The sharp smell of pine needles pierced the late night air. A full moon hung in the sky, glowing like an ivory pendant. Summer was slowly edging into fall. “I want us to have a few minutes to remember what it’s like to feel normal again, with no talk about kidnapping or the children missing …” I broke off. My life had been pared down to the essentials: enough food to survive, water, sleep, and shelter. I barely remembered what it was like to have a thought that didn’t take shape around the children’s absence.
“Are you sure you can do this?” Alex reached across the Amish porch glider to take my hand. His palm was warm and dry and I clasped it gratefully. “You know we can talk about anything you want.”
My own hands were as slick and clammy as mussels. I wiped them on my jeans. “We haven’t really talked about our trip. Everything that happened afterward was so horrible.”
“Unbelievable.” Alex’s voice was fraught with incredulity.
“There was so much I wanted to tell Caleigh and Dane about it. Do you remember that fruit the villagers brought for the bus trip back to Surabaya? Oh, my god, the durian! I laughed until tears ran down my cheeks. It really did smell like a bad case of flatulence!”
Alex smiled. “It’s good to see you laugh again. Do you remember the shadow play production in the village? The performance of puppets behind that cotton screen? What was the name of it?”
“Wayang kulit. The puppets were made from buffalo skin. They were amazing. I fell in love with you all over again when you said you wanted to buy puppets and perform our own version of a shadow play with the kids.”
Alex’s arm was around my shoulder and he squeezed gently. “The shadows seemed almost lifelike, the way they seemed to move. Do you remember the offerings of flowers and incense that were laid out in bamboo trays every morning?”
“The monkeys who raided them for the fruit looked like little old men. Every time the clerk got out a fly swatter, they ran off into the bushes and as soon as his back was turned, they’d be back to eat the offerings. I wish the kids could have seen them …”
“Me too. Do you want to light some of the incense we brought back?” Alex asked.
I shrugged. I hadn’t even unpacked them yet. “They’re still in the suitcase.”
“How about the coconut?” Alex asked. “I’ll get it.”
The incense filled the night with a fleeting memory of when everything seemed right in the world. “As worried as I was,” he said, “the last night on the beach with you was amazing. The boardwalk and the sunset were spectacular.”
“Oh, Alex. I was thinking of Caleigh again. Her long, shiny hair. How her arms and legs had been as suntanned and as spindly as a sandpiper’s all summer. How could I not have known what was happening?” I wondered if I’d made a mistake in bringing Alex into our lives, and then ashamed, I pushed the thought away.
“As soon as we find them, we’ll get treatment for her. For both of them. For all of us,” Alex said diplomatically. “We will find them, you know.”
I cast a grateful glance in his direction and struggled to put the thoughts of him being a mistake out of my mind. “I know. Let’s talk about something else. It’s already fall. That always meant an end to the laziness of summer and the thrill of school beginning for me. The kids’ excitement about meeting their teachers brought it all back every year.” We rocked slowly on the porch swing. “How about you?”
“Me too.” He pulled me closer. “But for me, summer wasn’t lazy. I grew up on a farm in Northern Minnesota and there was a lot to do. I was up at dawn with my dad planting or harvesting corn all spring and summer. I couldn’t wait to get back to school!”
I wanted to lie down beside him and breathe in his woodsy smell. To be comforted by it. I just didn’t know if it would ever be possible again. “You’ve never said much about that. I looked forward to it too, but more because summer was such a lonely place. I’m an only child and I didn’t have a lot of friends. I’ve been so focused on school and my career and later, the kids, that I never really made any women friends. I guess that’s why this thing with Josie bothers me so much. I thought of her as a friend. It really hurts, you know?”
“I know, sweetie.” He intertwined his fingers through mine.
“It’s nice to have a friend you can have lunch with and talk about things with … not that you’re not terrific, but really, you didn’t even notice Angela’s shoes.” He gave me a questioning look. “Hey, I’m kidding!”
“Was she wearing shoes?” he teased.
