Where is the Baby? (5 page)

Without looking up from his labored poking at the keys as he dealt with his share of the reports, Hal said, ‘I know where your head's at, buddy, and you need to get it together. Those two are going
a
-
way
for a hundred lifetimes. ‘'Course, bein' pervs, they'll be lucky to survive a week inside – cons loving child molesters the way they do – which won't break anybody's heart. Just do your job, man, and stop picturing yourself takin' them out. Mother Justice is gonna take care of those two sick fucks.'

‘Hope you're right,' Brian said, wanting to take something, anything – a pill, a rye and ginger, a voodoo potion – that would untie the knot in his gut.

When he finally got home, his relief and the surge of emotion he felt at the sight of his wife and daughter made him tearful again. Twice in one day. Maybe he was starting to lose it, and it was time to do a Chuck, take the sergeant's exam and ride a promotion indoors to a desk.

‘What's the matter?' Janet asked after Lucia had been put to bed. He was a sensitive guy, which was why she adored him, but she'd never seen him in such a state. Then, suddenly, the dots connected and she said, ‘Were you and Hal the responding unit at the Kmart today?'

‘Yeah. It was—' He shook his head and then it came out in a rush. ‘In all my time on the force, I've never . . . That little girl, Jan. Maybe six years old, tops. I asked her, “What's your name?” and she said, “Humaby.” I'm so damn dense, I didn't get it. I just thought it was some kind of foreign name. Hal had to clue me in later. Those two evil pervs called her Hump Baby.'

‘God!' Janet's expression perfectly matched his feelings. She was a civilian worker in dispatch and had heard a lot of rotten stuff in her time at the job, but this was horrific. She thought of Lucia, asleep upstairs, thought of anyone harming her, selling her body to grown men, and at once had to push it away – a mother's worst nightmare.

‘I promised her I'd go back to see her tonight, Jan. She's all alone and probably scared, even though she does a good job of hiding how she's feeling. I mean, God knows how long she was kept in that van. Her teeth have never been brushed and she didn't even know what a bath is. You don't mind, do you?'

‘Be serious, Bri. Of course I don't mind.' She looked at her watch, and said, ‘You should probably head out or she'll be asleep. Wait one, okay?'

‘Sure.' He watched her take the stairs two at a time, loving the fact that she talked the talk. Stupid maybe, but he felt closer to her because of it – as if she was one of them, another cop. In more ways than one, she was. And in other, deeply important ways, she wasn't. He'd managed to find someone who was a perfect fit.

She came back with a floppy rabbit that had been a gift from one of her aunts, but Lucia never played with it. ‘Take her this, Bri. It's only going to sit here on the shelf until we give it to the Goodwill or something.'

‘Jan, I was thinking. If they can't find her family—'

‘We should offer to take her.'

‘God, I hoped you'd say that!' he said fervently. ‘She's so . . . it's . . .'

‘I understand. Get going now.'

She'd been put in a private room, with a rookie who looked about twelve sitting guard in the hall. His chair tilted back against the wall, he was reading an old
Newsweek
. Brian said hi and badged him, then paused in the doorway.

Propped up by a couple of pillows, lit from above by the bed lamp, the child was alternately gazing at the wall-mounted TV that was tuned to
Let's Make a Deal
, of all things, and turning a teddy bear this way and that, as if she couldn't figure out what it was.

Now that she'd been cleaned up and her injuries bandaged, aside from the chopped-off hair that was half a dozen different lengths and far lighter in color after being washed, she looked like an ordinary kid, maybe here to have her tonsils out – something minor like that. Yet she was about as far removed from ordinary as it was possible to get.

Finding a smile, he walked into the room, saying, ‘Hiya, honey. How're you doing?'

‘Mister Brian!' she said, her thoughtful expression brightening. ‘You comed back.'

‘I said I would. D'you mind if I turn off the TV?' he asked, reaching for the remote.

‘Okay,' she said. ‘I don't like it.'

‘This is kind of a silly show for grown-ups, but there are some terrific TV shows for kids, like
Sesame
Street
and
The
Electric
Company
,
Mister
Rogers
. Those're good, but they're not on at this time of day. So what've you got there?'

