When Deputy Trevor handed Will’s drawings to Taylor, she felt like finally she could help. The overwhelming sense of having no control over the situation nagged at her. However, she wasn’t prepared for the emotion that swept over her at seeing his illustrations now displayed as evidence.
She tried to ignore the slight tremor in her fingers. Tucked a strand of hair that had come loose from her ponytail. Then she carefully took both Ziplock bags. Each contained a piece of paper that had been crumpled but was now smoothed out.
She knew instantly they were Will’s, though they were rough sketches. She recognized the energy and action of bold lines, some pressed down so hard she could see the indentation in the paper. She’d seen him do this before, almost manically getting the visual down on paper before it could leave his imagination.
“They’re definitely Will’s,” she told him.
“Do any of these scribbles mean something to you?”
Taylor stopped herself from correcting Deputy Trevor. These were sketches. At worst, rough drafts. But never scribbles. This wasn’t the time for a lesson, but she could still hear Will. The memory of him schooling her tugged a smile at the corner of her lips.
In the first drawing, a blue pickup roared down a road. The marks symbolizing speed followed behind. Those were the deep pressed lines of different lengths with puffs of dust in between.
“Do you know anyone who drives a blue pickup?” the deputy asked when she took too long to answer.
“No, I don’t.”
Taylor stared at the driver Will had drawn. He emphasized the man with his head poking out the vehicle’s window; the head disproportionately larger than the pickup to make the figure look more menacing.
Then she added, “He does a lot of action adventure scenes. And sometimes they include villains.”
“But this looks like the driver is a vampire.” Impatience slipped into his voice as if he was handed an assignment he’d already warranted as a waste of his time. “I mean vampires. Why would he draw a vampire? Is that just all a part of his imagination? Does he draw them a lot?”
Will had definitely made the driver a vampire with a prominent widow’s peak and the mouth open to expose bloody fangs.
She shrugged. “He does have an active imagination. But no, that’s not a familiar figure. At least I haven’t seen him draw a vampire before.”
She remembered the surfers riding the waves at sunset. He’d created that one while they had dinner on the beach watching. He did that a lot, sketching what was in front of him, almost unaware that he was doing it. But then there were the stunning illustrations of the superhero he’d created, crafting him from Jason. The action scenes were pure fiction. Picking up a vehicle with his mechanical arm and flinging it into an evil army descending on a helpless village.
Yes, her son had an amazing imagination. And that’s why she almost gasped at the next drawing.
It was a little boy running away. Yellow hair, lime green and blue sneakers. He carried a red oversized backpack. Will had drawn himself. In the distance was a forest, thick green blotches atop black tree trunks. And off to the side...a bright yellow machine. The bulldozer.
“Do either of these make sense to you?”
She felt Deputy Trevor staring at her. Maybe he could see that they did, indeed, register something. He was waiting for an explanation.
“He sometimes draws single frames of action.”
“Frames of action?”
“Like graphic novels or comic books. And he tells a story.”
“Okay. So, the little boy running away, is it Will?”
“Yes, I think so.” She pointed to the machine in the far corner. “He’s running to the bulldozer.”
“Running away from a vampire?” The deputy didn’t bother to hide his skepticism. In his tone, she could hear his disappointment. That these were just the idle scribbles of a little boy who was bored after skipping school.
She didn’t want to ask the question that now pounded against her temple. The question that suggested her son was in danger. It seemed so obvious to her.
“Has anyone reported a blue pickup in the neighborhood?” she asked. “One that maybe looked like it didn’t belong?”
He looked from Taylor to the drawing, then his head shot up to scan the surrounding streets as if it just occurred to him the significance of what she was asking.
“You think he’s showing something that actually happened?
“Yes. That’s exactly what I’m saying.”
He stared at her for a beat longer, then grabbed at the radio on his shoulder just as a voice came over. Despite the static, the words were loud and clear.
“K9 alert. Dumpster.”
She saw the expression on his face before he could hide it. He left the radio in place but took the Ziplock bags from her fingers.
“I need to let Sheriff Norwich know about these.” He turned his back to her and marched out into the street.
She watched him all the way to his SUV, then noticed a commotion with other officers responding to the radio message.
K9 alert. Dumpster.
The dogs had found something. It could be anything. She remembered Jason telling her how the dogs could find the smallest of things that would make a huge difference. Yes, that’s what they had discovered. That was all it was. A piece of evidence. She told herself that as she grabbed a sweatshirt out of her car and headed in the same direction, the new motion was taking the others.
She walked past the huddle of neighbors outside Dora’s house. She weaved through the array of law enforcement vehicles. When she made her way across the highway and into the other neighborhood, no one paid attention. She followed the wave of energy.
Voices squawked over radios. In the streets, officers shouted instructions to each other. Dogs barked in backyards. People sat in the shadows of their front porches. Kids peeked out windows. The dark made ordinary items look menacing.
Taylor just kept walking.