Extreme Ghostbusters: A Little Boy Lost
Part 2
11:00 am:
"Oh my God, it's her!"
"Kylie," Roland said patiently, turning round to face her as she ducked furtively behind his back. "Of course it's her. She's the person you're here to see."
"No she isn't," hissed Kylie, keeping her voice low. "I'm here for Jack."
They were at JFK Airport, which was typically buzzing with activity. Roland, Kylie and Jack had arrived together. Kylie had insisted that Roland go with them, adamant that she would need at least as much moral support as Jack did, and he hadn't the heart to refuse. Jack had looked surprised to see him, but he didn't say anything.
Sandra Beaumont-nee-Ryan had just torn into the lobby, wide-eyed and breathless. She had changed over the years – her hair was shorter, she wore more makeup and had for some reason taken to dressing in a tailored jacket and pencil skirt – but Jack recognised her straightaway. She recognised him too, of course, and by the time Kylie squeaked out her alarm they were running into each other's arms.
"Come on." Kylie signalled to Jack when he spared her a glance, and then beckoned Roland to follow her to the nearest cup of coffee. Though she was not particularly fond of the beverage, she had often observed that her father always seemed to consume vast quantities of caffeine at times of stress, and right now she was prepared to try anything. "We should leave them alone for a while."
Minutes later they were sitting at a small table, surrounded by movement and loud, indiscernible chatter. They each clutched a steaming Styrofoam cup, the familiar smell of coffee snaking through the air, the heat seeping through the flimsy material and loosening their fingers, though the warmth failed to comfort Kylie. She just stared down at the muddy beverage for a long time, chewing her bottom lip, her breath becoming increasingly heavier and more audible. Roland looked at her hands, which were clutching desperately at the cup, and noticed that they were shaking.
"Kylie." He reached across the table and put a comforting hand on her wrist. "Calm down – you're shaking."
Kylie opened her mouth, but found that she was unable to speak. Instead she just shook her head, not meeting Roland's gaze.
"Take some deep breaths," he said soothingly, quietly rather alarmed by Kylie's reaction to the situation, but he didn't let it show. She would never calm down if he did. "Come on, Ky – breathe. What's this all about?"
She took his advice and breathed deeply a few times, until finally she was able to speak. However her voice was cracked and unsteady as she said, in whimpering tones, "Why the hell did I agree to this, Roland? I can't see her again – I just can't!"
"Why not?" Roland asked calmly.
"Because she hates me. She's probably hated me for the past ten years. I just can't face her."
"You said you'd do it for Jack."
"I know." Kylie sighed deeply. "It's going to be awful. That woman hates me, Roland. She really hates me. After Jack disappeared… Oh, God – what am I going to say to her?"
"Maybe," Roland said slowly, "she's just grateful that you found her son."
"It's my fault it happened."
"What? No it isn't!"
"Sure it is," Kylie insisted. "The Grundle wanted me, remember."
"Well, ok, but Jack's mother doesn't know that," Roland pointed out.
"I'm sure she doesn't know about the Grundle," Kylie said quietly, "but she knows it was my fault. Nobody told her that – nobody knew – but somehow she just knows."
x x x
"All right, Kylie." This policeman was a lady. Kylie liked her better than the policeman who was a man, and who was sitting next to the lady, opposite her and Daddy. "Please tell us what happened this evening, after Jack came to play."
"We were playing ball," Kylie began slowly. "In the living room." She looked sideways at Daddy. She knew that Daddy didn't like her playing with balls in the house. But he didn't say anything, and he didn't look angry. So Kylie went on: "I turned round to get the ball, because Jack threw it over my head, and then he ran off. I followed him, and he went into my room. He was by the window. I told him not to open it. I told him!"
She was starting to shout, and Daddy put his hand on her shoulder again. The lady policeman smiled at her. She said, "Just take your time, honey."
"Your great-grandmother told us that she thought she heard you shouting, 'Don't open the window'," said the man policeman. "Did you say that to Jack, Kylie?"
Kylie nodded.
"Why?" asked the man policeman.
Kylie said nothing. She could feel Daddy looking at her, but she didn't look back at him.