Pretending to slap him, I told him how much I had always loved fall. The smell of it, the leaves underfoot, the feeling of something just around the corner. Those dark nights just before winter when everything felt crisp and alive. Sometimes I’d pretend a blanket of stars covered the earth and the moon cast a spell.
“On Halloween, when Caleigh was young, she was so excited to get into her costume and go trick-or-treating that she could hardly eat. Dane is still like that. What I wouldn’t give for them to be home …” I laid my head on Alex’s shoulder. “You’ve been like a rock during this nightmare.” I took in another deep breath, devouring his smell. The tears began before I could blink them away. “I guess I can’t even make it an hour, huh? I just don’t know if I can do this anymore. What if?” The unspoken words hovered like insects over our heads.
“Grace, don’t.” He tilted my face toward his. “Don’t give up. We’ll find them. Are you sure you’re ready to go back to work on Monday?”
Time had hung as heavily as a woolen sweater left out in the rain. “Yeah, it’s been three weeks. I can’t stay home alone and wait by the phone another minute. I got permission to bring my cell phone into work so that Meyers can call me if there’s any news. I’ll apply to the Adolescent Psychiatry Fellowship for next year and hand in my resignation next summer.”
“Maybe it will be good for you to get out of the house for a few hours each day,” he said. “Come on. Let’s go to bed. I’m beat.”
* * *
The following Monday when I walked through the parking lot, everything looked as it was supposed to. Inmates raked leaves inside the fenced-in areas. Officers and nurses walked by and chatted in small groups, lapsing into silence when they saw me. A nurse I knew waved awkwardly before hurrying away. It had been over four weeks since I had last checked in at the sallyport, emptied my pockets, took off my shoes and passed through the metal detectors.
Josie was in the lobby removing her shoes when I got there. “Hey. I’m back.” I had wondered if returning to work had been the right decision, but seeing Josie’s face felt like winning at bingo.
“Hi.” Josie stepped through the metal detector and slipped her shoes back on. She kept walking as I waited for the corrections officer to hand me the keys to the unit.
“Wait up!” I called, but she had gone on ahead.
The metal door into the psych unit was heavier than I remembered, and the unit darker and closer. A flickering sense of near panic rose in my chest. I counted my steps to the nurse’s station, poured a cup of coffee and stole into my office. A pile of charts sat stacked on top of the desk. Renewing the long-standing medication orders would take all morning. By then, I hoped the panic would give a hint of subsiding.
It was almost noon before I finished writing medication orders for the new patients and saw the two most acute patients on the floor. They weren’t too bad, considering it was a full moon. Tyrell Perkins was still there, and Emanuel and Finn were gone. For a few moments, I realized I had thought of something beside the abduction. The thin flat face of my watch said lunchtime and out of habit, I picked up the phone and dialed Josie’s office. “Hey! I’m done for the morning. Want to meet in the cafeteria for lunch?”
“Sorry, Grace. I can’t. I’m gonna go running.”
“I’ll go with you. I have my stuff in the car. I have a meeting at one, so I have an hour to tell you about Angela. The police are keeping her under surveillance.”
“Can I take a rain check? I really feel like running alone today. I’m not up for company right now …” Josie’s voice trailed off.
“Well, sure, another time then.” Whatever. What the fuck is wrong with her? I sat at my desk and stared at the phone. The dial tone sounded a monotonous beep. I trudged to the cafeteria, hurt by Josie’s disregard of my feelings. It had never been easy for me to make friends. I had always been the clinician, the academic living inside a textbook. Josie was a leap of faith. Someone who I thought understood and accepted me for who I was.
The cafeteria was filled with the hum of conversation. A line of nurses and corrections officers inched toward the counter. I picked out the most appetizing items on display: a salad and a diet soda, and swept my gaze across the room. Bud Anderson sat alone at a table by the window. He raised his head and motioned for me to join him. I wasn’t sure if I was ready to join anyone. Conversations stopped as I walked to his table. My missing children and I had become the elephant in the room.
“Hi, Doc. How’s it going? Any word yet?”
“Hi, uhm, Bud. Nope, no word yet. Do you mind if I sit down?”
He stood and pulled out a chair. “Glad to see you back.”
