Elaine received a shipment a few days later with a new copy of Pictograms: the Evolution from Phrases to Syllables, and her heart went out immediately to that little boy found locked in the New York Public Library last weekend. She had been questioned that afternoon by the police, but was able to give little more information than what had been given to the two technicians. She reiterated that the boy should not be in trouble for being locked in here, and that the library was not interested in pressing any charges as no property was damaged, save a lone book that traveled with the child to the hospital. At the time the police had not been able to contact anyone who knew the child and no missing child reports had been issued matching the boy's description. All they had was a name to go by so far. "Two names actually, officer. Danny had a book with him written by Claire Jackson, PhD. I think she is his mother."
Elaine pulled out the police officer's phone number from her directory and dialed. "Yes, I would like to speak to Sgt. Kesselman. Yes. Thank you." Sgt. Kesselman's voice returned a questioning hello, and Elaine jumped into the conversation again. "Yes, Sgt. Kesselman? This is Elaine from the Humanitarian and Social Sciences Library. I'm just calling to check up on the situation with Danny Jackson."
The police officer cleared his throat. "Yes ma'am. We managed to find out he's in the foster care system and contacted his caseworker. We then visited the house he was assigned to, only to realize the foster parents didn't know he was missing. It's a damn shame too, they had so many children running around there, they might have never known. He's still in the custody of Mercy Hospital pending reassignment."
Elaine gasped. "Still in the hospital?"
"Yes ma'am. It turns out he got quite a beating before finding himself in the library. He was at a birthday party with some school kids when three of them took him out back and decided to teach a geek a lesson. One of the other kids went to the school principal with the story when Danny didn't show up to class on Monday."
"Other nine-year-olds did this to him?" Elaine cried out unbelievably.
"No ma'am. While Danny may be only nine, he's in the seventh grade over at Chester A. Arthur Middle School. And from what I understand, this was not the first time the kid got himself a lesson taught. The kid didn't seem to learn not to one-up kids three years older than he was in school." Sgt. Kesselman remembered a kid or two who one-upped him in school long ago, but he never went to the point of kicking the crap out of him. He realized though he probably would have enjoyed it at first. "They'll release him this afternoon if they've found a new home for him in the foster care network, but he'll be out of school for the better part of two weeks while his injuries heal."
"What kind of injuries did the boy have?" Elaine remembered the bruises as if the boy was still lying in front of her.
"Mostly bruising, but the doctor thinks he bruised a rib or two, and he's got himself a good concussion and some sort of arm injury. The boy was dehydrated and hadn't eaten in a couple of days it looked like, but they're mostly worried about the head injury… he hasn't talked since he woke up, in English anyways. And he just keeps holding onto that damned book. Won't let it go." Elaine braced the new copy against her chest and hugged it.
"Thank you for the information, officer. Just one last question before I let you go…" Elaine had to know the answer to this question. She didn't want to, but she had to know. "Where are his parents?"
The phone stood silent for a minute and she heard rustling papers in the background. The officer's response was preceded by another throat clearing. "Claire and Melbourne Jackson died in an accident last year at the New York Museum of Art when an exhibit they were building collapsed on them. They were killed instantly. Apparently young Danny witnessed the whole event. He's been in foster care since." Elaine put the phone down and sobbed quietly for just a moment.
"Thank you officer, thank you for that information." The phone call ended without a response from Sgt. Kesselman and hearing a new dial tone, Elaine hung up the phone.