"Was there something out there?" the lady policeman asked.
Kylie nodded again.
"What was it, honey?"
"A… a monster."
The man policeman looked very surprised, and so did the lady policeman a little bit. They looked at each other. Then the lady policeman asked, "Are you sure?"
Kylie nodded again.
"What did it look like?" asked the lady policeman. Kylie could tell that she didn't believe her about the monster.
"Tall, like him." She pointed at the man policeman. "It had long arms, and a big mouth. And it had a coat and a hat on."
"WHAT?" Daddy suddenly shouted, and Kylie looked at him in surprise.
"So you saw him through the window?" the lady policeman asked.
Kylie nodded.
"Did you… did you know he would be there?"
"He's always there," Kylie said quietly.
"Always?" the man policeman asked sharply.
"At night," Kylie went on. She wanted to stop, but the policemen were looking at her so hard, she just couldn't. "He stands outside my window, and he says…"
The lady policeman looked very white, like Daddy. Daddy looked even whiter than he had looked when he arrived. The lady policeman asked, "What does he say?"
"He says, 'Come out and play.'"
"Oh my God!" cried Daddy. "Every night? Kylie, why didn't you tell me? Did you tell Grandma Rose?"
Kylie shook her head.
"Why not?" asked the lady policeman.
"I don't know."
"Oh my God…" whispered Daddy.
The man policeman was frowning at Daddy. The lady policeman was still staring at Kylie. She asked, "Did he take Jack?"
Kylie didn't know what to say. The monster didn't take Jack. Jack had turned into a monster himself. He had turned round and hissed at her… or growled… or something. She couldn't remember. But the policemen would never believe that, any of it, so Kylie said quietly, "I don't know. I didn't see."
"What did Jack do? Did he climb out the window?" asked the man policeman.
Kylie nodded. She remembered Jack climbing out of the window, and… "He ran away," she added. She remembered him running away.
"Did this man chase him?" asked the man policeman.
"I don't know," said Kylie. "It was dark out. And it wasn't a man – I told you."
"Kylie," said Daddy. "How long has there been someone outside your window at night?"
"I don't know," Kylie said again. "Days."
Soon after that, she and Daddy were allowed to go. Kylie went to Grandma Rose, who was waiting for her. The man policeman asked Daddy to stay behind, and he said some things that Kylie couldn't hear.
Jack's mommy and daddy were still there. Jack's daddy walked over to Kylie and asked, "Did you tell them everything you saw?"
Kylie didn't answer.
"What did you tell them?"
"I just told them what I saw."
"What was that?"
"Daniel…" said Grandma Rose. "Just let the police do their job."
Jack's daddy ignored her. "Did you tell them absolutely everything?" he asked.
For a few seconds, Kylie couldn't move. Then, finally, she nodded. But Jack's daddy looked like he didn't believe she was telling him the truth. He was right. She had not told them that Jack was a monster now.
Jack's mommy came over to her. She hadn't said anything, only cried, since she came to the police station. But now she suddenly started screaming: "You know something, don't you! You know something that you haven't told them!"
"Sandra!" exclaimed Grandma Rose.
"You're a wicked child!" shouted Jack's mommy. "You're an evil, wicked little girl! You have to tell us what happened!"
She was crying so much that she probably couldn't see. She reached out and Kylie stepped back in alarm, but Jack's mommy grabbed her shoulders and shook her hard.
"TELL US!" she screamed.
Some policemen started coming towards them, but they stopped when Daddy arrived, just as Jack's daddy pulled Jack's mommy away from Kylie.
"She told the police everything, Sandra," said Daddy. "I think you need to go home now."
"What did she say?" asked Jack's daddy.
Daddy opened his mouth, but he didn't answer Jack's daddy's question. Kylie knew he thought that it was a man who came to her window every night, not a monster. He didn't tell Jack's daddy. He probably thought Jack's daddy would shout at him again.
"She hardly saw anything," Daddy finally told Jack's daddy. "It's late, Dan. I have to take her home."
x x x
The relief that Jack had felt upon seeing his mother was overwhelming. He just wanted her to hold him and never let go, but he had to be careful in the middle of the airport. He remembered what Kylie had said to him that morning: he had to try and behave like an adult. His mother didn't know that he hadn't really grown up.
