I Wish (10 page)

Her voice sounded panicked. It frightened me more than anything I could’ve ever imagined. “Mom, where is he?”

She looked at me, sickly pale in the light of the bare bulb. “I don’t know.”

My head felt so full it might explode. “Did Henry go with you to the mall?”

“Yes.”

“Did you bring him home?”

“I can’t remember.” She took a hesitant step into the yard, the shopping bag slipping from her arm. She started toward the car. “I…”

“The mall closed a few minutes ago.” I swayed with the effort to stay controlled. “Did you leave Henry there alone?”

“I don’t know.” Tears rolled down her cheeks. “Maybe.”

“Grant,” I yelled, rubbing my tattoo. “Grant.”

“I’m here,” he said, stepping from the shadows.

“Did you—?”

“I heard it all. Let’s go.”

I snatched the keys from the worktable and chased him to the car. Within seconds, we were peeling out of the driveway.

“Please, please, don’t let there be a cop,” I said, racing through an intersection with no pretense of obeying traffic laws.

“There won’t be.”

He was right, whether by design or prediction, I didn’t know. We made it to the mall in record time.

The parking lot was deserted—a big yawning asphalt wasteland. The darkness was nearly complete, except for the streetlights casting eerie amber circles on the pavement.

I roared up to a department store, peering into the shadows surrounding the building. “Where is he?”

“Stop the car.”

My heart pounded so hard that my whole body was quaking. “Why? Do you see him? I see
nothing
.” I slammed on the brakes anyway. “Do you see him?”

“No. You’re driving too fast. I can’t tell where he is.” He shifted on the seat to face me, his expression grim. “Pull over to the curb.”

I parked where he indicated, in front of a drug store. The doors were closed. The lights were out. There were no little boys in sight. I leaned my head against the steering wheel and tried not to pass out.

“Calm down and listen, Chief. You have to trust me.”

“Okay,” I whispered. “He must be terrified.”

“Not helpful.” He touched me gently on the shoulder. “Remember that I have superior senses. If you’ll drive slowly around the perimeter of the mall, I’ll be able to divine his location. And when I say ‘stop,’ you stop. No questions.”

I nodded and put the car into motion. Slowly.

We crept by dark, silent storefronts. All ghostly shapes and shadows. I put on my high-beams, which permitted us to see
nothing
more clearly.

As we drove past the food-court entrance, Grant tensed and leaned forward.

“Stop.”

Before I’d completed braking, he slipped off his seatbelt and leapt from the car. “Henry.”

I punched it into PARK and jumped out. “Henry. It’s Lacey. Are you here?”

Grant was running toward the dumpsters. I focused with every fiber of my being on that area. A shadow twitched and stood.

“Lacey?” a small voice called.

“Henry.” If we’d been trains, there would’ve been a colossal wreck. A full-steam-ahead collision. The force nearly knocked me down. I hung onto his trembling body and hugged him tighter than anything I had ever known. “I’m so glad to see you,” I said and breathed in his sweaty, greasy, little-boy scent.

“Me too.”

I held him as if I would never let go. He was safe and real and I loved him.

Easing out of the embrace, I knelt to inspect his whole little person. “Are you okay?”

In the glow of the headlights, he looked wrinkled and flushed, like a newborn baby. But there were no tears. Just shiny eyes. “Yeah.”

I couldn’t help it. I hugged him again. “Were you scared?”

“No.” He hiccupped. “Not much.”

“That’s okay. I was scared enough for the both of us.” Over Henry’s shoulder, I could see Grant waiting, hands behind his back. I mouthed “thank you.” He inclined his head.

Henry squirmed in my hold, pulled away, and turned to look up at our BSB. “I hid over there.” He jerked his head toward the farthest dumpster.

“Wise choice,” Grant said and held out a fist. They bumped.

“I thought so,” Henry said.

When I struggled to my feet, Grant offered me a hand. I brushed dirt off my knees and gave in to the anger filling the void where my fear had been. “How did this happen, Henry?”

