understood what there was about him that made her so happy.
Dee waved at them and Ash waved back.
“Wave,” he said under his breath. “Wave happy.”
Bobby waggled his hand and smiled. Dee waved more energetically and said something to the women with her. They, too, waved at the car as if impelled to do so by Dee’s energy alone.
Then Dee’s wave turned into a sign of beckoning and Bobby heard Ash suck in his breath.
“She wants us,” Bobby said.
He felt Ash’s huge hand grip his leg.
“Be careful,” Ash said.
“Sure.”
“No, no. Be careful.”
Bobby started to open the door, but Ash held him back. ‘Tommy,” he said. “Don’t run.”
Bobby feigned innocence. “What do you mean?”
Ash looked into his eyes, pleading. “Don’t run.”
“She wants us,” Bobby said. “Better let me go. Ash, or Dee’ll get mad at you.”
“Please,” Ash said.
“I’m not going to run,” Bobby said. “Why would I run?”
“Don’t disappoint her,” Ash said, his tone imploring.
Ash kept a hand on the boy and slid across the seat to exit through the same door. They were out of the car and Dee was gesturing frantically.
“Come here. Tommy! Come here!”
Bobby started toward her and felt Ash’s grip tighten again. The big man leaned down, his face close to Bobby’s. Bobby could see the whiskers already sprouting from Ash’s cheeks even though he had shaved earlier. Several longer hairs, black and wiry, rode the crest of his cheekbones, permanently untrimmed.
“Please, Bobby.” Ash whispered. It was the first time Bobby had heard his real name used since he had been taken. “Please don’t run away.”
Bobby stared at Ash for a moment as the depth and sincerity of the big man’s plea finally sunk in. At last he nodded and Ash released him. Bobby walked toward the women, where Dee continued to beckon and urge him on like a puppy.
“Here he is, here’s my darling boy,” Dee exclaimed. “Isn’t he beautiful?”
The women leaned over and clucked approvingly, regarding him as Dee did, as if he were much younger, as young as their own children playing behind them.
“I’m so proud of him,” Dee said, embracing him. She pulled him against her bosom, kissed the top of his head again and again. “Why don’t you go play with the other children now, darling?” she said. Bobby knew it was not a request.
He walked into the sand-covered enclosure and looked at it contemptuously. It was all too young for him. She thought he was a baby. He could barely fit on the slide, his weight on one end of the seesaw would keep any of the other children suspended in the air all night.
Dee had turned her attention back to the other mothers. They spoke of something and Dee burst into laughter, dragging them with her, puzzled by her energy, intimidated by her enthusiasm.
Ash hovered in the middle distance, watching, his attention roving back and forth between Dee and Bobby. Dee had not introduced him, had made no mention of him whatsoever to the women, and they glanced at him now with misgivings, a hulking man, shabbily dressed. There was something not quite right about him, they could see that, a certain slowness of movement, the look of lagging comprehension on his face. Since he, too, came with a child, they were not prepared to declare him dangerous, but both women instinctively shifted their bodies, keeping themselves between Ash and their children.
Bobby found himself in a cage. The playground was fenced in, a safe place for two- and three- and four- year-olds to be contained while their parents consumed McDonald’s fare. There was nowhere to go but back through the gate by which he had entered. He could try to scale the fence, which came only to eye level, but he was certain Ash would get to him before he reached the top. Whom could he yell to? The women with Dee?
He sat disconsolately on the swing, nudging himself back and forth with his toes.
“Is that your daddy?” One of the children stood next to Bobby, a girl with a runny nose. Bobby guessed her to be five years old. Hopelessly young, a generation away from understanding.
“No,” Bobby said, following the girl’s finger as it pointed at Ash. “I’m being kidnapped.”
“My daddy’s in the bathroom.”
“That’s not my mother, either,” Bobby said. “See that woman?” He was careful to indicate Dee only by looking at her. He did not point. “She stole me from my real mommy and daddy.”
“Oh.” Bobby studied the little girl for comprehension. “Will you push me?”
Dee was not looking at him at the moment. Her head was tipped skyward in laughter, she was touching the arm of one of the women.
“I’ll push you if you’ll do something for me, all right?” The girl nodded her head.
“You have to promise,” Bobby said.
The girl wiped her nose with her finger.
“Do you promise?”
“Uh-huh.”
“When we leave, tell your mommy that my name is Bobby Reynolds and I’ve been kidnapped.”
The girl sniffed, then ran her entire forearm under her nose.
“If you promise to do that. I’ll push you as high as you want,” Bobby said. He glanced at Ash, who was watching him curiously. The girl turned and started to trot toward her mother.
“Not now!” Bobby cried. He grabbed at the girl and caught her arm, but the women had already seen the motion and turned to watch. “Not now,” Bobby whispered, but the girl was still straining toward her mother, pulling against him.
“What is it?” said the girl’s mother, moving toward the fence.
Bobby released the girl’s arm, but too late. For a moment the child stood midway between Bobby and her mother, her arm still in the air behind her as if suspended by a wire. She sensed the air of tension both in front of and behind her, everyone waiting to see what she would do. The girl did not know what to do, or what was expected, or why the air was suddenly filled with stress. In doubt, she did what always worked. She began to whimper.
“He hurt my arm,” the girl said.
“No, I didn’t,” Bobby said quickly, but it was already too late.
“I’m sure he didn’t mean to,” the mother said, but she was through the gate, reaching for her daughter.
“He did,” the girl insisted.
Then Dee was upon him, wrenching him out of the canvas bucket of the swing seat, jerking him onto his feet.
“What are you thinking?” she demanded.
“He didn’t mean to,” said the mother, trying to placate Dee when she saw the fury in her face.
Dee clamped her hand on the back of Bobby’s neck, squeezing and propelling him forward so fast he stumbled.
“How dare you do this,” she said. “How dare you do this to me.”
They were across the parking lot in a flash, Bobby being pushed headfirst by the stony grip on his neck.
Ash had the rear door open and slid in instantly next to Bobby, one arm around the boy’s shoulder to keep him from bolting out the other side.
“It’s all right, really.” The other mother had pursued them half to the car, but Dee did not even glance at her. “Please don’t hurt him,” the mother said. The doors were slammed and the car was in motion before she could speak again.
Dee drove without seeming to look at the road, her eyes were so fixedly boring at Bobby in the mirror.
“This is the thanks I get,” she said. Bobby could see her nostril in the glass. It was flared in anger. “This is my reward for all I’ve done for you.”