When she hugged him, it felt so familiar, just as it had all those years ago, though to Jack those years seemed like only days. She didn't let go of him for a long time. She just held him close to her and sobbed, murmuring quietly, "Oh my God, Jack – it's really you."
"Of course it's me," he said quietly.
"Jack… oh, Jack…" Finally she pushed him gently away, and gazed up into his face. She gave a dry little laugh as she said, "You're taller than me."
"Yeah."
"Jack… where have you been?"
"I can't remember," Jack replied truthfully. That was another thing Kylie had said to him: do not mention monsters on any account. "I'm sorry, Mom. I can't remember."
"It's ok." She pulled him close to her again. "It's ok, baby."
Roland and Kylie watched them from a distance, Roland smiling slightly at the touching scene. They were silent for some moments, until Kylie said quietly, her voice choked with emotion, "I'm so glad he found her."
"Yeah."
"I do wonder about…"
"About what?" asked Roland, swivelling in his chair to face her. "His dad?"
Kylie simply nodded.
"I don't know what to say," said Roland.
"There's nothing to say."
She glanced down at her coffee, none of which she had yet drunk, and when she looked up again her heart froze. Jack and Sandra were no longer face-to-face, but were looking directly at her.
"What's wrong?" asked Roland, alarmed when he caught sight of her expression.
"They're coming this way!" Kylie croaked. She sounded terrified.
Sure enough Jack was leading his mother towards them, beaming happily. Sandra, on the other hand, did not look pleased. At her approach Kylie stood up suddenly, her chair toppling over backwards at the force of her movement and hitting the ground with a loud clatter. A small wave of coffee slopped over the side of the Styrofoam cup as the table jerked, but Kylie either didn't notice this or she didn't care. She just stared at Jack's mother, her eyes wide, her whole body trembling.
"Kylie," Sandra said simply.
Kylie took a few short, sharp breaths and then managed to stammer out, "M-M-Mrs. Ryan… h-h-hi."
"Hi," Sandra returned coldly. "Jack tells me you found him."
"I… I…"
"That's correct," Roland intervened, rising to his feet.
"Who are you?" demanded Sandra.
"Roland Jackson. I'm a friend of Kylie's. I was there when Jack was found."
"Where was this?" Sandra asked him sharply. "Where did you find him?"
"Um… in my backyard," Roland confessed, perhaps a little sheepishly.
Suddenly Kylie's knees gave way. She wanted to sink back into the chair, which was now horizontal on the ground, so she simply clutched at the table for support. She had no control over her own body and her throat was as dry as a desert. She'd had no idea that seeing Jack's mother again would affect her so strongly.
"In your back…?"
"Mom," Jack interrupted sharply. "It doesn't matter now. I'm back."
"Yes." Sandra was looking at Kylie through narrowed eyes with deep suspicion. "I know, honey. We should talk. There are things I need to tell you."
"I know you had more kids."
"How do you know that?" asked Sandra, surprised, suddenly jerking her eyes away from Kylie.
"The police told me."
"Right, well…"
"And I know you aren't with Dad anymore. Where is he, Mom? What happened to him? The police can't find him."
"They can't?" Sandra asked sharply, her neatly plucked eyebrows shooting skyward. "Ah, honey… a lot happened while you were gone. I don't know where your father is. I'm sorry." She cut another hateful glance at Kylie and added, "Let's get out of here, shall we?"
Jack allowed his mother to drag him away, leaving Roland to deal with Kylie in her state of shock. He picked up the chair and urged Kylie to sit down on it, which she readily did.
"She wants to kill me," Kylie murmured quietly.
"Of course she doesn't," Roland said dismissively. "She didn't look happy to see you, though. I don't understand what her problem with you is."
"She knows. She knows I know what happened, and that it was my fault."
"Well… I'm sure she'll come round. Do you wanna get out of here?"
"Ha," Kylie laughed, dryly and humourlessly. "I didn't even drink the damn coffee after all that."
