The facade slipped almost as easily as the vanilla goop from his ice cream sandwich. The sun was beating down on his back, sending rivers of sweat down his sides. All the same, he hadn't wanted to go back inside.
"Are you sure we can't go back to the hotel?" His father pulled his glasses up with one hand and rubbed his left eye with the other. "We can always come back later for the fireworks."
Billy shook his head. Around him, the world was teeming with life. Lines for rides went on for what seemed like miles. People huddled in small groups outside shops and restaurants and took photos in what seemed like the park's every nook and cranny. Half the time he was bumping shoulders with someone, and for another fourth he seemed to be quickly darting out of someone's way. In his seven years of life, this was probably the most people that he had ever seen in one place.
Maybe it was the park's motto, or maybe it was just the smiles on everyone else's face, but Billy was grinning. The thoughts were there, but he didn't push them away. Most days, Billy saved them for the night, when he had the shroud of night and blankets to hide under. Now, though, what did it matter if his father could see the words written across his face, the glimmer of a hope that never could truly die in his eyes? If he could just find that same longing in the eyes of another...
Well, his wish could come true. He'd wished it silently each night in lieu of prayers, repeated it silently every time a comet crossed the sky, and thought of it each time he saw a birthday cake. It could happen anywhere. He knew that theoretically. Weirder things happened. Circumstances had torn them apart but could just easily put them back together again.
Billy could find his mother.
She may not have recognized the boy now, not with his height. Even as one of the smallest boys in his class, he was bigger than before. New clothes and a new name didn't help. But his heart was the same as ever. If they could just meet!
Some nights he'd wondered if she could stand going to places like this. Why would she? The barkers hawking stuffed animals and deep fried delights couldn't give her what she really and truly wanted. What she needed, what she had been searching for over years.
But then again, why couldn't she? She may have lost her son at a place like this, but they could just as easily find each other here again. A little slice of the world, almost every kind of person imaginable, was packed in that park on a muggy July day. So why couldn't she be there too?
"Oh, look at you," his father said. He sighed, reaching forward and dabbed at his chin with a napkin. His own pretzel lay untouched beside him. "Could we at least go inside somewhere?"
Billy only half heard him, but he nodded anyway. He chewed absently on his ice cream sandwich. It could have just as easily tasted like oatmeal or bologna. Taste was forgotten, smell suddenly elusive. All that mattered was the sight and sound of the voice of the most important woman in the world.
Billy continued to search for her when they went inside a store. Kids and tired eyed parents rushed past him, pushing strollers and yelling. Displays of toys went all the way up to the ceiling. Billy walked towards a wall covered in stuffed animals, his father close behind him.
He picked up one without really looking at it. All the dolls, action figures, and plush in the world couldn't avert his eyes from the surrounding crowd. Was she here, searching through hats or grabbing a new T-shirt? Had she just gotten off a ride or finished getting a meal?
"Is that what you want?" his father had asked.
Billy nodded. Just what had he been holding? A Tigger, probably, though the image was fuzzy. Did it really matter?
The memory jumped forward. They were in line, his father right ahead of him, his wallet held in one hand.
"Wait," Billy had said. He pointed to something (to a toy, a display, perhaps even the wall?). "Dad, can I get that? Please?"
"If you insist."
Maybe his father had looked ahead to the register, or maybe Billy had simply ran forward as fast as his little legs could take him. Either way, he was scooting past small groups of people and eventually racing out the door.
Wherever she was, Billy was coming.
Where is he?
It was rare that his and the sins thoughts were one and the same. Right then, though, Thaddeus couldn't tell where his mind ended and theirs began. All he could do was search the store.
"William! William?"
He was screaming. In the heavy din of passerbies, even he struggled to hear himself.
"William!"
Thaddeus dropped the toy and began searching. A few eyes were on him then. A woman, with a mouse pinned to her vest, came to his side.
"Sir, is there a problem?"
A problem?
"My son is gone!"
Find him. Find him!
"What does he look like? What's his name?" She practically had to run to keep up with him, her red ponytail bobbing as she moved. "I can get security."
"William!"
They were outside then, back in the cruel, blazing sun that shone on everything except who Thaddeus truly wanted to see.
"William!"
Another worker, this time a man in a black polo, came up to him.
"William Sivana, black hair, a bit under four feet. A red T-shirt and jean shorts." The words were mechanical, and as soon as they were off his tongue he was yelling again. "William!"
Maybe it was hours later, maybe minutes. Whatever it was, another worker clad in that same black polo appeared, his hand on the shoulder of his son. William was teary-eyed, his mouse hat askew. Tears dotted the sides of Thaddeus's own eyes, and he finally let them fall freely when he saw him. Grabbing him in a hug, he pulled him up and held him close.
"I got lost!" William seemed to say something else, but his voice broke and all Thaddeus heard was a squeak followed by more sobs.
"I know, William, I know. But I'm here, and I found you."
William said nothing else as they made their way back to the hotel.