“I want to thank you for the help you’ve been.” I choked up despite the promise I had made to myself that morning. “I know you had a lot going on and yet you …”
“Don’t worry about it. Glad to help. I know what it feels like to lose your kids.”
“I’ve been so frantic about my situation that I never asked about what happened with your children. How’s everything going?”
“The judge awarded custody to my ex-wife this week. I’ll see my kids every other weekend.” He looked down and stirred his coffee.
My stomach muscles tightened. “I’m sorry. Is there anything I can do to help?” We looked at one another and connected in a way I never would have thought possible.
“I dunno. My lawyer says we can appeal. We’ll see. How’re you doing? You hangin’ in there?”
The salad and the rubbery hard-boiled boiled egg were impossible to swallow. “I’m trying.” My stomach protested, and I pushed the salad away. Before I knew what was happening, I was blubbering, telling Bud Anderson about the fruitless tips, the reporters camped out on our doorstep, the tabloids’ implications that Alex and I were to blame, and about meeting Angela, and Josie’s odd behavior. My stomach went from protesting to feeling leaden.
Bud’s face tightened. “I never liked that woman.” He tried to arrange his features into banal lines.
Bud was an ex-marine not prone to emotional outbursts. Here was a man entirely different from the Bud Anderson who accosted me at the party. A man with feelings, with compassion and an understanding of suffering. He was the only staff member who had dared ask about the children. “Bud, what is it about Josie you don’t like?”
“Just a feeling. I spent a lot of time around different people in the service and here in the prison. I can smell a rat a mile away,” he said ominously. “She’s rabid, Doc. Don’t ask me how I know. I’m a hunter. I know a sick animal when I see one.”
“Maybe you’re mistaken,” I suggested. “Josie’s had a hard life.”
“Yeah, maybe,” he agreed, not very convincingly.
The afternoon lengthened and brought cooler air with it. At the end of the day, I walked back to the car, feeling a little satisfaction I had made it this far. Alex would be home late so I stopped at Joe’s on the way home. Things between us had felt so strained lately I wanted to surprise him with dinner.
* * *
The groceries sat on the front seat. I pulled close to the mailbox and placed the day’s mail alongside the chicken breasts, pasta salad, and sweet corn. From a distance, the house looked as forlorn as a never-worn bridal gown hanging in the closet. I lugged the groceries in and went back to the car for the mail. A thin white envelope with no stamp and my name printed on the face was stuffed between the bills.
My chest constricted as I unfolded the familiar white copy paper. I sat at the kitchen table, unable to breathe. Every nerve ending tingled.
IF YOU WANT TO SEE YOUR CHILDREN AGAIN, YOU WILL BRING $500,000 TO THE PLAYGROUND AT SILVER LAKE PARK AT MIDNIGHT ON FRIDAY, SEPTEMBER 21ST. COME ALONE OR YOU WILL NEVER SEE THEM AGAIN. NO POLICE.
The crisp white paper was stark against the dark tablecloth. The letters began to waver and the walls seemed to fold in on me. A strange sound came out of my mouth. Something between a sob and a scream. My phone in hand, I prayed, Alex, pick up … Please pick up.
I got his voicemail. Fuck. I called his office. “Dr. Sawyer’s office,” his nasal-voiced administrative assistant answered.
With a bubbling sense of panic, I said, “Ruth, it’s Grace Rendeau. It’s an emergency. Is Alex there?”
“Oh, Dr. Rendeau, how are you? I’m so sorry to hear about what’s happened. I wrote your name down in our prayer circle at church.”
“Thanks, and sorry to interrupt, but it’s an emergency, Ruth. Could you put Alex on?”
“Oh, Dr. Sawyer left early today. Right after his last patient, about an hour ago.”
“Did he say where he was going?” I struggled not to scream. “Was he making rounds in the hospital?”
“I don’t think so. He took his briefcase and his coat. Said he’d see me tomorrow.”