"You want it?" asked Roland.
"No." She shook her head. "I would like you to take me home now, please."
x x x
"It feels strange," said Sandra, "being back in New York after all this time."
They had gone to Central Park. It was relatively quiet there. The sound of traffic, people, dogs… all of that was little more than a distant hum. Jack, who had grown up (or at least begun to) with the noises of the city, found it strangely comforting. His mother, on the other hand, seemed to have forgotten it. The thick, unclean air stuck in her throat like an unpleasant taste, and Jack noticed the way she pulled her jacket around herself. Why had she come without a coat? He knew California was supposed to be hot for almost the entire year, but surely his mother hadn't forgotten that New York wasn't like that. She seemed like a complete stranger here. She must have settled completely and easily into her new life in Sacramento.
"Why don't you have a coat?" asked Jack, as they strolled through the park.
Sandra looked at him. She seemed to think it a strange question. Finally she said, "I didn't bring anything. I didn't have time. As soon as I got the call I drove straight to the airport and wouldn't leave the staff alone until I could get a flight over here. I didn't even stop to find a parking spot – when I get home I'm probably going to find that my car has been crushed to a cube."
"Oh no," remarked Jack. He knew, like every kid of his western urban culture, that people aged upwards of sixteen valued cars extremely highly.
"Honey." She grabbed his arm and squeezed it. "It's just a car. It isn't important. Nothing is important now that I've got you back."
"Not even your new family?"
"Ah."
Sandra veered off to the left, pulling Jack gently towards an empty park bench. They sat down, and she pulled a wallet out of her jacket pocket. She didn't open it, though – just held it for a few seconds. Finally she asked, "Would you like to see some pictures?"
"Sure."
"This is Ted, my husband." She rifled through the wallet, and then handed her son a small photograph of a sandy-haired man who looked to be in his mid-thirties. "He's a little younger than me – you can probably tell."
"Do you love him?" asked Jack.
Again, Sandra looked surprised. But she didn't hesitate with her answer: "Of course."
"But what about Dad?" Jack wanted to know.
"Ah, Jack," his mother sighed. "We fell apart after you disappeared. We both had counselling – we went together – but we just couldn't be around each other anymore."
"Why?"
"I don't know. It just all went sour. We coped with what happened to you… well… differently. Your father was so angry. When the police didn't find anything, he said we should look for you ourselves. And that's what he did. One day he announced that he was going to find you. He said I could go with him if I wanted to."
"Didn't you go?"
"No. Jack, you know I wanted to find you – I would have given anything to have you back – but how could he and I find you by ourselves? Our marriage was already beyond repair, so I let him go. That… was the last I saw of him," she finished quietly.
"So where is he now?" demanded Jack. "Why can't the cops find him?"
"I don't know," Sandra replied evenly. "I'm sorry, Jack, I just… I don't know."
Jack pursed his lips and sucked in his breath through his nose. His father was missing. He could be anywhere – he could be dead! It was a horrible thought, and with everything that had happened Jack didn't feel up to pursuing it, at least not yet. He changed the subject: "What about you? Why did you move away?"
"I couldn't stand being here," his mother replied. "Everything I saw reminded me of you."
"You wanted to forget me?"
"No! I missed you every single day. Moving away didn't make me miss you any less, but I had to move on eventually. Can you understand that?"
Jack was silent for a few moments. He couldn't understand what his disappearance had been like for anybody. His young mind could only imagine that his mother had started a new life in order to try and erase the old one. But of course, the old one had been taken away from her. Of course she had to start again. Maybe he did understand, to some extent. He nodded.
"Well," Sandra went on, her voice beginning to waver slightly, "I moved to the opposite side of the country and spent a couple of years at college. That's where I met Ted. He was widowed – he was trying to get his life back on track too."
"And," Jack put in, "you cut your hair and changed all of your clothes."
"Oh, well." She looked down at her neatly ironed executive suit. "I might have had my hair cut anyway if you hadn't disappeared, and I was still here with you and your father. And I don't normally dress like this. This is for work. I've got one of those office jobs with a lot of random typing. It pays well and keeps me busy."
