.”

“I don’t mind,” Julie said. She pointed to a book with a ringed planet on its spine. “What’s that one?”

Samantha took it down. It was a collection of short stories by some of the greatest science-fiction writers of all times: Heinlein, Asimov, Bradbury, Clarke.

“I’ll read a short one to you,” she said.

They sat down on the bed together, and Samantha began to read. By the end of the ten-page story, Julie’s eyes were closed. Samantha helped her under the covers. Then, as if she had done it every night, she bent over and kissed Julie’s cheek. Julie sighed but did not awaken.

For a long time Samantha stood at her bedside. A twinge of worry began to knit inside of her, worry that perhaps she might become too attached to the child. In the few hours she’d known Julie, she’d come to feel very, very close to her. Was it more than the camaraderie of two victims? she wondered.