“Yes, Dad. The door is still locked. And I won’t leave. Not until you get here.” Alex paused, worried to ask. “When are you ...”
His father sighed on the other end. “I don’t know when they’re going to let me out. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” He started sniffling.
Alex couldn’t say anything. He knew that if he opened his mouth it would just come out as loud sobs.
“Are you still there?”
Alex croaked out a sloppy “Uh-huh.”
“I know you’re scared. I’m scared too. It’s okay. I told them where you were and they said they’d do a sweep of the neighbourhood. Okay?”
“Uh ... huh.”
His dad cleared his throat. “Alex—where’s Shadow?”
Shadow lay on the couch, her head on her paws, looking lazily up at him. Between them was the empty plate where his sandwich had been. He couldn’t remember if he had mindlessly eaten it, or if Shadow had. It didn’t matter.
“She’s ... she’s ... here with ... with me. On the c-couch.”
“Okay. Great. That’s good. Is she okay?”
“Yeah. She’s ... o ... okay. She’s ... trying to sleep.”
“You need to make sure she’s okay, Alex. If you do that, I’ll be so proud of you. Okay?”
Alex knew what his dad was doing. That sense of control—even over the smallest thing—made him feel a lot better. His throat loosened, his eyes burned less.
“Yeah. I ... I can do that.”
“I want you to close the curtains on the front window, okay? I’ll wait. Go do that.”
Alex got up and on very wobbly legs and did so. “Okay. They’re closed.”
“Great. How’s Shadow? She okay?”
Alex looked. “She’s fine. She’s awake and her tail is wagging.”
“Good. She knows you’re there to keep her safe.”
Alex smiled, and wiped his eyes with his free hand. “Right.”
“Right,” his dad sniffled into the phone again. Alex wondered if his dad was also tricking himself; it seemed to be working on both of them. “Right. Did you have lunch yet?”
“I don’t know. I don’t remember.”
“You know what? That’s okay. I couldn’t tell you what I had for lunch either. Might have been a sandwich.”
“Yeah.” Alex noticed that the room was much darker with the curtains closed. He turned on a lamp before he sat back down.
“I’ll tell you what. Go to the pantry. In the back, there’s a big bag of sour cream and onion chips.”
“Yeah, I know. I found them this morning.”
“Well then, you know exactly where they are. They go real nice with a big can of pop.”
“Yeah.”
Alex could hear noise in the background over the phone. His dad was talking to someone else. “Alex? I have to go. But you stay safe, and take care of Shadow, okay?”
“Yeah. I will.”
“And, if it’s not me at the door, look out the window to see who it is. They will be in ... what will the guy be driving? Okay. Alex—there’ll be a police van, or a fire station truck. Okay? If anyone else comes, just ignore it, okay?”
“Okay.”
“I love you.”
“I love you, too.” He paused. “Dad?”
“Yeah?”
“I’m scared.”
“I know. I am too. But, we’ll be all right.”
“Yeah. Okay.”
“Enjoy your chips.”
“I will.”
“See you soon,” he paused. “I’m coming to get you, Alex”
“Okay.”
KAITLYN
Kaitlyn was freaking out.
She had assumed it was bad outside, but “there’s a big storm coming” bad, not “people are getting really hurt out there” bad. She couldn’t handle seeing blood, which was part of the reason she had dealt so poorly with Patrick Taylor. She knew that now—she had not dealt well with the situation then, anymore than she was now.
She didn’t recognize any of the people who had been brought in, but she could certainly recognize pain—something else she did not handle well.
“Where’s my mom?” she said, looking around in a panic. In the commotion of the paramedics arriving, they had gotten separated. Of course, she thought, looking at faces that earlier that day had seemed so familiar and friendly. Now they were strangers who looked just as panicked as she felt. The one time I need her and she’s gone!
“Mom!” she shouted, though her voice was lost in a cacophony of similar calls. “Joanne!” she tried calling instead, realizing how useless yelling mom had been. Still no response.
“I think I see her,” someone behind her said. “Tall woman, light brown hair, and a green t-shirt?”
She turned and saw a tall man who, Kaitlyn surmised, wore a thin mask of calm over a core of fear. The reason he wore that mask stood beside him, holding his hand: a very small girl—Kaitlyn guessed no more than five or six years old—who, somehow, looked the calmest of anyone else she could see.
“Yes, that’s her. Where?” Kaitlyn asked, spinning around. The crowd, however, towered over her and continued to press in waves. While her mom was nowhere to be seen, she did spot something better: Brittany and Sarah huddled together across the foyer.
She took a step toward her friends. She could always find her mom later. It wouldn’t take that long, after all. The man said he saw her, so—
“I saw you two talking earlier. Could you keep an eye on my daughter, Hannah, please?” the man asked before she got any farther.
Kaitlyn spun around to tell him that she was busy, when she was cut off.
“Great. You stay with Hannah, I’ll cut through the crowd and get your mom.” He quickly crouched and spoke to his daughter. “Okay, Boo—you stay here with—” He turned back to Kaitlyn, his eyebrows raised questioningly.
“Kaitlyn.”
“Great,” the man said, then looked back to Hannah. “You stay right here with Kaitlyn, okay?”
“Okay, Daddy,” the little girl said, smiling.
Kaitlyn had no idea how this tiny person remained so oblivious to the situation around her. Maybe she’s slow. That’s just what I need.
“Thanks,” the man said as he stood back up.
And, just like that, he was out of sight.
Kaitlyn looked down at the small girl. Hannah smiled. She seemed friendly enough. But
