The day didn't fit. It was too bright out; sunny, and can you believe it, not even one cloud drifting by. The people too happy and into their smiles to notice something wrong going on around them. Not until the blotch of darkness was placed into their attention did the laughter, frisbee tossing, picnicking, and music bopping come to a standstill as they were forced to notice the darkness that completely consumed the persons bringing it into light. Crushing the light, destroying it. Ruining smiles into a contemplation before guilt over lack of knowing, and for some lack of genuinely even trying to care. It was a shame, but it wasn't their problem.
All Paula could do, as she made photocopies of her missing child was to tell herself that it was her fault. If she had gone with him… Elliot would be fine. He'd still be home. Had she gone with him, whatever clever words and tricks wouldn't have lured him away. He'd want to ask his mother, check with her first about what some unknown danger was trying to give him.
But, she wasn't there. Just the danger was. And it knew it. It had to have known that Elliot was alone, any single glance can spot a child not quickly claimed when the "let's go home" names begin to get called.
Bobby! Lawrence! Tina! Bijou! ...No one called Elliot. No one told him, come on home.
'It's all my fault,' chants his mother, her legs having given out from emotional weakness rather than looking strength. 'It's all my fault, it's all my fault…' She sniffled and muttered out loud. "It's all my fault." Standing, though her tears keep her in place, she takes a moment to clear her vision before continuing around the area in search of any bit of information as to where her son could be.
Arc walked from person to person around the pet adoption shelter, asking them if they've seen his cousin. It wasn't easy to do, not the looking for Elliot part; that was a no brainer, he'll do whatever it takes; it's the fact that right before the call came in about his cousin's disappearance, he told his father that he wants to talk… worse than that, he told him exactly why. That's when the phone rang. The line tethering communication ripped easily, as it was already so strained between them. And now his father will come up with all sorts of things to deflect the conversation and whitewash over the entirety of it. He doesn't want details, he has no need for things like that; but he'd like to know why he wasn't told? Why he could lied to to go on thinking that his mother was this great woman when really… she was a monster.
He had to deal out more than a few Cesar Milan 'Ccchs' to keep the excited dogs from pouncing on potential homes for themselves, when all the padestrians wanted was to get by on the sidewalk without having to be made aware an animal went by from stepping into unattended to fecal matter. The dogs calmed down and stood about, wandering with him as he walked up the street as far as he could go searching for relief that hs cousin is alright, and is currently eating a taffy at the police station.
Normally he'd find it cool the way his dad took the call from aunt Paula, then hung up and as he spoke to him he dialed up the force and rounded up a search party. Then he recalled exactly what his father specializes in dealing with. Serious crimes, especially ones involving children; his dad never went into detail, but thinking about it- what he'd read about his parents- isn't that why? Words like sex crimes, and pedophilia. It's not something you want to detail to your children. Frankly, he'd rather hear that the boogey man is real, then to know there are people like that- that his mother was like that- in the world...
'Elliot... Please be ok before you're found.' He prayed as he hands out another two flyers.
Rocky isn't sure which was worse. The sick feeling in his stomach because of Elliot's sudden disappearance or the fact that Arc knows about his mother and wants to talk about it. No. Elliot's disappearance is by far worse. He can't believe his selfish nerves to think a mere conversation with his son could compare. But, dammit, his nerves are on edge. Arc would be by his side now if it weren't for the fleet of dogs the boy has with him. If seven dogs can't protect his son, then his martials arts skills should be a nice follow up against whomever took his nephew.
And Rocky's insides are twisted in knots. What if this is somehow his fault. That some bastard from his job tracked him home and took his nephew believing Elliot to be his son. He doesn't even know what he would do with so much guilt build up. It's not fair. It isn't fair, if that's what happened to Elliot.
"Excuse me, can you please look at this?" He asked someone who tried to skirt past him without taking a flyer.
"I don't have time for this, I'm gonna be late," the woman reached for the knob of her car, ready to flee the area of any hold-ups.
"Ma'am, don't be that way. Look at the picture," he shoves it in her face before she can duck into the protection of her car. His forceful tone gave her the slightest pause, and the obstructing printout wasn't without its purpose for halting her retreat. "Look good and hard; because if it was you who was missing, do you want the only possible means of help to barely give your identity the finger?"
"That's a bit harsh,"
"Life is harsh, caring is easy. Now look at the photo of my nephew," he hands it her. His tone returned to it's usual softness. "Have you seen him? Even if it was a glance; he was at the park today; he would have came along this street, if he was heading home."