‘The old lady said it's a teddy bear.'

‘That's what it is, all right.'

‘I don't know what to do with it.'

He pulled over a chair and sat down. ‘It's like a friend, kind of; something you can keep with you. I brought you this guy,' he said, giving her the floppy rabbit.

‘Thank you, Mister Brian,' she said politely. ‘What is it?'

‘It's a bunny rabbit.'

‘Another friend?'

‘Yup.'

She placed it on her lap next to the teddy bear. ‘They're different.'

‘Right. One's a bear, the other one's a rabbit. Bears and rabbits are animals.'

‘Like dogs and cats?'

‘Yup. There are all different kinds of animals.'

‘Oh!'

Watching her soberly study the toys, he realized he'd yet to see her smile or hear her laugh. Things that were everyday to Lucia were completely unknown to this kid. ‘The thing about stuffed toys,' he elaborated, ‘is they make you feel good when you hold them. They don't
do
or
mean
anything. They're just cute and soft and nice to hold.'

‘I never had one before.'

‘You'll probably be getting lots of them.'

‘Why?'

He bit back the comment he was going to make about her family. There was no guarantee they'd be found. Instead, he said, ‘Because you did something important today. You saved the baby.'

‘I did?'

‘You sure did. Lots of people, not just the parents, are very happy about that and want to do nice things for you. When people want to do nice things for a child they usually give you toys and stuff. Because most kids like those things.'

She nodded thoughtfully and went back to inspecting the rabbit and teddy bear. Taking advantage of her distraction, he walked to the foot of the bed to have a look at her chart. He started reading it, but had to stop and sit down with it, taking deep, measured breaths for a minute before he was able to continue.

Poor kid had suspected gonorrhea everywhere, including the throat, suspected trichomoniasis (whatever that was), seriously damaged and/or perforated internal organs that warranted surgery. She'd been prescribed a whole list of drugs and ointments. Surgery would be scheduled pending results of blood work, and a psych consult had been recommended for the next day. Feeling queasy, he got up, put the chart back – her eyes now tracking him – then resumed his seat.

‘You look diff'rent, Mister Brian.'

‘Yeah, I changed out of my uniform when I went home.'

‘Oh! Did you see Lucia?'

He had to smile. ‘Yeah, me and her mom gave her a bath and put her to bed before I came over.'

‘I had a bath.'

‘I can see that.'

‘The white lady put bubbles in her hand and told me to blow them. Why did she do that?'

‘Most people like bubbles. I guess 'cause they're pretty. What'd you have for dinner?' he asked, then saw by her blank look that this was another word she didn't know, so he rephrased. ‘What did they give you to eat?'

Her hands holding the bear and rabbit steady on her lap, she said, ‘Things I didn't never have before. One of the white ladies—'

‘Do you mean the nurses, honey?'

‘That's what you call them? The ladies with the white dresses?'

‘Yup.'

‘Oh! Okay. One of the nurse ladies said it was smashed toes and middle oaf and grinbins.'

He burst out laughing, and for the first time he saw a hint of a smile curl the corners of her mouth.

‘What's funny, Mister Brian?'

He leaned closer to her and, enunciating with care, said, ‘You had mashed potatoes, meat loaf and green beans.'

‘I was funny, what I said, wasn't I?'

‘Yeah, you were, but in a good way. Did you have anything else?'

‘Yeah.' She paused, that hinting smile returning. ‘Cusperd.'

He laughed again, then corrected her. ‘Custard.'

‘It was shit!' She made a face. ‘Do I have to have that all the time?'

Forcing himself not to laugh again, he said, ‘I doubt it. Listen, honey, little children aren't supposed to say words like “shit.”'

Sober at once, shrinking back a bit, she said, ‘I'm sorry. I'll be good. I'm sorry.'

‘No, no. It's okay, it's okay. Nobody around here's going to get mad at you for making mistakes or for not knowing what things are. You're a smart girl and you'll learn lots of new things.'

‘Like what?'

