Bosco sits alone in his hospital room, blanket to his chest, sweat covering his brow. He's muttering to himself about what a stupid mistake he's made. A child is missing, and it's his fault.
The police, they're looking for my son but in all the wrong places. They don't have any leads, they don't have a single soul that saw a young boy leave the hospital without a parent and be taken away. No one has seen a young boy wandering around New York, by himself. No one knows where Charlie is, expect me.
Bosco wipes the sweat off his brow and pushes the covers back. He swings one leg off the bed and touches the floor with his toe. Immediately he pulls it back, as though the floor is alarmed and an army of nurses is about to come rushing in.
One hand crosses over his chest, holding his battered ribs as though he's afraid they will come tumbling out of his body as he moves. He draws in a shallow breath and puts his foot back on the floor again.
Slowly he touches down with the other foot and hauls himself to his feet. Taking small, staggering steps, he makes it across the room and into the washroom where he shuts the door.
He's crying again, behind that closed door. His sobs are muffled and I picture him burying his head in the crook of his arm. Holding himself as the sobs rack through his bruised body. Building up pain and coursing it through him.
What happened to the man I once knew? Is this him? Crying in the washroom? I thought I had seen the worst when he came to me and talked about September Eleventh. That was nothing compared to this.
A nurse enters Bosco's room and looks around. Her eyes widen as she sees the empty bed. Don't worry honey, he hasn't escaped out the window. Check the washroom.
The nurse knocks on the washroom door. "Mr Boscorelli? You should have called me if you needed to go!"
"Go away." comes Bosco's muffled replied.
"Are you okay in there Mr Boscorelli? Do you need any assistance?"
"I can take a leak on my own!" Bosco roars and the nurse takes a step backward. Good idea hon, you don't want to get between Bosco and his temper.
The nurse leaves the room, muttering a promise to return in a few minutes and smack Bosco around a bit. "Damn police officers," she says, "Always think they rule the place."
________________
Charlie is curled up asleep with his arms around the big teddy bear. His small, pink lips are puckered slightly and he's making soft sucking noises. I touch him and he shudders under my hand. His dark hair, in need of a trim, falls over his eyes. Creating a fringe for him to hide under.
There's footsteps upstairs as my son's captor begins her daily routine. It doesn't seem right that she should act so normal. She brews the coffee. She pours the cereal and coats it with milk. Shouldn't she be pulling human hearts from her freezer and eating those instead?
The camera is still on, recording my son as he sleeps. I imagine that she's upstairs, sitting at the table with her bowl of corn flakes, watching my son as he sleeps. Her perverse pleasure in the act mounting until she can take it no longer. And hurts him.
Charlie begins to stir and opens an eye to gaze around at this cruel world. Realizing where he still is, his eyes glisten with tears. "Mommy!" he cries out, unable to control his gut reaction.
"Shhhh sweetie," says the disembodied voice. Her mouth is full of cereal, obscuring her words. "Don't cry."
Charlie pulls the bear up to cover his face. Is he ashamed to have her see him cry?
A chair scrapes across the floor and then the door at the top of the steps creaks open. She appears, carrying a small, plastic bowl and a glass of orange juice.
She settles herself down beside Charlie and offers him the cereal. Stubbornly, Charlie shakes his head. He's not hungry he tells her.
"Nonsense!" the woman exclaims. "All that playing and you're not hungry? Look at you, you're practically wasting away!"
Charlie looks tempted as he gazes down into the bowl filled to the brim with colourful shapes and marshmallows. The milk is turning purple and is probably sickly sweet. Just the way that Charlie likes it. "No thank you." Charlie says and pushes the bowl away from himself.
The milk and the cereal spills across the woman's breast. Staining her white shirt. "You little..." she hisses. "You're getting to be more trouble than you're worth."
Good. Let him go then.
Charlie looks proud of himself and throws the orange juice across her chest as well. The orange mixes with the purple.
The woman stands up and pushes her greasy locks out of her face. She shows her decayed teeth in a snarl and rushes upstairs. I hope she bought that ultra laundry detergent. She's going to need it.
