OK, folks I've been building up to this for a while. Before you read, what do you think is one of the worst things Helen could do? Well you're about to find out just how deranged she is.

Thanks for reading.

Chapter 69.

When Steven arrived at the apartment after school, he was surprised to see his mother dressed and wearing her old blue coat. So why hadn't she met him at the school bus? Not only that, but her big gray suitcase stood near the front door and his smaller one was next to it. They hadn't used them since they'd visited his mom's sister in Pittsburgh two years before.

"Go check to see if I didn't forget anything from your room," his mother said.

"Where are we going?" he asked.

"Just do what I say!" Her shrill voice startled him.

"OK." He went meekly to his room and opened the drawers of his dresser one by one. Empty. Even the silvery tin that Nancy had given him to hold his money was gone. He'd been saving for Christmas gifts for everyone and had almost $17 already.

His closet was as empty as his drawers, except for a couple of things he'd outgrown. Of course, he didn't have all that much to begin with. He returned to his mother more anxious than before.

"I guess you got everything," he told her. "Where's the little can that was in my socks drawer?"

"We'll need that money," she said vaguely. "Let's go."

"Will we be back by Friday? 'Cause that's when Joey's birthday party is and I promised I'd be there," he said. "And I have Martial Arts on Saturday."

"You ask too many questions!" She didn't answer any of them, but wheeled her suitcase out the door and, after he followed with his, she locked it.

All the way down in the elevator, out to the street, and walking to the city bus stop at the corner, Steven's anxiety grew. Why wouldn't his mother say where they were going? Why were they leaving? And most important, would they ever come back?

They took the bus downtown and got off across from the Greyhound station. Helen deposited Steven on a bench with the two suitcases and went to a window to buy tickets. Steven watched, wondering if they were going to Pittsburgh again. He didn't think so. His aunt had seemed to be glad to see them go the last time. He didn't remember his mother talking to her since then.

Finally they boarded a bus. The driver had loaded their suitcases in the storage compartment, but Steven insisted on taking his school pouch with him. They seemed to ride for hours, stopping every once in a while to pick up passengers and let some get off. As they rode, Steven alternated between looking out the window and drawing on his pad.

When they pulled into a station a couple of hours after they'd started, Helen told Steven that they were getting off. He stowed his sketch pad back in his pouch and followed her off the bus. The sign said Harrisburg.

The next morning just before lunchtime, Marty Wilson's cellphone rang. The name on the caller ID was Debra Banks. Why would Steven's teacher be calling him?

"Hello?" he answered.

"Mr. Wilson? This is Mrs. Banks, Steven's teacher," she told him.

"Yes, I know who you are. Has something happened to him?" Curiosity was turning to fear.

"I was hoping you could tell me. He never showed up at school today. I understand he's been living with you."

"He moved back to his mother's place. Have you called her?" Marty asked hopefully.

"I tried," the teacher replied. "There was no answer. Oh, dear! I hope there's nothing wrong." She was beginning to sound distraught.

"I'll ride over to the apartment and check on them," Marty promised, catching sight of Nancy walking though the door to the main labs.

"Oh, would you? And please, let me know."

"Of course. I'm sure it's nothing," Marty said, although he didn't think so. He ended the call just as his wife approached.

She took one look at his face and asked, "What's happened? Is it one of the kids?"

Marty nodded once. "Steven never arrived at school today. That was his teacher. She tried to call Helen but there was no answer. I'm afraid I'll have to skip lunch and go check on them."

"Of course. Let's go," Nancy said, taking his arm, determined to go with him.

Marty was glad of her company on the drive to the apartment building. They parked half a block away and entered the dimly-lit lobby of the nondescript brick building. Marty hadn't really thought before about where Helen lived, even though he'd been there a few times to drop Steven off and pick him up. He'd had even smaller apartments himself years before, in even shabbier buildings, when he wasn't actually homeless. But at least this one was well-maintained.

They took the elevator up to Helen's floor and walked to her door. Marty rang the bell. There was no response and no sounds at all emanating from inside. No talking, no TV, nothing.

"Wait here," he told his wife. "I'll go get the super to let us in."

He found Mr. Ramos in his first floor apartment. Ed Ramos had been the superintendent of the building for many years. He'd kept everything working, from the elevator to the heating and plumbing. Marty had met him once when he came to get Steven and found Ramos clearing a clog in Helen's kitchen sink.

"Mr. Ramos, I don't know if you remember me, Marty Wilson," he said when the man came to the door.

"Yes, of course. You're the father of Helen Auerbach's son."

"That's right. I wonder, have you seen them today? Either of them?" He didn't want to alarm the man, especially if it turned out there was a simple explanation for where they were.

"No." Ramos thought a bit. "I did see Ms. Auerbach in the laundry room yesterday."

"There's no answer at her apartment and Steven never made it to school today."

Ramos thick eyebrows rose. "That's surprising."

"Could you open the apartment so I can make sure they're alright?" Marty requested.

"Sure." Ramos grabbed a large ring of keys from a hook near his door and they returned to the elevator. "She hasn't paid her rent for November yet," Ramos related. "But I told the management company that she's been sick and they should give her more time."

They arrived back at the door where a worried-looking Nancy was pacing. She'd had enough time to imagine the worst. Ramos used one of the keys on his ring to open the door.

The lights were off and it was very still. The living room looked as it always did, except there was no one there. And when Marty went into Steven's room, he found all of his clothes and other things were gone.

As they left the apartment and Ramos locked up again, an elderly black woman got off the elevator and pulled a shopping cart to the apartment across the hall.

"Hello, Ms. Franklin," Ramos greeted her.

"Mr. Ramos, how are you this fine day?" she asked, then turned to Marty and Nancy. "Were you looking for Helen?"