"Do you like it?"
"It's all right. I have some good friends there."
"Oh. Good."
"I'm still the same person," Sandra continued gently. "I'm still your mom. Through all of it I never, even for a second, stopped being utterly devastated about what happened to you. You have to believe that. Even falling in love with Ted didn't stop the pain, and neither did having Toby."
"Your kid? How old is he?" asked Jack.
"Two-and-a-half," replied Sandra, the ghost of a smile haunting the corners of her mouth at last. "He's a beautiful baby, your little brother. Now before you think it, Jack, I didn't have him to replace you. I always loved you and missed you. Toby didn't fill the void you left – I never hoped that he would – he's something completely separate from you."
"Ok."
"Would you like to see a picture?"
"Sure."
Really smiling now, Sandra handed Jack another picture. Toby Beaumont looked, Jack thought, much like any other two year old. He was a chubby little boy with chestnut hair, long-lashed hazel eyes and a disarming smile. He was cute, and Jack couldn't help smiling. He resembled his mother more than his father, Jack thought.
He handed back the photograph and said bluntly, "The cops said kids, as in more than one."
"Ah," Sandra nodded slowly. "They must have come across Deborah's name. She isn't mine. Her mother died when she was little. She was five when I married Ted. I don't think she was sure about me at first, but we get along very well now."
"Does she call you Mom?"
"No."
"You got a picture?"
"I do, actually."
As Toby was in Deborah's photograph, attempting to poke the raven-haired girl in the eye, Jack assumed that this was the only picture of her in his mother's wallet. Perhaps that meant she didn't feel as close to her as she did to Toby or Ted. Deborah was smiling down at Toby, who sat cross-legged on her lap; she was holding her little brother's wrist – well, half-brother really, Jack corrected himself – to keep his fat little forefinger at bay. She was an absolutely beautiful little girl. Her hair was long and sleek, her dark eyes full of life and her face wreathed in smiles.
"How old is she?" asked Jack.
"Nine. Isn't she beautiful?"
"I guess."
"She looks so like her mother's photographs it's scary. Ted's always talking about it: 'Sometimes I could swear I'm looking at Susie.'"
Jack looked up sharply. "You don't have a picture of her in there, do you?"
"Of course not. How morbid do you think I am?"
"Your new family is… perfect."
"We're far from perfect," Sandra smiled slightly. "I love them, though. And there's a place in it for you. There always has been, just in case you ever came back."
"Didn't you think I would?"
"I hoped you would. I never gave up hope. I still carry pictures of you in this thing, you know, if that's what you're looking so upset about."
"I'm not upset," said Jack. It was making him feel uneasy for some reason, which he couldn't understand, but of course it didn't upset him to know that his mother had people who loved her. "I'm glad you're happy."
"I'm twice as happy now. No, more than that… I'm whole again."
They were silent for a few moments. Jack looked again at the picture of the two children. He suddenly had a half-brother and a stepsister, both technically younger than he was, but he almost certainly lacked Deborah's maturity. He wondered how hard it would be, trying to fit into a new family and be an older brother.
"Jack," ventured Sandra. "Do you really not remember anything that happened?"
"I really don't," Jack replied quietly, not feeling comfortable with the lie. Well, technically it wasn't a lie – he didn't remember – but he knew what had happened to him. He wanted to tell his mother, but he was sensible enough at least to realise that he had to keep the true story of what happened to him a secret from everyone.
"It's ok," said Sandra, grabbing his hand. "We'll figure it out."
"What?"
"There are people who can help you remember. We'll find out what really happened to you."
Jack's eyes widened. People who could help him? What did she mean by that? She was obviously determined to find out the truth, which was an alarming prospect, because he couldn't let her. Finally he asked, his voice barely audible, "Why?"
"Because it's important for us to know."
"Why?"
"It matters."
"Why? I'm back. It doesn't matter where I've been."
"Jack! Yes it does! Come on." She stood up suddenly and grabbed Jack's hand, pulling him to his feet. "Are you ready to go home?"
"Home?" echoed Jack. "To California?"
"Of course."