________________
I had to leave Charlie again. The woman seems less interested him after the breakfast incident. She was pacing her kitchen, muttering to herself. Wondering how she could get herself a new little boy.
Bosco is staring blankly a television mounted on the wall. His hand limply holds the remote.
"I know you're here Faith." Bosco murmurs but doesn't take his eyes off the screen. "That cold draft, that's you."
You're learning Bosco. Good for you.
"Come to berate me for losing your son? For being such an irresponsible jerk? The detectives were here earlier - asked me a bunch of questions. I couldn't help them. I can't do a damn thing Faith. I can't even get out of this bed without falling over."
You can do something Bosco. You just have to listen to me. I touch his cheek and focus on him. Block out all else in the world. Focus on Bosco.
"Don't touch me Faith. I don't like it when you do that." he whispers. His eyes still focussed on the screen.
Focus on my touch Bosco. Don't pull away from me. I need you to listen.
Bosco is still. His breathing is shallow. He blinks once and then again. A flicker of fear crosses his eyes and he swallows. "Why are you doing this to me?" he asks. "I can't help you."
A woman took Charlie, Bosco. Listen to me, I know where he is.
"Stop it please Faith." Bosco tries to pull away from me.
Damn you Bosco! She's going to kill him! Please just stop being afraid. Just for a moment Bosco, can you be the man I once knew? The man I lost that day on the sidewalk?
Bosco draws in a shuddering breath and winces as the pain hits him. "That man died with you Faith." he murmurs.
He heard me. Finally, he heard me. Listen to me now Bosco. She took Charlie. Grabbed him outside of the hospital.
"Who took him?" Confusion crosses over his face. "I don't get it Faith."
A woman, with bad teeth and greasy hair. She took Charlie, she has him in her basement. And she's going to kill him.
Bosco nods. Confidence returns to his features. Brightening his eyes. Returning his spirit. He realizes now that he can help. And I tell him where Charlie is being kept and he reaches for the phone.
Thank you for listening to me Bosco.
"Could I ever ignore you?"
He dials a number and then, we wait.
The police, they're looking for my son but in all the wrong places. They don't have any leads, they don't have a single soul that saw a young boy leave the hospital without a parent and be taken away. No one has seen a young boy wandering around New York, by himself. No one knows where Charlie is, expect me.
Bosco wipes the sweat off his brow and pushes the covers back. He swings one leg off the bed and touches the floor with his toe. Immediately he pulls it back, as though the floor is alarmed and an army of nurses is about to come rushing in.
One hand crosses over his chest, holding his battered ribs as though he's afraid they will come tumbling out of his body as he moves. He draws in a shallow breath and puts his foot back on the floor again.
Slowly he touches down with the other foot and hauls himself to his feet. Taking small, staggering steps, he makes it across the room and into the washroom where he shuts the door.
He's crying again, behind that closed door. His sobs are muffled and I picture him burying his head in the crook of his arm. Holding himself as the sobs rack through his bruised body. Building up pain and coursing it through him.
What happened to the man I once knew? Is this him? Crying in the washroom? I thought I had seen the worst when he came to me and talked about September Eleventh. That was nothing compared to this.
A nurse enters Bosco's room and looks around. Her eyes widen as she sees the empty bed. Don't worry honey, he hasn't escaped out the window. Check the washroom.
The nurse knocks on the washroom door. "Mr Boscorelli? You should have called me if you needed to go!"
"Go away." comes Bosco's muffled replied.
"Are you okay in there Mr Boscorelli? Do you need any assistance?"
"I can take a leak on my own!" Bosco roars and the nurse takes a step backward. Good idea hon, you don't want to get between Bosco and his temper.
The nurse leaves the room, muttering a promise to return in a few minutes and smack Bosco around a bit. "Damn police officers," she says, "Always think they rule the place."
________________
Charlie is curled up asleep with his arms around the big teddy bear. His small, pink lips are puckered slightly and he's making soft sucking noises. I touch him and he shudders under my hand. His dark hair, in need of a trim, falls over his eyes. Creating a fringe for him to hide under.
