The Pieces We Keep(30)
“You know you’re not supposed to walk off without telling someone, right?”
He nodded.
“Then why on earth did you do that today?”
Jack parted his lips to reply, then pursed them and returned to the window.
She reviewed her own tone, firmer than intended. His disappearance had upended her emotions; though it all came out well, the effects were difficult to shake. She exhaled before trying again.
“Buddy, I’m not upset anymore. I just really want to understand why you’d do that.”
He didn’t respond, just stroked his personal worry stone.
Considering Jack’s military interest, like that of most boys his age, the Gl at the fair would have easily caught his eye. After all, the man had been a recruitment poster for valor, all spiffed up in an Army dress uniform.
“Did you just want to say hi to the soldier? Is that why you went over there?”
After a pause, he answered softly. “No.”
“Jack, I saw you speaking to him.”
It then occurred to her that he might be avoiding a confession: that he’d broken a basic safety rule by talking to a stranger.
“Could you please just tell me what you said? I promise, you won’t get in trouble if you’re honest with me.”
He gazed down at his plane, as if the answer lay in the grooves of its wings. He seemed to be growing even more introverted since his nightmares began. When he raised his head, he looked straight into the mirror. “Feel find feel air.”
At his altered voice, the tiny hairs on the back of her neck shot up. She twisted to face him, her foot still on the brake. She would have taken the words for gibberish if not for the distinct, purposeful syllables and guttural vowels.
“What does that mean?”
He shrugged at her.
“Jack, tell me what that means.”
“I don’t know,” he mumbled.
The phrase had sounded foreign. Yet how was that possible? With the prevalence of Spanish, few kids in America wouldn’t be familiar with standards like hola or adios.
But this was different.
“Do you ... remember where you learned it?”
He shrugged again, and a honk blared from the car behind. The light had changed to green. Audra scrambled to find the gas pedal and jerked the car into motion. She made a sharp left through the intersection, straining to remain in her lane.
They passed cars and crosswalks and neighborhood blocks. Her autopilot skills led the way as the fingers of her mind shuffled through Jack’s drawings. The Army plane in flames. The swastika on the man’s chest. And now Jack seemed to be imitating another language. Could it be a European tongue from World War Two?
She’d sat back all this time, not interfering when Robert showered him with fighter planes or reenacted invasions with battalions of toy soldiers, despite their inherent links to violence. She figured it was a normal hobby for boys. Her one condition had been no viewing of programs featuring the glories or brutalities of war.
Once parked in her apartment’s lot, she turned toward the backseat. She did her best not to convey an inquisition. “Jack, I really need you to tell me. Has Grandpa been showing you any war movies? About airplanes blowing up, or soldiers being hurt?”
A crinkle formed on his brow, then he shook his head.
She’d seen that crinkle before, when he tried to keep a secret after a weekend with his grandparents. They’re supposed to spoil him, Devon had assured her, regarding Jack’s overdose of donuts. It’s a perk of the job. She had let it go, of course, even smiled at the benign tradition.
This, on the other hand, was anything but amusing.
She was about to press harder when her phone buzzed on the passenger seat. This time she had no doubt it was Meredith.
Audra handed the keys over to Jack. “Go on in, buddy. We’ll talk about this later.”
Jack climbed out of the car. She watched him enter their apartment, only a dozen feet away, before she picked up the call.
“Audra, are you there?”
“Yeah, I’m here.”
“I just wanted to make sure Jack was okay.”
“He wandered off for a little while, but everything’s fine.”
“Oh, good. I’m so glad. I know how scary that can be.” Her voice lightened, sounding of a smile. “You know, we used to joke that Devon had bloodhound in him. Whenever Robert took him bird hunting as a kid, Dev would always go off exploring—”
The mention of killing animals for sport, combined with such breeziness over a roaming child—particularly after today’s scare—was anything but welcome.
“Meredith,” she cut in, “has Jack been watching any TV at your house?”
The woman stopped. “Once in a while, I suppose. Why do you ask?”