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The Pieces We Keep(94)

By:Kristina McMorris


“Sure. That’s—fine.” She tried not to stammer. “Jack? Could you come over here, please?”

“Would you mind if we came inside?” Officer Hall asked.

“No. No, please do.” She backed up to let them through and closed the door, right as Jack arrived in the entryway. His sleeves were pulled up a few inches, the cuffs dampened from washing at the sink.

The second officer angled toward Jack. “Hi there. I’m Officer Ramirez.” Beneath the warmth of his smile, he had to be scanning, assessing. “Is your name Jack?”

Jack nodded.

Officer Ramirez then looked at Audra. “Would it be all right if I talk to Jack in his room for a moment while you talk to Officer Hall?”

“Yes. Of course.” She put on a smile to help ease Jack’s puzzlement. “Baby, these policemen are just here to make sure you’re safe. Why don’t you show Officer Ramirez your room ... so he can ... see your bombers?”

She was trying to keep things casual, and immediately regretted the mention of an armed weapon. “I just mean your old warplanes, the models. Like in your dreams.” Now she sounded as if she was prompting his answers, demanding he confirm her claim of nightmares.

No doubt Officer Ramirez, too, was considering the possibility, but his animated tone masked the thought. “You’ve got model airplanes in your room?” he said to Jack. “You know, I used to paint them with my grandpa. Ships too, but the planes were my favorites.” He exuded the experience of a father, making clear that in these situations he was the one assigned to the kids. “How about we take a look, little man?”

Jack paused for only a second before nodding again. As he led the officer away, Audra recalled the state of Jack’s room. The explosion of toys and clothes and bedding didn’t suggest an ideal environment. Small quivers reverberated in Audra’s knees.

“Would you care to sit down?” she asked, and was relieved Officer Hall agreed.

Sean gave her a look and motioned to the door: Do you want me to leave?

She tightly shook her head.

Though still confused, he nodded and followed.

In the living room, Audra and Sean sat on the couch with appropriate space between them. The officer sat on the sofa chair and pulled out a small notepad. He jotted down the names and birthdates of everyone there, formalities required for a report.

“Ma’am, I noticed your son’s got a cast on his arm. Could you tell me what that’s from?”

“I’d be glad to,” she said, eager to explain. She also sensed that volunteering too much too fast could come off as scripted. “You see, a few weeks ago, he was having a night terror—that’s what the doctor at the ER called them.” She hoped the term had been recorded in Jack’s medical file. “The dreams cause him to flail around a lot, and that’s how his arm hit the dresser. Since then, I’ve done a better job of holding on to him to keep him from hurting himself. But he does get some bruises that way.”

“Excuse me, Officer,” Sean interjected, appearing to comprehend the nature of the exchange. “If you’re trying to find out if Audra’s an abusive mother, I can tell you right now, there’s not a chance. The kid really does have physically violent dreams.”

“Have you seen these yourself, sir?”

“Well ... no. I haven’t.”

“Have you spent much time with the family?”

“No, not much. But we just met recently.”

The officer nodded, wrote on his pad.

“Sean, it’s all right,” Audra said quietly. He was trying to help, a former news producer taking the lead, but could end up making things worse.

Officer Hall again addressed Audra. “Is there anyone professional you’re seeing, to help your son with these episodes?”

She perked at this. “Yes. We’ve been seeing the counselor at his school. His name’s Dr. Shaw.” Never had she been more grateful for sessions with any therapist.

“That’s good to hear. I’m sure that’ll be helpful.”

The topic led her back to evaluations for custody. She debated on bringing up the case, afraid the officers might somehow find out and make a note of her omission. But then Officer Ramirez emerged from Jack’s bedroom—without Jack.

“Ms. Hughes,” he said, “I was wondering if you could tell me where your son’s injuries came from?”

Officer Hall had heard everything yet didn’t say a word.

She swallowed, realizing what was happening. They were comparing stories, looking for discrepancies. She calmly repeated her explanation. When she finished, Officer Ramirez asked, “Would you mind if I took a peek at your son’s chest and back? Just to be thorough.”