There's footsteps upstairs as my son's captor begins her daily routine. It doesn't seem right that she should act so normal. She brews the coffee. She pours the cereal and coats it with milk. Shouldn't she be pulling human hearts from her freezer and eating those instead?
The camera is still on, recording my son as he sleeps. I imagine that she's upstairs, sitting at the table with her bowl of corn flakes, watching my son as he sleeps. Her perverse pleasure in the act mounting until she can take it no longer. And hurts him.
Charlie begins to stir and opens an eye to gaze around at this cruel world. Realizing where he still is, his eyes glisten with tears. "Mommy!" he cries out, unable to control his gut reaction.
"Shhhh sweetie," says the disembodied voice. Her mouth is full of cereal, obscuring her words. "Don't cry."
Charlie pulls the bear up to cover his face. Is he ashamed to have her see him cry?
A chair scrapes across the floor and then the door at the top of the steps creaks open. She appears, carrying a small, plastic bowl and a glass of orange juice.
She settles herself down beside Charlie and offers him the cereal. Stubbornly, Charlie shakes his head. He's not hungry he tells her.
"Nonsense!" the woman exclaims. "All that playing and you're not hungry? Look at you, you're practically wasting away!"
Charlie looks tempted as he gazes down into the bowl filled to the brim with colourful shapes and marshmallows. The milk is turning purple and is probably sickly sweet. Just the way that Charlie likes it. "No thank you." Charlie says and pushes the bowl away from himself.
The milk and the cereal spills across the woman's breast. Staining her white shirt. "You little..." she hisses. "You're getting to be more trouble than you're worth."
Good. Let him go then.
Charlie looks proud of himself and throws the orange juice across her chest as well. The orange mixes with the purple.
The woman stands up and pushes her greasy locks out of her face. She shows her decayed teeth in a snarl and rushes upstairs. I hope she bought that ultra laundry detergent. She's going to need it.
________________
I had to leave Charlie again. The woman seems less interested him after the breakfast incident. She was pacing her kitchen, muttering to herself. Wondering how she could get herself a new little boy.
Bosco is staring blankly a television mounted on the wall. His hand limply holds the remote.
"I know you're here Faith." Bosco murmurs but doesn't take his eyes off the screen. "That cold draft, that's you."
You're learning Bosco. Good for you.
"Come to berate me for losing your son? For being such an irresponsible jerk? The detectives were here earlier - asked me a bunch of questions. I couldn't help them. I can't do a damn thing Faith. I can't even get out of this bed without falling over."
You can do something Bosco. You just have to listen to me. I touch his cheek and focus on him. Block out all else in the world. Focus on Bosco.
"Don't touch me Faith. I don't like it when you do that." he whispers. His eyes still focussed on the screen.
Focus on my touch Bosco. Don't pull away from me. I need you to listen.
Bosco is still. His breathing is shallow. He blinks once and then again. A flicker of fear crosses his eyes and he swallows. "Why are you doing this to me?" he asks. "I can't help you."
A woman took Charlie, Bosco. Listen to me, I know where he is.
"Stop it please Faith." Bosco tries to pull away from me.
Damn you Bosco! She's going to kill him! Please just stop being afraid. Just for a moment Bosco, can you be the man I once knew? The man I lost that day on the sidewalk?
Bosco draws in a shuddering breath and winces as the pain hits him. "That man died with you Faith." he murmurs.
He heard me. Finally, he heard me. Listen to me now Bosco. She took Charlie. Grabbed him outside of the hospital.
"Who took him?" Confusion crosses over his face. "I don't get it Faith."
A woman, with bad teeth and greasy hair. She took Charlie, she has him in her basement. And she's going to kill him.
Bosco nods. Confidence returns to his features. Brightening his eyes. Returning his spirit. He realizes now that he can help. And I tell him where Charlie is being kept and he reaches for the phone.
Thank you for listening to me Bosco.
"Could I ever ignore you?"
He dials a number and then, we wait.