His chin wobbled. “It was my fault, Lacey. I wasn’t paying attention to what I was doing. I went into this toy store, and when I came back out, she was gone.” He nodded, over and over again. “You don’t need to be mad at Mom. Really.”

“Nice try.” My mother had totally done it now. I’d put up with her skulking around. Her insomnia and coffee-mania and crying fits. I’d tolerated being in charge, paying for everything, and hiding us from prying eyes. But I could not let her hurt Henry, no matter how much he wanted to protect her from my wrath. “When I get home—”

A hand cupped my shoulder and squeezed hard.

Surprised, I looked up.

Grant shook his head. “Stop,” he said.

I did.

For now.

Status Report #9
Saturday’s Wish: Heating, Ventilation, and Air Conditioning

Dear Boss,

I completed a reconditioning of the HVAC system this afternoon. It was installed only two years ago and was already in good repair. I did not point out to Chief that she had essentially wasted a wish.

The other parts of the day were unusually eventful.

I enjoyed Henry’s game. He’s a natural on the field and a leader for his team.

Afterwards, Chief called me a machine. I did not like that description. It is hardly accurate.

Chief stayed at home to watch a movie while her mother and brother paid a visit to a shopping mall. I thought that was a promising sign. My optimism was misplaced, however. Crystal Jones forgot her son. I can only imagine the terror Henry must have felt as he awaited his rescue.

As we hunted for him, Chief’s desperation thickened the air like smoke, filling me with every breath. If that is how empathy feels, I do not care for it.

Do you truly believe that emotional engagement will help on this case? The idea makes me uncomfortable. I do best when my thinking remains logical and objective.

Humbly submitted,
Grant

I
t was past midnight, and I still couldn’t sleep. My brother was safe in his bed. I knew this because I’d checked a dozen times in the last two hours. But I wouldn’t be able to relax until I figured out how I was going to keep him safe from
her
.

Why did things have to get so backwards in our house? Since she couldn’t be the adult, I knew that it had to be me. But that didn’t stop me from hating it—from wishing it was just over. I’d give anything to be a kid again and not to be the responsible one in the house. It was like I was trapped in a horrible virtual-reality game, except there was no way for me to quit.

I listened to the noises of the night. The whir of the fan blades. The hum of bugs hitting my window screen. The occasional bark of a dog. I lay on top of my quilt in my nightshirt and couldn’t rest.

At one o’clock, I gave up. Good thing it wasn’t a school day tomorrow. Or rather, today. I slid off the bed and tiptoed down the stairs. The sixth stair creaked as usual, but no one stirred. I paused at the bottom. Mom’s door was closed, as it had been all evening.

She did poke her head out when we brought Henry home and followed him into his room. Grant and I hovered outside the door, watching as she tousled Henry’s hair, kissed his brow, and whispered apologies over and over. My brother kept reassuring her that it was okay, although I thought his voice sounded a little quivery. After a few minutes, she came back out again, smiled vaguely at Grant, and then disappeared into her cave. She’d avoided eye contact with me.

Now, I nudged Henry’s door yet again, wanting to check one more time. The door swung inward with a soft suck of air. I crept to the side of his bed and concentrated on his breaths. They seemed regular enough. He had recovered.

I had not.

Where could I go to calm down?

Outside. I wanted to be outside. Carefully, I twisted the lock on the front door, pulled it open a few inches, and slipped through.

The temperature had dropped dramatically. At this hour, the air was cool and dry. A light breeze ruffled my hair, wrapping me in the scent of cedar from the trees edging our yard.

I perched on the top step of the front porch and savored the night. I wasn’t sure what it said about me, but I liked the solitude. It felt bold, sitting out here all alone.

My eyes strayed to the wrist tattoo. Overlapping leaves. Or chained hearts. Which was it? Or maybe I was thinking too hard.

“Hello,” said Grant.

I hadn’t consciously summoned him. Yet here he was and I was glad. Because I liked being bold and not alone. “Thank you.”