The woman looked at the colorful photo printed to the paper, reading the small description the missing child became unexpectedly. It was Elliot's school photo, showing the world his big dimple cheeked grin that rivaled the sun, an extra twinkle in his mischievous brown eyes, the missing bottom tooth.
"I haven't seen him," she shook her head; handing the photo back to him, she sighed from frustration when the flyer was handed back.
"Keep it, so you don't forget him. Show it to others… please. He's just a child."
"Okay. I'm sorry your nephew is missing, but really…" she climbs into her car. "Good luck."
He mumbled a dry thank you, then continued with the search, wishing he hadn't been held up, especially if the hold up wasn't related to having seen Elliot. He knows the first 48 hours are the most crucial. Because whoever took Elliot would still be on the move with him.
"Have you seen our cousin?" The twins ask in unison to a family that's exiting the local Dunkin Donuts shop.
Behind them, not two feet is their mother, arms crossed, with a wicked glare that states: You heard them. The family of five look over the photo, shaking their heads before moving on. The Douglas family asked each patron exiting the shop, and none have seen the boy in the picture. Until…
"I've seen him," says a young girl who may be five or six herself.
"You have?!"
"Yeah, he's in my sister's class. Mrs. Duhmel's."
Sophia rolled her eyes. "We're asking if you've seen him today dumb dumb."
"Phia, be nice," postured her mother.
"But she is dumb; how can we trust her memory, when she paid no attention to what the flyer is about?"
Offended, the girl balked. "I am not! I was just stating a fact. I really have seen him."
Omi sighed out of frustration. "Can you remember seeing him today?"
"Not today, sorry." She shrugged her hand. "I'll ask my sister, she might have."
"Thank you," he flashed the young, though a year older than himself, girl with a winning smile of appreciation.
Uncomfortable because of aforementioned grin, she says quickly. "Uh, sssure," taking the flyer with her she hurried away.
Colt was so angry that he sat him his car for just two minutes and cried. Someone, some… bastard, kidnapped his son! Was it for ransom? For no reason at all? Spite? Who has it in for him that they'd do something so hideous as to steal his child? He couldn't wrap his head around it. Exiting the vehicle; sanity settled down, the distraught father searches in any building that wasn't locked up from the public. He doesn't care if he has to scour every nook and cranny of the place, he's going to find Elliot.
"Hey, here," he hands a missing person flyer to a couple teenagers. "Have you seen this kid? His name's Elliot. He went missing today, about an hour and a half since now," he checked his watch. Yup. Roughly two hours now since he's been missing.
The pair look the photo over.
"No. Sorry." Says the girl. "Jude?"
Jude, as she called him, looked hard at the photo. "I saw him, yeah, earlier."
"You did? How much earlier?"
"You brother was at the park around twoooo... forty six," he looked to his friend as if she would know the correct time.
"He's not my brother, he's my son." Colt, all 3 Douglas brothers- and their wives- get that 'Let me see your ID' treatment.
The standard for an adult appearance has changed a lot lately, but some younger people still look at the world from a "Them or us" point of view. So anyone not sporting a necktie and beard, or a string of pearls, and a motherly aura must be in the "us" category.
"Your son?" Although the female of the pair said it with shock, the guy held the shocked facial expression.
Here is the phase two of the modern adult treatment, the demeanor shift. You go from open and ready to help, to guarded but helpful lest they get in trouble for something when they haven't done anything. And a swarm of polite "Sir" or "Ma'am" comes along with that. Maybe he should keep his stubble so youth culture can stop having mild strokes when they find out he's not one off them.
"Yeah, now you said you saw him around two?" He's addressing the young man, Jude, who's got all the answers. "What was he doing? Was he with anyone?"
"Not at first; I was carving my initials into a tree, that's when I first saw him. He was with friends, a bunch of other little kids, then he left."
The girl suddenly nods, her memory jogged. "Right! Then he came back with this really hot guy following him," the hit guy she recalled for sure. If he was on the missing poster they'd of picked him up within six minutes of his missing time. Realization slowly spread over her daydreaming haze. "Oh my god,"
"What were they doing?" Because that might be a clue as to where Elliot has gone. "What did this guy look like?"
"Your son was doing some fighting moves, at first I thought he was dancing," Jude says. "But there are no round kicks in dance- not like the way he did it. The guy was watching, then when Elliot stopped, they walked away together for the exit."
