She's Gone! Read online

  She was six years old. Mute, as far as we could tell. “She doesn’t talk, but she seems bright enough,” Linda informed us, nodding her head towards the child, as if she were deaf as well. Maybe she was.

  Alyssa took over, as she always did. “Let’s go freshen up,” she said, leading Julie to the bathroom. Obediently, Julie followed her and when they emerged she was transformed except for her ratty clothing. Being small myself, I was able to find some clothes I’d recently outgrown in the bottom of my dresser drawers. Julie became our new project.

  She didn’t speak, and at first her eyes were perpetually downcast, her body bowed into itself. Early that fall Alyssa, ever the take-charge care-giver, looked after her hygiene and got her enrolled in grade one. Linda managed to take her to school her first day. Julie slunk along holding her mother’s hand. She and I attended the same school, so I joined them. I could see the fear and trepidation in her little face as we approached throngs of kids playing in the playground. Her mother took her to the office, and I went off to join my friends. From what I could see from then on, Julie remained pretty much invisible amongst her peers. She seemed to like school, though. She was the first one up, getting herself dressed and ready, gathering her home reading and a stuffy that she always took with her in her back-pack. She and I headed out the door promptly at 8:10 each morning, and she sidled off to the first grade area without my help, rewarding me with a little smile and a wave as she left me.

  I was able to fit in pretty well at school. Many of the kids were as poorly dressed as I was, and I had complete freedom to roam the streets at night and do anything that came into our little heads. We’d play hide-and-seek in the dark, ride our bikes over hills feeling like daring dirt-bikers or we’d hang around the 7-11 watching the older kids smoke and neck and swear. Of course, my sister, Alyssa, was never amongst them. Forever the good girl, she was at home studying and going to bed early.

  I wasn’t the most popular kid in our group of friends. Alison was. Alison had big, blue eyes, a pert little nose and long blonde hair that she flipped coquettishly all the time, it seemed. It worked for her. She was tall for her age, and had a trilling voice that masked the ugliness in her mean words. For some reason, Alison didn’t like me.

  We got our clothes at the Next-to-New and our moms let Alyssa, Julie and I pick our own. I picked the most beautiful pair of jeans with embroidered flowers and sparkles, proudly wearing them to school one Monday. At recess we played tag on the playground equipment, and as I climbed from one rung to the next – a big step for my short legs – I heard a rrriiip and felt the cold air on my butt. Unfortunately for me, Alison heard and saw it too. “Shea’s got a bare bum!” she screamed, pointing at my backside, her face contorted with laughter. “And she’s not wearing underwear!” It wasn’t long before half the school crowded around, scrutinizing my bare ass.

  As I scrambled from the monkey bars and fled, my heart racing, across the playground, through the gates and down the street towards home I sensed a presence following me. Turning slightly, I saw Julie, running behind me. When we threw open the doors and fell into the house, she clung to me, her eyes filled with sorrow. She hugged me, clinging to me, and the powerful vibration of love and empathy that that little kid poured into me was staggering. She became my little buddy. I loved her even more.

  Just before Christmas that year we received an unwanted present. Henry. He came to live with us, and Linda was relegated, permanently, to the couch. Henry was a lean, mean, dud machine. He never wore a shirt, and his meagre little chest and skinny arms were overwhelmed by a floppy pot belly that fell down over his tight, faded blue jeans. His blonde hair was greying and thinning so he combed it over his head. The skin on face was porous and ruddy. His watery blue eyes stared creepily at any female that moved. And there were a lot in our house. He was covered in tattoos, and I think he thought he was God’s gift.

  He did have one interesting trick up his sleeve. Every so often he’d gather a big gob of spit in his mouth and then he’d hawk it straight and fast – like a dart. I was pretty fascinated with how he could do that. I guess he’d had lots of practice.

  He’d been injured at work somehow, and so he received a monthly cheque that helped out with the finances. That Christmas we all got presents. Mom got a big zircon ring that she waved around on her hand, laughing and calling herself Elizabeth Taylor. Linda got a carton of cigarettes. He gave Alyssa a fancy notebook and pen. I got a silver bracelet, and Julie got a fancy little pink outfit.

  “Go try it on!” he gabbled from where he slouched on the couch, taking up all the room while the rest of us sat on bean-bag chairs or the floor. So she did. She looked adorable in it as she crept into the room, a shy smile on her pretty little face. “Now ain’t she the sweetest little nymph,” he said. I didn’t like the way he looked at her.