“Thanks, Ruth.” I hung up, still staring at the note. I felt sick and small, like a child after too much candy. My throat constricted. My eyes were as coarse and gritty as sandpaper. Where the fuck was he? I went upstairs and splashed water on my face. No police. Should I get the money and go alone or should I tell Alex? I didn’t have $500,000 but maybe between the two of us, we could come up with the money by Friday. I tried Alex’s cell phone again. Nothing.
I was beginning to panic as I stood framed in the bathroom window, looking out onto the driveway. When Alex pulled up, my feet skimmed the stairs as I flew to meet him at the door. “Where have you been?” My voice was demanding, near hysterical. “I’ve been calling you for hours!” As soon as the words tumbled out, I saw it.
Alex stood at the door with a chocolate cake from my favorite bakery in one hand and a bouquet of wilting yellow roses in the other. “I wanted to surprise you after your first day back to work,” he said sheepishly.
I pressed my cheek against his collarbone. His breath was laced with the smell of alcohol. An unnatural quiet settled between us. “Have you been drinking? Alex, there’s been a ransom note,” I said into his chest, furious he hadn’t been here when I needed him.
“Grace, I’m sorry.” He stumbled into the living room. “I stopped for one drink with Jason from work, and it just felt so good to be normal for a change that before I knew it, one drink turned into three.”
“Jesus. I really can’t believe you!” I snarled, more hurt by his explanation than by the fact that he’d been drinking. He wanted a normal life I might never be able to give him again.
The note was an incongruous seed of hope strewn in my path and I was determined to focus on that. Dinner was forgotten as we debated what to do. “I have to do it. I know it means they’re still alive.” I paced in the living room. “Don’t you see? I could get them back.”
“I don’t want you going anywhere alone.” Alex’s voice was bone-dry. He turned away. In my peripheral vision, I saw him trawl the kitchen drawer for a corkscrew. “You don’t know who these people are or what they might do to you. I need another drink. Do you want something?”
An awkward silence ensued. He was a man accustomed to getting his own way but now I despised him for it. I ran into the bathroom, not caring that he could hear me retching. “Do you think we could get a loan for that amount?” I asked when I came out.
“I don’t know.” Alex was having trouble opening the wine. His eyes were bloodshot. He took out a wine glass from the cabinet and dropped it, shattering it into sharp fragments. “Shit. Sorry. I’ll get the broom.”
“Forget the broom. Forget the fucking wine. Listen to me! I can’t believe you’re even thinking about wine at a time like this. Can we get a loan for $500,000?”
“Grace, you can’t be serious. Call Meyers. He has to know.”
I sat down, massaged my temples and stood again. “The note said No Police. God, I can’t sit still. What do you think?”
“Ransom notes always say that. What, the kidnappers will suggest you bring the police with you? I think you should call the police.” Alex swept up the shards and reached for another glass. He sat down at the kitchen table, poured a brimful of white wine and said, “Today is Monday. The note said to have the money by Friday. That gives us plenty of time to think about this.”
“It gives us time to cash our IRA’s and take out a loan.” I was both looking forward to and dreading Friday.
Alex rose from the table and walked over to where I stood. “I love you. I would do anything for you, but I think we should call the police. We have time to think about this, Grace. I want you to be safe,” he whispered in my hair.
I had never needed anyone more desperately in my life but I pushed him away. “We have four days. I’ll think about it. I’m just so afraid that if I tell Meyers, something will happen to them.”
Alex went to the table and got a napkin to wipe my nose. He was breathing heavily. “I know, sweetheart. I just think he should know so that you’re not in any danger. The police have experience in dealing with this sort of thing. They’ll know what to do.”
“I’m going to bed,” I finally said. I understood that to Alex, I was everything, but to a woman with children, they were everything. That was the difference between us. “Maybe things will seem clearer in the morning. They’re okay. I just have to believe that.”
Alex kissed the top of my head. “You’re right, it’s late. Let’s go upstairs. Are you going to go to work tomorrow?”
“I’d go absolutely crazy if I were here thinking about that note and what we should do all day. Maybe something will come to me at work.”
When my head finally touched the pillow, I began to cry big heaving sobs. And then I decided to go to the bank alone.