Colt took that in, then pointed to the girl for the man's description, since she looked more at the 'attractive man', as she put it. He's never been so glad to know that shallow, superficial people still exist.
"He was for sure Asian, darker skin, so maybe… Vietnamese, Chinese, or um… shoot, what's the other one? Nikyu is? Oh! Thai." She clapped her hands together. "Short cut hair, not buzzed but in that sexy style the guys are wearing a lot, with the shaved fade around and the wave on top. Yeah, black hair." She blushed when saying the next part. "He had good muscles, like take-to-bed pecks," seeing Colt grimace at the needless embellishment, she apologized to the newly recognized "Sir" then went on. "He's not too tall either; Jude, what's your height?"
Brushing a hand through his dark, product shiny hair, as if to add it up from an assessing touch; he answered. "5'11", Fran."
Fran nods. "Roughly 5'8","
Colt took all of that to memory. He has to call the police. "Which direction did they go? Did you see?"
Fran, who didn't say she saw only because she was looking at the abductor's firm buttocks, points North East. "They could have gone to the toy store or dairy queen," she suggests based on the locations in that direction. "I hope you find your son, sir. Sorry we couldn't help more."
"Yeah, sorry."
"No, you've helped plenty," Colt replies. "Thanks."
Colt took off in the direction Fran had pointed, though they're likely gone by now, someone in that area most likely has seen something; removing his cell phone he calls Rocky to tell him what he found out. His brother will alert the police and get the job done faster than he could. It's a comradery thing. Kind of like how ninjas can stick together- good ones, anyway.
The missing child's mother saw it on television before the phone call came in from her husband. A description of the man was described, and that, later, there will be a sketch of the man. That's good! If someone saw something, then others will come forward with what they know! It only takes a small push to get a tiny ball rolling into a bolder in the snow.
"A couple kids saw him and this guy at the park," Colt was saying into the phone. "Don't leave the house, I'm coming home to check on you."
"No. Colt, I'm fine. You keep looking." Paula asks. "I was just a bit winded, I'm really fine. I'll be better once Elliot is found. We have to keep looking. In the meantime; I'll manned the telephone at home, incase someone calls here."
"Are you sure?"
"Positive. Please, stay where you're needed, doing what's needed."
"...Okay." He sounds uncertain. "And P'?"
"Hmm? Yes?"
"I don't blame you, for this…"
She closed her eyes, relieved to hear that- more than Colt could ever know.
"I could hear it in your voice; but, really, don't blame yourself." He says softly. "I don't blame you. And, even if this is scary and cause for emotions… think about the baby. You stay calm. Elliot will be found today."
"Okay. ...Thank you, Jeffery."
Colt sent her a kiss through the phone. "I love you."
"I love you."
"Later,"
"Yeah. Bye."
…
Jessica Douglas held her daughter-in-law's hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze. Colt had called her earlier asking that she sit with his wife, just incase Paula needs anything. His wife spent too many years of her life in a depression clinic; the last thing she needs is to be put under strain from this. A certain amount of stress is normal, but with Paula's history she could backslide. It's no different than a drug addiction or alcoholism. One always has to be aware.
Mrs. Douglas, Jessica, made a delicious warm sandwich complemented with a warm salad. She wasn't sure if soup was appropriate since it's summer and warm out. But, somehow warmth is what's needed. She knows how much she needed it when the boys went missing so many years ago, from Snyder and his men snatching them. If her father hadn't been there, who knows what would have happened to the kids. She never would wish such feelings on anyone in the world, and now it's happening to her family once again.
Elliot's sweet little face flashed through her mind. That summer when he was four and went in at the deep end of the pool, poor thing put on such a brave face while the twins teased him because he could swim at one end but not the other- nevermind that at the time the twins couldn't swim at all. Last Christmas when he arranged the gifts under the tree so that his were all in the front. How he counts his peas and corn niblets to seventeen on the spoon before eating them. She held her tears before they could fall. It wouldn't help to cry, when she's supposed to be a pilar.
"Thank you for being here, mother," Paula says. "I just don't understand how come no one has found him yet? They have the sketch; it's not as if he was taken by the invisible man,"
Jessica's heart ached hearing that. She and Sam knew who took their children, he left a note practically bragging about it- he didn't leave an address with turn-by-turn directions, but thanks to Mori and her husband's knowledge of the criminal bastard, they found the children on a ship in the yard at the docks. If Snyder had been smart he would have set sail, but the man was luckily in too much haste to get what he wanted. Thankfully, it never came to be. Rubbing Paula's back, she could only comfort her through touch… right now, words just don't make sense.
