J A M E S

 

The steam from his coffee mug tickled his nose, trying to awaken him. Head on hand, he sat at the kitchen table feeling utterly worthless. His thoughts took up sides and fought a war he couldn’t mediate.

She’s fragile, vulnerable, your little girl.

She’s colossal and capable of killing with her bare hands.

She needs you, she’s alone.

You can’t help her.

You love her more than anything.

Who is she…. WHAT is she?

A good father wouldn’t sit there doing nothing. A good father would be out with his parents and in-laws and the other search teams. A good father wouldn’t make useless mental lists of the things he should have done differently.

1) Stayed home with her instead of going to church.

2) Had a talk about boys. And men.

3) Bought her a mothereffing cellphone.

4) Given the kid the damn hug she needed.

When Lilly was five and afraid of thunderstorms, she liked to make a nest in the bathtub with pillows and stuffed animals. She felt safe there, and James would sit on the fluffy bathmat and read her stories until the storms passed. It pierced him, like a power drill aerating his heart, that in her current size she was too big for a hidey-hole, a blanket fort, or any other place of comfort where she might seek refuge. He imagined her walking alone, mile after mile, and the image threatened to undo him. And yet…. He was still sitting there.

The police said it was okay—that he could stay behind while they searched, in case Lilly came home. He couldn’t admit to anyone that he was afraid of finding her, afraid of seeing her and what she’d become.

Only a monster would find consolation in imagining his child as a wounded animal seeking a quiet place to die—a hedge to huddle beneath, a church basement left unlocked. He didn’t lack empathy. To the contrary, whenever he tried to calculate his own pain he remembered hers, on a scale so great it couldn’t be measured. Her size hadn’t saved her from being raped. He couldn’t imagine what she’d suffered—in that moment, or the ones after.

Maybe she felt shame, or that she’d done something wrong. If only he could tell her he was glad Dr. Kempner was dead, though he wished he could’ve killed him. His teeth gnashed at the savage desire to rip out the pedophile’s throat. If only James could’ve admitted—to Lilly, to himself—that some things couldn’t be fixed. Then she wouldn’t have left, and he could’ve spent her remaining days, however many there were, making her wishes come true.

Such sentimental thoughts for a man who’d promised his child unconditional love, and then reneged.

Go find her, she needs you!

She ran away from YOU, dinglehead!

The doorbell rang.

He took a gulp of coffee, unsure about answering it. It rang again. The jolt of caffeine triggered a reminder to get off his lazy ass.

It was probably a reporter, perhaps with an apology (to his shock, several had come by for that purpose)—or a neighbor bearing food. People were being nice and the least he could do was accept their kindness. When he opened the door it was Rain; Michelle waited in the driveway, the car idling. He held up his hand, the greeting of a tired robot, and Michelle nodded back, her face grim.

“Shouldn’t you be at school?” he asked Rain.

“I couldn’t. I really wanted to go looking for her, and Mom said I could but she’s already super late for work. We, I…I was hoping, maybe we—you and me—could we look for Lilly?”

There were tears in her words and it shook James to the core, snapped him back to a reality where people were hurt by Lilly’s absence and hadn’t given up. He was the only person who ever forgot she was a blameless child, in need of love and safety regardless of…. Regardless. Rain gazed at him, expectant, and he couldn’t let her down.

“That’s a good idea, I didn’t want to go by myself,” he said.

Rain grinned, and gave her mom a thumb’s up.

“I’ll have her home by supper,” he called to Michelle. She looked happier too, and waved before backing out of the driveway.

He let Rain in and hurried off to his bedroom to tidy his appearance and put on his shoes. There was no reason for such excitement, but this—driving around with Lilly’s best friend—suddenly seemed like The Thing To Do. The necessary action that had eluded him all morning while he stewed in his mistakes.