"I… I have to say goodbye to Kylie."
"Oh." Sandra's eyes narrowed. "Kylie. Right."
"And… and her friends."
"All right," Sandra said irritably, her face falling into a scowl. "All right."
x x x
"Jack, hi!" Janine Melnitz greeted the visitor enthusiastically, standing up and walking round her desk. "And this must be your mom. Hi, I'm Janine."
"Hello," Sandra smiled politely. "Yes, I'm Jack's mom – Sandra. We've come to say goodbye."
"Goodbye?"
"He's coming to Sacramento with me."
"Oh, well, it'll be nice to see your family again," Janine said to Jack.
"I haven't met them yet," he replied.
"Oh, well…" Janine said again, her smile faltering. Kylie, quite rightly, hadn't divulged too much of Jack's personal information to her colleagues. "It'll be nice to meet them, then. Um, Jack, I'm afraid Kylie isn't here."
"What?" exclaimed Sandra. "We don't have time to run all over New York looking for her! I have to get home!"
"It's all right – she's at her apartment," Janine said soothingly. "I'll call her if you like. I'm sure she'd come here to say goodbye to you, Jack."
"Will you?" asked Jack. "Please. Thanks, Janine. Are the others upstairs?"
"Yes."
"Come on, Mom – I want you to meet the people who found me."
Upstairs, Sandra found herself looking at three young men and one older one. Jack reeled off their names as he gestured towards each of them in turn: "Mom, this is Egon Spengler, Eduardo Rivera and Garrett Miller. You met Roland."
"Roland, yes, hi," Sandra smiled politely at Roland, pleasantly surprised that he had stood up upon her arrival. The older man had already been standing – he did straighten, though – and the poor lad in the wheelchair obviously couldn't, but the other one just didn't bother. He barely even looked at her. "I'm sorry about how I came across earlier. I'm not usually like that – you caught me at a strange time."
"Of course," said Roland. "I quite understand."
"I really am grateful to you for finding Jack," added Sandra. "All of you. I don't know how to thank you enough."
"We need no more thanks than that," Egon cut in. He wanted to say more – to try and explain what had happened to Jack to his poor mother, who must be desperate to know – but Kylie had warned him not to. On no account, he had been told, would this woman accept any explanation that involved monsters. Slimer, Egon suddenly realised, was strangely absent. That was a shame: if only Mrs. Ryan, or whatever her name was, could have seen him – perhaps she might have been persuaded.
"I came to say goodbye," announced Jack. "I'm going with Mom to Sacramento."
"You are?" asked Garrett, his eyebrows shooting skyward. "Well, it was fun while it lasted. We didn't have much of a chance to get to know you."
"Kylie's gonna be bummed," added Eduardo.
"I'll stay in touch," Jack assured them. "And I expect we'll visit some- "
"Where is Kylie, anyway?" Sandra interrupted. "We have to get out of here. I left without even saying goodbye, and my son is two! I had to call and make childcare arrangements from the plane – he must want me home."
"Kylie's at home," offered Roland. "Do you want us to -?"
"The secretary has already called her," said Sandra. "Thank you. I assume she's on her way."
Now, apparently, there was nothing for them to do but wait. Egon, thinking that he ought to do something with his guests, invited Sandra and Jack to sit down and enquired as to whether there was anything they would like. Sandra, who incidentally chose to stay standing, gave an unexpected and somewhat stumping reply: "I would like to know where my son has been for the past ten years."
"Ah, well…" Egon mumbled awkwardly.
"Where do you live, anyway?" demanded Sandra, looking suddenly at Roland.
"Does it matter?" Roland asked nervously.
"Certainly it does," replied Sandra, keeping her tone neutral. "It was where my son was found. Were you all there?"
No one spoke. Finally, when the gaping silence threatened to swallow them all up, Garrett spoke: "Egon wasn't. The rest of us were."
"So what happened?" Sandra asked impatiently.
At this point Eduardo decided to intervene. He looked up sharply and asked, "Haven't you talked to the police?"
Sandra frowned. "It was the police that called me," she said curtly.