At the, Michael, Douglas home. He and his family are having dinner. They need a rest from searching as their energy is running on empty.
"I hope whoever took Elle gets a rotten stomach and throws up," Sophia mused as she swirled her pasta around the plate.
Omi grinned and agreed, adding onto the punishment the perpetrator deserves. "And then he'll slip in it, face first, and go blind when it gets in his eyes!"
Paige cast a wary looks at her husband, who just shrugged his shoulder, shook his head, and mouthed 'I don't know' about their children. It's amazing, it's his first night in awhile that he actually gets to eat a meal at home with his family, rather than coming home to eat alone while everyone else buzzes about, having finished their meal hours ago, but he can't enjoy it with his stomach in knots over his missing nephew. How do things like this happen?! One minute a person is there and then poof! You're pretty much a "who" like no one has ever heard of you.
"Dad?" Omi calls to Tum Tum.
"Hmm?"
"I said, why is Elliot missing? Shouldn't he have ninja kicked the guy who stole him or something?" Omi asks, his big eyes, a twin of his father's, looking at him with wonder. Despite the declaration of punishment to the jerk who took his cousin, Omi looks positively scared. "I would have. Did uncle Jeff tell him not to use it on non-ninjas?"
"It's not that simple, O', sometimes an opponent is just stronger than you are." Replied Tum Tum, sadly. "Elliot is a good ninja, but he's still learning. Whoever took him might have been stronger, or even tricked him somehow. Before he realized it was too late..."
"Michael," Paige's blue eyes flickered to their daughter, who listened and looked beyond ready to burst into tears.
"I'm sure Elle is fine. He's strong and resorceful," he tried to give them hope; however, it doesn't seem to be working.
Sophia caved right then, and gave in to her tears which started Omi in on it too.
Both parents took the nearest child into their arms, and held them safely. Hushing them, and telling them it's gonna be ok as they wiped their big tears.
"But daddy," Sophia cried in his arms as she swapped parents, Omi doing the same by switching to his mother's embrace. "Elliot isn't at home, and he's not eating dinner. That bad guy won't feed him and he'll starve!" She coughed on her emotions then continued crying once the fit was over.
"Make him give him back!" Omi wailed away.
After putting the kids to bed, Tum Tum and Paige called a neighbor to sit in with them as they went back out on the streets to search for the missing child.
Rocky and Arc are having a quick bite at the Apple Bee's. Rocky is eating, but Arc is picking at his burger and fries.
Rocky looked across the table, then said. "Not to give you indigestion but, eat fast, so we can go out looking some more."
"I'm not hungry,"
"Please, Arc, you've gotta eat. Keep your stamina up,"
Arc grabbed a fry and bit off a small piece, he barely chewed it before it was gone it was such a small sample that it practically disappeared in the teeth grinding.
"Elliot is going to be ok... Trust me. I face things like this all the time, and how many times have I come home unsuccessful?" He tried to give the boy hope, the words were completely true... The only lie that would have been told would be if he said that the lost children were always 100% ok. But he doesn't say that, so there was no false sense of hope in the statement. They will find Elliot and bring him home, hopefully without his having suffered any traumas.
"I can't stop thinking about what I read,"
Rocky really wished Arc wouldn't try to have this talk with him right now, in the crowded restaurant. They aren't speaking loudly enough to be heard, but with random emotions flying around shouting was always a high risk.
"Is someone doing stuff like that to Elle?" His eyes meet with his father's, pleading for a 'no' that Rocky just can't give. Looking away his gaze catches sight of the television in the corner. The sketch of the man is flashed up on the screen for the patrons to take notice of or ignore as they dined.
"Dad... is that the guy who took Elle?" Arc points.
Rocky looked over his shoulder at the TV, then nods.
"I know who that is," He stands up from the table. "The other day, he was at uncle Jeffrey's house talking to me and Elliot,"
"Did he tell you his name?" Rocky stands as well, headed for the exit, Arc in tow.
"Yeah. It was Izaya Kirifuda."
Somewhere in the city of Los Angeles, Elliot sits alone in the dark. The quiet... Quiet dark... No voice but his own, as he wonders if he'll be alright?
x x x
Commentary: It's been a rough while, sorry about that. But thank you for reading!