"Yes, we were," Marty replied.

Mrs. Franklin nodded. "I saw her and her boy leaving yesterday just before four o'clock. I always make sure to be home by four to watch my show."

"Did you talk to them?" Nancy asked.

"Only to say hello," the woman said. "They seemed to be going on a trip, had their suitcases and were in a bit of a hurry."

"Thank you Mrs. Franklin. If you see them come back, can you call me? I'm Steven's father." Marty handed her a card with his phone numbers on it.

"Yes, I've seen you with him a few times," she said. "I'll let you know if I see them, but I have to tell you, I'm wondering if they planned to come back." She opened her door and took her cart inside.

Marty handed Ramos a card, too. "If they show up, you'll call me, won't you?" he asked.

"Of course." Ramos told him.

Marty and Nancy rode down in the elevator with him, feeling more anxious than before. "I hope you find them," Ramos said before returning to his apartment.

"What do we do now?" Nancy asked.

"I don't know," Marty said. He'd been thinking about their options. He realized without legal rights to his son, there really was very little they could do.

Chapter 70.

Steven was alone in the apartment his mother had taken the night before. It was in the first building they'd come to with an 'apartment for rent' sign, not too far from the bus station. Smaller than their place in Princeton, it only had one bedroom, a work kitchen and the living room, but it came furnished.

He'd been so hungry when they'd taken their suitcases into the place. He was afraid to complain, but his stomach did it for him.

"What's wrong?" his mother had said, noticing the loud grumbles.

"I'm just hungry."

"Oh." She'd opened her suitcase and took out a plastic grocery bag containing the few food items she'd brought with her, a jar of peanut butter, a loaf of bread and two cans of soup. She'd handed the bag to Steven, then sat on the couch. She'd muttered something about needing to think some more.

Steven had decided to save the bread and peanut butter for breakfast. He'd looked through the three cupboards in the kitchen, finding a saucepan and some dishes. A drawer held some utensils, but no can opener. Luckily, the cans were the type with a pull opener.

He'd opened one can, putting the other away for another 'meal', then poured the soup into the saucepan. He'd figured out how to light the stove. Once the soup was hot, he'd filled two bowls, giving his mother the larger one with a soup spoon. She'd looked at it as if she didn't know where it came from, but ate it all, while he ate his.

After 'dinner', Helen had claimed that she was tired, pulled her suitcase into the bedroom and closed the door.

Steven realized that he'd have to sleep on the couch. He found sheets and a blanket in a closet near the tiny bathroom, but no pillow, so he used a throw pillow that was on the couch. He hadn't thought he'd be able to sleep, but he was so tired, that he fell asleep immediately.

In the morning, he'd gotten up at the usual time, showered and dressed, then he'd waited for his mother to get up. When she emerged from the bedroom at ten, she'd walked right past him without saying a word, and into the bathroom. She'd come out dressed in her nicest outfit.

"I'm going to get a job," she said. It was the first full sentence she'd said to him since they'd gotten off the bus.

"What about school?" he'd asked. "Am I going to go to school here?"

"We'll talk about it later," she'd said. "I'm going to earn so much money that we can get a house of our own and you can go to a wonderful school."

He'd prepared some peanut butter sandwiches for them both, and she'd eaten hers absentmindedly, then took her purse and left.

Now it was almost lunchtime. He didn't know what to do. He'd checked his jacket pockets and the pants he'd been wearing. Between them, he only had one dollar bill and two quarters, one dime, one nickel and two pennies. Not even enough to get something from the $2 Menu at the McDonalds they'd passed on the way from the bus station. He ate another piece of the bread. But now there wasn't much left. He didn't know whether the knot in his stomach was from hunger or fear.

Steven decided that he really needed to find a school to go to. He took his school pouch, put on his jacket, and left the apartment. Both of his parents, and Nancy, too, had told him not to talk to strangers, but his dad and his teacher also told him that a kid should find a policeman if they were lost. He decided that he was. Now he just had to find a policeman.

Once he was out on the street, he looked up and down, wondering which way to go. And there, less than a block away was a policeman! He walked up to the man. "Can you please tell me where the nearest school is?" he asked as politely as he could.

"Is this some kind of joke?" the policeman asked.

"No. I'm new here and I don't know the way to the school. My dad said that if I'm lost I should ask a policeman," he explained.

The uniformed man looked at the boy. Clean, wearing a new jacket and carrying one of those school bags all the kids liked. "If you go two streets up in that direction and then turn right for two more you'll come to an elementary school," he finally said.

"Thank you, very much," Steven said, smiling at him.

"Sure, kid."

Steven followed the directions to a big brick building. He walked up a flight of five wide stairs to a set of large doors, and through them. He thought he should find the office first, so he asked the first person he saw, a woman with frizzy hair and glasses, where it was.

"Right over there," she said, pointing down a hallway.

He walked until he saw a door that said 'School Office', turned the knob and walked in. An older woman with short gray hair sat at a desk just inside.

"Can I help you?" she asked.

"I want to go to this school." He thought about what he should say as he walked to the building. "We just moved to Harrisburg yesterday."

"Where are your parents?" she asked. "And what's your name?" She took out a form and began to fill it in.

"I'm Steven. Steven Auerbach. My mom's looking for a job, but my dad's back in Princeton."

"Is that where you're from?"

Boy she asked a lot of questions. "Yes."

"Where did you go to school before?"

He sighed. "Franklin Elementary. I was in Mrs. Banks' second grade class," he said.

"Well, we'll have to get your records from them. Why don't you come back tomorrow at 9 in the morning and we'll figure out where you belong."

That sounded fair. "OK." Steven breathed a sigh of relief.

"And Steven?"

"Yes?"

She suddenly smiled. "Welcome to Harrisburg."