J A M E S

 

It was growing dark. He worried the darkness would swallow his little girl, who was still but a morsel in a hazardous world teeming with insatiable dangers. If before he’d found some selfish reassurance in the thought of her absence from the house, now all he wanted was for her to come home. If only the moon, which they’d always enjoyed gazing on together, would extend its hand and show him where she was.

He understood her fear, her reasons for fleeing, and even his own failures—but from his paternal perspective her life was worth saving at all costs, even if there were side effects. And he wouldn’t abandon the prayer that the growth process could inexplicably reverse itself. If one could grow beyond the parameters of human reality, wasn’t shrinking a possibility too? He’d even be grateful for a Lilly who shrank too much—a miniature who could reside in her dollhouse. The smaller she was the easier it would be to keep her safe, so long as he tread carefully.

A police officer was still there—on the pretext of his helpful presence—but James didn’t like the official scent he carried, the Worst-Day-of-Your-Life sweat that wouldn’t wash out of his blue uniform. Nor did James like him occupying the space where Lilly belonged, across from him at the kitchen table. People were calling in unhelpful claims from all over the county: A mysterious giant had been sighted in a farmer’s pasture, singing to his sheep; several witnesses reported a tall girl on a unicycle (or was it a girl on a tall unicycle?), speeding north as she clutched a large rabbit.

James thought it ridiculous when the officer asked if Lilly knew how to ride such an apparatus, or if she had a pet rabbit, but at least the press was gone now. The news alert was everywhere; the guilt-stricken navy-haired photographer had spread the word. When the doorbell rang the officer answered it while James stayed in the kitchen, wracking his brain. Where did Lilly believe the Village of Wrong Things might be? Had he joked about it once, when she was very young? Did he tell her it was near the North Pole?

“I wanted to drop this off for James, we’re all praying for Lilly.”

Recognizing Kendra’s voice, James scurried to the door and found her holding a foil-covered casserole dish. He burst into tears.

“Oh darlin’!” Kendra pushed past the officer and guided James back to the kitchen. She slid the casserole into the fridge, and sat with him at the table, patting his hand.

“She’s gonna be just fine—big, headstrong girl—this is just her way of saying she’s unhappy, and then she’ll miss her home and hurry back.”

“I didn’t know she was so unhappy,” he wailed.

“Of course, you’re a man, what can you understand about girls.” She offered him a tissue and he blew his nose.

“But I’ve known her her whole life! We’ve always been a team, I’d do anything for her.”

“Mr. Wolf?” The police officer hurried over, cellphone to his ear. “We have a possible lead.”

James snuffled, quickly wiping his tears. “Yes?”

“A motorist reported seeing an exceptionally statuesque person in a red hoodie—”

“That’s Lilly!” He squeezed Kendra’s hand.

“I made that hoodie!”

“—get into a white van. They got part of the license plate and described a number of stickers, and we think it matches a vehicle belonging to a Dr. Traugott Kempner.”

“That’s one of Lilly’s doctors!” He sprang to his feet.

“You see the power of prayer? God is good!”

As Kendra and James embraced, bouncing up and down, the officer finished his phone conversation. The skeptical part of James didn’t think God deserved all—or any—of the credit, not when his daughter had been smart enough to hitch a ride with someone she knew. He didn’t wonder in that moment why Dr. Kempner hadn’t taken Lilly straight to the hospital (or home), or at least called him; he was simply glad she was safe.

“They’ll send someone over to the address and report back,” said the patrolman.

“What a relief!” James practically sang.

The mood became festive and Kendra retrieved her casserole and heated up plates of food. They sat together to celebrate—even the patrolman.

“What a scare she gave me,” said James, shoveling noodles into his mouth at the rate of a man who hadn’t eaten all day.

Kendra said a quick and silent prayer before she joined in. “It’s a testament to how much we love our kids that they’re so capable of scaring us.”

“That’s the truth,” the officer agreed.

James, who hadn’t realized how remiss he’d been before, asked Kendra about her own family. And the patrolman, Wesley, described his. Seated around the cozy table, swapping tales of parental close calls, James anticipated the imminent good ending to his own story. His daughter would be home soon. Given all she’d gone through, the stresses and titanic changes, he wouldn’t even reprimand her for running away. He just wanted to wrap his arms around her (hopefully she wouldn’t squeeze back too hard) and feel the throb of her heart, and know Lilly was back where she belonged.