"Well," Eduardo went on, in tones of exaggerated patience, "Kylie and Roland told the police everything that happened. If you talk to them again, they will tell you everything you need to know… if they haven't already. All right?"
"No," snapped Sandra. "I've heard that before."
Eduardo raised his eyebrows. "What do you mean?"
"I'm sure they didn't tell us everything there was to know when Jack disappeared," replied Sandra, forcing the etiquette back into her tone.
"Probably not," muttered Garrett, quietly wondering whether he should have told this woman that he and Eduardo had been present when Jack was found. They had not spoken to the police, which they probably should have done – and would have, had this been an ordinary missing person case. However, given the nature of Jack's disappearance, they had agreed to play the whole story down considerably. It was likely that Kylie hadn't told the police who was present at the discovery, as that was likely to lead to questions to which the only answers involved monsters. Oops…
"Maybe you should go talk to the cops now, before you leave," Eduardo suggested. "It's gonna be a few minutes before Kylie even gets here. They didn't tell you everything over the phone, did they?"
"No, they certainly did not."
"Just an idea."
"It's a good idea, actually," mused Sandra, her brow furrowing in thought – considerably more thought, perhaps, than the situation warranted. "Jack, honey, will you be ok here if I nip to the police station?"
"Sure," said Jack. Truthfully he never wanted his mother to leave his side again, but he knew that she would have to eventually, besides which he got the feeling that it might be best if she managed to avoid Kylie. Anyway, she'd come back again. Of course she would come back again. "I'll be fine."
"Would you like a lift?" offered Roland.
Sandra had warmed to Roland since their first meeting, and she was touched. "I would, actually," she said, "if you're sure you don't mind."
Roland, quite characteristically, assured her that he didn't mind, and they left immediately.
"Jack," ventured Egon, some minutes later, when the distant roar of Roland's Mustang from the street below had subsided. "How do you think your mother would react if you told her the truth?"
"She'd never believe it," Jack replied at once. "She really, really wants to know what happened to me, though."
"Of course she does," said Garrett.
"I don't know what to do," sighed Jack. He was finding it confusing, terrifying even, suddenly having to bear the weight of so much responsibility.
"Don't worry about it," Eduardo advised breezily. "She'll drop it eventually."
The conversation pretty much died after that, and they sat in uncomfortable silence until Kylie turned up. She dashed into the room, wide-eyed and out of breath. Jack was sitting with his back to the door, so he didn't see her arrival. He heard it, though, and rose to his feet.
"Jack!" exclaimed Kylie, skidding to halt in front of him. She got straight to the point. "You're leaving?"
"Yes," Jack replied sadly. He had seen plenty of his old friend over the last couple of days but now, looking down into her big green eyes, he realised that he didn't want to leave her just yet. "I have to go with Mom."
"Of course," Kylie nodded, sinking onto the nearest arm of the sofa. "Of course you do. Ach – this hardly seems fair. I only just got you back."
"I'll call you every day," Jack said generously.
"Every day?" Kylie laughed slightly. "No you won't."
"Sure I will."
"Oh, Jack, you don't have to. E-mail me."
Jack looked blank. "Do what?"
"Oh… yeah." Kylie rose to her feet and headed for the stairs, beckoning Jack to follow. "Jack, while you were away, computers took over the world. Let me show you some of the things they can do."
Half an hour later:
The Mustang pulled up inside the firehouse; the doors flew open and Roland and Sandra climbed out. Kylie, demonstrating the Internet to Jack at Janine's computer (he had quite a nasty headache by this time) looked up enquiringly. She caught Roland's eye and raised her eyebrows. Jack had volunteered the information that his mother had gone with Roland to the police station about ten minutes ago, when he realised that Kylie wasn't going to enquire. Roland just shrugged, and made for the stairs: he didn't know what had gone on between Sandra and the police. Still, whatever it was, Sandra's expression suggested that it had not been what she'd hoped.
"Jack, baby," ventured Sandra, as she approached the reception desk. "We have to go as soon as possible. Have you been to the bathroom?"
"No," replied Jack. "I don't need to go to the bathroom."
"Yes, you do – you haven't been for hours. Go on."