 

 

Minutes later they were on the road, Rain buckled in beside him, angled toward the window. They didn’t talk much. He didn’t know what to say to Rain, to comfort her, though he’d done his best the previous night to reassure her that this absolutely was not her fault. Without Lilly, they were missing the connective tissue that made their relationship exist. Who was Lilly’s Dad without Lilly? He told himself it was better not to distract Rain, who focused on the scenery with the intensity of someone trying to puzzle together an elaborate sequence of code.

All the search parties started at Devil Kempner’s place, working outward by foot or car. James pulled onto the berm across from the hideous Victorian mansion. Up on the grassy hill was a Crime Unit van. He and Rain gazed at the scene from afar.

“Is that where it happened?” Rain asked in a small voice.

James wasn’t sure how much her parents had told her. He wouldn’t have included the rumor of Lilly’s rape; he still hoped it wasn’t true. She might have clobbered Kempner before things got that far. “Yes. She was here.”

“I’m glad she killed him.”

He turned to the girl beside him. She looked older in her subdued state. Her eyes betrayed her difficult night, the shadows of her troubled sleep, the discolored aftereffects of tears. He’d always liked Rain, smart and loyal and spunky. Now he saw the killer in her, waiting—the part of her that didn’t care about being nice. Did all girls have it? Would he have seen it in Lilly if he’d looked harder?

“I’m glad too.”

Rain gave him a half-smile of approval.

If there weren’t other apartments in the house, James might have set it on fire. Another of his useless musings. As the police continued gathering evidence from the devil’s lair, James pulled back onto the road and headed onward. Lilly wouldn’t have turned around, she’d have kept going in the most obvious direction that led her away.

 

 

“We’ll be back in business soon!” he called over to Rain. “See, don’t even need a tow truck.”

“Okay!”

Rain sat on a moss-covered rock across from the ditch.

Fortunately, he kept a stash of peanut butter crackers in the glove compartment, along with some juice pouches. Rain didn’t eat as much as Lilly, but he’d been promising her a lunch stop for almost an hour (fifty minutes of which had been spent loosening lug nuts). Even before the flat tire, they’d made little progress in finding either Lilly or a place to eat.

The winding wooded road went on forever and several times James had suggested they backtrack and try the left branch of the fork; Rain urged him on. He couldn’t imagine Lilly walking this far, especially without being spotted. Rain thought she might hide behind a tree, so periodically she yelled Lilly’s name out the window. She wasn’t ready to give up, so they’d go a bit farther—as soon as he got the tire changed.

For now, Rain seemed happy enough with her snack,

and he was pleased when the tire came off easily (unlike the

lug nuts). Good thing, because his phone wouldn’t get a signal

and he’d had to abandon his original plan of calling for help.

He sopped his sweaty brow with the sleeve of his shirt. Just as he was about to retrieve the spare from the trunk, the woodland sounds were replaced by the diesel-engine roar of an approaching truck. Before he could wonder why he hadn’t heard it sooner, the truck rounded the curve ahead of them and barreled their way. Since leaving the Scene of the Crime, he’d flashed his high beams at the few cars they’d passed, and asked through the window if anyone had seen a very tall girl. There wasn’t time to leap into the car and signal, but Rain was one step ahead of him. From her rock perch she jumped up and waved her arms.

The truck squealed to a stop and a shaggy, bearded man hung his head out the open window.

“Ya need a bit of help?” he asked, his accent thickly Scottish.

“We’re looking for my friend, she’s very, very tall and her name’s—”

“You mean Lilly?”

“Yes! Have you seen her?”

“Aye, would you be Rain then?”

James dropped the spare tire on his foot. He grabbed the crowbar and marched, limping a little, toward the hulking truck.

“What do you know about my daughter?” If this pervert knew about Rain then he must’ve spent time with Lilly. “Is she in there? Do you have her?” He climbed up the driver’s-side steps, ready to crawl through the window. “Lilly!”

“Hold on now, you’re Lilly’s dad? Wait! Let me explain!” He held his hands up to surrender.

James had never seen anyone react to him with such fear, and it humbled him. He retreated, but still kept the crowbar raised as he gave the big man enough space to get out of his truck.