He plopped onto the step beside me. “She needs professional help.”

Maybe being alone wasn’t so bad. “Not an option at the moment.”

“Her depression is serious. She may require medication.”

As if I hadn’t thought of that already and nagged my mom until we were both worn out about it. “She has pills. She doesn’t take them.”

“Someone must persuade her to start again.” Concern radiated from his body. “This night’s lapse of judgment endangered her child. You have to get her help.”

Shut. Up
. “No.”

“It could be worse next time.”

I sprang to my feet, too agitated to sit still. “We can’t afford her psychiatrist.”

“There are free mental health clinics.”

“No.” Free clinics were too nosy. I couldn’t have them getting curious about my family.

He rose too. “What is wrong with finding another therapist? A new one might convince her to resume her medication.”

“Why are you pushing this?”

“Why are you being so stubborn? I don’t understand how you can give up on her.”

“I haven’t, but I can’t
make
her act like a grownup.” I whipped around to face him, disturbed by how judgmental he was being. Did he honestly believe I would give up on my own mother? Didn’t he see that this was much bigger than her? “What if helping my mom backfires for Henry?”

“Henry?” Surprise colored his voice. “How could helping her possibly
hurt
him?”

I didn’t want to explain, as if speaking the words made them more likely to come true. But there Grant stood, waiting. I couldn’t have survived this evening without him. We were his business now. He deserved to know the real reason.

“They could take him away.” The statement floated on the air, a faint whisper. It was my greatest fear, and it sounded far worse spoken out loud than it ever had inside my head.

“Who would take him away?”

“Child Protective Services…”

“Why would you think that, Chief?”

“I spent some time in foster care after my dad died. I know what it feels like.” I had to wait three days for the judge to release me from temporary custody and turn me over to my mom. It had been terrifying, even though the people who took me in had been nice. My sides ached with the effort to breathe. “I’m not eighteen. I’m not old enough to be named Henry’s guardian. If they decide my mom can’t care for us, CPS could put him in foster care too.” There were other possibilities that were even worse. I’d heard horrible things about group homes where they housed boys of all ages. Most of the time, the boys were returned to their families—but in the meantime, scary things could happen.

“Then don’t go to the government. There are local churches that will have private therapy groups.”

“I don’t trust them to keep quiet.” Unable to remain still, I paced a few steps out into the front yard and then back again. “I don’t mean for this to hurt my mom, but I can’t risk losing Henry. I couldn’t handle that.”

Grant waited in silence, still as a statue, shielded by the night. I hadn’t convinced him.

I ought to go in and try to sleep. “Goodnight,” I murmured, stepping past him.

“When is your birthday?”

I hesitated. “Six more weeks.”

“What will you do about Henry until then?”

“I don’t know.” October twenty-eighth couldn’t get here soon enough for my peace of mind. After that, I could be the legal adult in the home, and Henry would be safe. We had to hold out a little longer, and the incident tonight made it harder. My mom had barely been helping with Henry, and now I couldn’t let her help at all. “I can’t leave him alone with her, and I can’t afford to quit my job.”

“Can you ask one of your neighbors for help?”

“No. Mom took care of that. Not long after Josh’s funeral, when she was having a really bad day, Mom told a lady down the street not to bother us with questions or casseroles. Word got around fast. We haven’t been ‘bothered’ since.”

“What about family members?”

I snorted. Josh’s parents were dead. Mom’s parents had disappeared, whereabouts unknown. And while my Linden grandparents might help
me
, they had made it clear that Henry was not their problem. “Family isn’t an option.”

“I can stay with Henry when he’s at home.”

An automatic refusal sprang to my lips, but I bit it back. His suggestion had potential, at least temporarily. It would give me three weeks to figure out something better. “Will it cost me any wishes?”

He released a noisy sigh. “It’s on the house.”

They would bond big time, and Henry would be crushed when Grant left, but the time had come to trust my BSB. He’d proven himself worthy of it tonight, and I could use his help with Henry.