Just for a moment, Kylie was transported back to the early nineteen eighties. Jack sloped off to the bathroom under his mother's stern gaze and then, quite suddenly, they were back in the present. Sandra was no longer just Jack's mommy. She was a wronged woman who hated Kylie for reasons no one was quite sure of – probably not even herself – and she did not look happy.
"Listen," Sandra snarled, in a low voice, leaning over the desk and moving her face uncomfortably close to Kylie's. "I know there's something you haven't told me."
"I told you everything," lied Kylie. It was a knee-jerk reaction, but she wouldn't have wanted to say anything else even if she could.
"I don't believe you," snapped Sandra. "You know something – you always have. Did you tell the police?"
"I told the police everything."
"Perhaps you did. They're keeping something from me – I know it."
"Mrs. Ryan, please!" begged Kylie. "Jack was… is my friend! If I had known anything that could help find him, don't you think I would have told you?"
Sandra's eyes narrowed. "There's more to this than meets the eye. Kylie, you were there. Please tell me."
"I… I can't remember."
Sandra snorted derisively. "You as well?"
"I must have seen what happened to Jack that day," Kylie faltered, "but whatever it was, I blocked it from my memory." That, at least, had once been true.
"Really?" asked Sandra. She looked unsure, like she didn't know whether to believe Kylie or not. "Well, if that's true, it must have been something terrib-… oh, Jack, hi. Ready to go?"
"I guess," shrugged Jack.
With a heavy heart, Kylie rose to her feet and made her way around the desk. She wrapped her arms around Jack's waist and he encircled her shoulders in his, each giving the other a gentle, affectionate squeeze.
"I'm gonna miss you," said Kylie, her voice wavering. There was a lump in her throat and tears pricked the backs of her eyes. "But at least I'll know where you are this time, huh?"
"Yeah. I'll, um… e-mail."
Kylie laughed. "Me too." She pulled gently away and gazed up into his face, keeping her hands on him, and asked uncertainly, "Still no sign of…?"
Jack knew what she meant. He shook her head.
"Well." She dropped her arms and took a step back. "Good luck."
"Thanks," smiled Jack, aware of his mother waiting impatiently for him by the exit. "Goodbye."
"You mean au revoir."
"Um… sure."
She watched him to the door, understandably worried about what lay in store for him. On the inside, Jack was still just a child: there was a lot he didn't know besides the difference between goodbye and au revoir. Kylie sighed, telling herself that he would be fine. He had always been a bright kid – he'd catch up… well, soon enough. It wasn't even as though he didn't have help; he had been reunited with his mother. But of course, that train of thought led to another worry…
"Eduardo," ventured Kylie, sitting down beside him on the sofa. "The police still haven't found Jack's father. What might that mean?"
"I… guess it means he's missing," Eduardo replied hesitantly. He didn't feel the urge to say maybe he's dead. Even he could see that, this time, it really was not appropriate. "I don't really know a lot about this stuff, Ky."
"You've obviously picked up something, though. Come on, be honest with me. What does it mean?"
"I don't know. He might be using a different name, or he might have left the country without telling anybody, or he might be - "
"Dead?"
"Um, well… he might be."
"He might be dead, and no one knows. Like, he might have committed suicide or… or something."
"Kylie." He glanced down at her arm that was resting on the back of the sofa, and noticed the nervous twitching of her fingers. After a moment's deliberation he dared to put his hand over hers. She didn't object. "There's no reason to assume that."
"Will they keep looking for him?" asked Kylie.
"I guess so," Eduardo replied gently. "I mean, why wouldn't they?"
"What if he is dead?" Kylie asked desperately. "That's a horrible thing for anybody to come back to… their dad, dead, way before his time… and especially Jack because he's really still just a kid."
"Yeah, well." Eduardo withdrew his consoling hand and snapped his eyes away from the concern in Kylie's face. This was not a comfortable topic for him. "You know what cops are like. The guy's probably married with six more kids and still in New York and they can't find him because his name is spelt wrong on a file somewhere."
Kylie sighed. "That would be nice," she said. "It's unlikely, but it would be nice."
To be continued…