Rain, looking more brave than James felt, hopped off her rock and strode right up to the truck driver. “Where is Lilly?”

“I found her alongside the road—this one here, but farther back the way you came. She was troubled, and looking for a village. I wasn’t positive of the whereabouts, but I felt I knew who would. Lilly begged me to give her a ride.”

“You. Gave a lost child. A ride?” James sputtered. “And you never once thought to bring her home?”

The man took a step backward, his hands pleading please-don’t-hit-me, as James advanced. “Sir, I don’t think you understand—your daughter was in a pickle of a problem. I did what I could to help her.”

“If you laid one hand—”

“No! Of course not! What do you take me for?”

James’s brain hammered exclamation points against his skull. This bearded barbarian seemed earnest enough, if utterly stupid when it came to children and commonsense. A part of him still wanted to clobber the man, but he was the best lead they had in the search for Lilly.

“Why didn’t she call me? Where did you take her?”

“Can you take us there?” Rain asked, calm and reasonable.

As the driver considered her his features softened. When relaxed, he looked less like an ogre and more…noble. Something hopeful brightened his face. “She spoke of you, on our drive. She hated leaving you behind, but she didn’t want to entangle you in her troubles.”

“She’s all right then?” Rain asked.

“She’s all right, for a girl who finds herself in an unexpected condition.” He turned to James. “I couldn’t call because I don’t have a phone; wouldn’t work here anyway. I took her to the ladies, I know they can help.”

“Who are the ladies?”

“What’s your name?” Rain asked, before James’s question could be answered.

“Angus.”

“Thank you for helping Lilly,” she said.

This was the problem with girls: they couldn’t figure out who to trust. Rain might be ready to believe anything Angus said, but James certainly wasn’t. “I think we should call the police and have them take it from here.”

“We don’t need the police—can you take us to Lilly?”

“Yes, lass.” To James he added, “But the police can’t come where we’re going—and before you get mad at me for it, it’s not my doing. Some places are particular about who can visit. Lilly opened the door for you, a blood relative, and Rain would always be welcome.”

“Let’s go!” Rain sprinted toward the passenger side of the truck. There was no way James could let her go alone, but things were shifting in wonky ways and he didn’t know what to do. This man wasn’t making much sense, but what were the options? He looked back at his car.

“I promised Rain’s mom I’d have her home for supper—is it far?”

“It’s a fair way, but the return trip is much easier, a fraction of the time.”

“Come on!” Rain climbed up and opened the door.

James still hesitated. Once he’d felt so sure of the minutes in an hour and the effortless rotation of the earth on its axis. Reality had become stickier with Lilly’s unceasing growth. He half expected his feet to be too heavy to lift—or, if gravity changed the other way, he might drift off into the sky.

Nodding, he took the crowbar to his trunk, dumped the spare in, shut it tight.

Rain crawled onto the little bench behind the front seats as James got in the cab.

“Oh! This is Lilly’s!” She held up a proportionally large red backpack.

“She must’ve forgotten it, me as well,” Angus said, closing his door and revving up the engine. He drove forward until the berm was wide enough for him to turn around.

Once they were heading the right direction, Angus turned

to James, who felt as queasy as a man rocketing into space.

“I think it’s very fortunate our paths crossed, Lilly’s Dad.”

“James, I’m James,” he mumbled.

“Her need was urgent, but the ladies understand such things. She’s going to want you to see—and her friend as well—that she’s going to be all right. More than all right.”

Rain rested her elbows on the back of their seats so her grinning face hung between them. “Does that mean the ladies can help her stop growing?”

“Well, a person has to grow in the direction their life takes them, so it isn’t about stopping her. But the ladies will help her settle into her best self, that they’ll do.”

And with that, they entered a tunnel. James felt himself sliding down the gullet of a long-throated animal. He wanted to resist, to fight, to question—to at least stay awake. The darkness was too tempting and the last word he uttered was “Who…?”