‘Well, let's see. How to read and to write, and about games and toys. Lots of things.' How to have fun, he thought. How to stop being so afraid, how to laugh out loud. Maybe how to cry, too.

‘Wolf and Toadman read paper books with pictures.'

‘I think you mean magazines. Those're bigger and thinner than books and usually have pictures.'

‘Yeah, magozeens. Pictures are like what Miss Connie did, right?'

‘In a way. There are all different kinds of magazines. Some are called fashion magazines and usually women and girls like those. Men and boys usually like the ones that have cars and boats and hobbies, stuff like that.'

‘And nekkid fuck pictures.'

‘Those are not good pictures,' he said carefully, shocked. ‘And that's another word little children aren't supposed to say.'

‘Fuck?'

‘Yeah. That's not a good word at all, honey.'

‘I won't say it anymore, Mister Brian.'

‘Good girl.' He noticed that her hand was now tightly clutching the stuffed rabbit and worry had put a crease between her brows. ‘You'll learn which words are good and which ones are not all right.'

‘Okay,' she said with apparent doubt.

‘You're gonna do fine. You're a smart girl, like I said.'

‘Mister Brian, when'm I gonna see the baby?'

‘Maybe tomorrow. I know the parents want to meet you.'

‘Why?'

‘Because you rescued their baby, honey. They want to thank you.'

‘I really want to see the baby . . . Maybe she misses me . . .'

It was killing him. He had no idea what to say, no idea if she'd get to see the baby. As he was fumbling for some kind of answer, a young nurse came in carrying a small tray with a paper cup of water, a saucer, a tiny cupful of meds, two spoons and a piece of banana.

‘Time for your medicine, kiddo,' she announced. Setting the tray on the bedside table, she said, ‘I know you don't like the pills, so I'm going to smoosh 'em up with some banana. Okay?'

‘'Kay.'

‘I should go now,' Brian said. ‘It's past your bedtime.'

‘No, it isn't, Mister Brian.'

‘Yeah, honey. I think it is.'

‘What's gonna happen to me?' she asked, grabbing hold of his sleeve.

‘The doctors and nurses are going to make you better while we try to find your family.'

‘Toadman and Wolf said
they
was my family.'

‘I don't believe that's true. But if it is, then we'll find you a nice
new
family, a better one.'

‘How long do I have to stay here?'

‘I honestly don't know.' He looked at the nurse, who was mashing up several tablets. ‘As long as it takes to make you healthy.'

‘Will you come see me again, please, Mister Brian?'

‘Yes, I will.' He stroked the back of her hand, then eased his sleeve free from her grip. ‘That's a promise. Have a good sleep, honey, and I'll see you soon.'

‘Okay, now,' the young nurse said, drawing the child's eyes to her and giving Brian a chance to slip out of the room. ‘You won't taste this at all.'

‘It won't be bitter?'

‘Nope. Bananas are yummy.'

The child was asking, ‘What's that mean, yummy?' as Brian went out the door.

D
uring her drive to the hotel, Connie had an idea. Upon arriving, she made a quick call from the house phone in the lobby, explained what she wanted, then left money with the doorman to pay for the package. Throughout the anniversary party she was so anxious to get back to the hospital it was all she could do to focus on the job. As a result, she knew she'd have a hard time finding enough good shots to satisfy the client if she didn't shoot a couple of extra rolls. Finished at last, she collected her package from the doorman, gave him a good tip, then hurried out to the car.

It was almost nine when she got to the hospital and made her way to the pediatric floor. As the elevator heaved its way upward, in the unconscionably slow fashion typical of hospital elevators, she again reviewed her time with Officer Kirlane and the little girl in the ER. She knew without question that he had returned to see the child. He was a man of his word, a good man.

She showed her ID to the policeman on duty in the hall, who looked like a high school student not old enough for the job. ‘I won't wake her if she's asleep, but I promised her I'd come back.'

‘Sure, no problem. Officer Kirlane told me you might be coming. Go on in,' he said, returning his attention to a tattered copy of
National
Geographic
he'd found in one of the waiting rooms. It was all he could do to stay awake and he was counting down the hours until his replacement came on at midnight.