  Chapter 12

  SHEA, SEPTEMBER 15, 2018

  I think about the “look” between Ben and Moira and my chest clenches. I feel a poisonous jealousy over-take me. Are Ben and Moira having an affair? I lay back on my pillow, wrestling with sleeplessness, and my truculent mind reigns supreme. Stop this! Go to sleep!

  But I can’t. I think about all the nights he works late at the law firm; the nights I hear her in the background when he calls. Her voice so lilting, so flirtatious, so sexy. She is drop-dead gorgeous with a voluptuous body to boot; the opposite of me. When she enters a room the attention automatically shifts to her. And she revels in it. Her laughing, touchy-feely charm affects everyone around her. Anyone receiving even a smidgen of her attention feels bathed in glory. It’s almost tangible. I, on the other hand, tend toward the silent, the severe. Smiling doesn’t come easily to me. Nor does small talk and flattery. Why wouldn’t he choose her over me?

  She’s smart too, and well educated. They went to University together, both earning top marks. When she asked him to partner up with her in a law firm it was only natural that he’d say yes. Mommy and Daddy were more than happy to foot the bill, though he insisted he’d pay them back. And he has been. That, with just having started out and the expenses that go with it, keeps us living cheque to cheque and keeps him working almost every waking moment. Moira comes from money as well. Another thing they have in common. Me? I spent my teen-age years partying. Didn’t even finish high school. I felt lucky to get a job as a waitress. What did he even see in me?

  Then I couldn’t handle motherhood. Moping and crying, unable to complete even the simplest of tasks, I failed completely as a wife and mother once Cassandra was born. Moira was here often, reaching to pick our baby up, holding her close and cooing at her. Chucking a thumb under her little chin, Moira had the baby laughing uncontrollably while I’d sit miserably by looking dour and feeling sour. I hate her!

  The phone rings. I glance at the clock beside my bed. Nine-thirty. So much for going to sleep early. Ben is still in our study glued to the computer screen.

  The phone display tells me that it’s Alyssa calling. I’m reluctant to pick it up. The last time I saw her was when Kyle lit into her. He was only protecting me, but I feel guilty. I should’ve said something. He doesn’t understand our relationship.

  I answer the phone. “Hello? Alyssa, I’m sorry.”

  She doesn’t respond for a moment. Then, “Shea, you know I only want what’s best for you.”

  “I know.”

  “How are you doing? Are you eating? Can you sleep? You’re not taking pills, are you?” Her voice quivers a little. I can tell how worried she is.

  “Only the amount the doctor prescribed,” I lie. “Don’t worry, Alyssa. I’m coping. I just want my baby back.”

  There is silence on the other end of the line. Then, “Shea, what if that doesn’t happen?” She speaks in a near-whisper. Does she know something I don’t?

  My heart lurches in my chest, and I feel like the breath’s been knocked out of me. “What do you mean?”

  “Alyssa, it’s been two days now. What if they never find her?” She struggles to s
ound calm and comforting.

  I’m breathless. “They have to!”

  “Maybe someone who really wants a baby has taken her.”

  “Alyssa, I really want her!”

  “But maybe you just weren’t ready to have a baby,” she says, urging me to see her reasoning, as she always does. “You couldn’t look after her. It was tearing you apart.”

  It hits me. Did Alyssa take my baby? Did she give it to someone who she thinks wants a baby? Someone who could take better care of her?

  I’m screaming into the phone now. “Alyssa, did you take my baby?” And I’m crying again, uncontrollably, shaking and hyperventilating.

  “Of course I didn’t,” she says. And I hang up. I don’t know if I believe her.

  Scrambling out of bed I make my way to the kitchen, and grab the card Darby Greer left on the table. With shaking hands, I punch in the number. Her answering machine picks up. “Hi, it’s Detective Greer. I’m unable to take your call but if you leave your name and number I’ll get back to you as soon as possible.”

  My voice shakes so badly I can barely utter the words. “Darby, I think maybe my sister took Cassandra!” For a moment I stand there, my head whirling. I need to talk to someone. Shoving a jacket on, slipping into sandals, I make my way to Diane’s house next door.

  The night air and the cold wet grass on my feet revitalize me as I race across the lawn. Her lights are on, and I bang on the door like a crazy woman. I see her silhouette peer through the window a moment, and upon recognizing me she throws the door open.

  “Shea! What’s happened?” her eyes bulge as she pulls me into her home. “I just talked to Alyssa on the phone,” I’m gasping. “She said someone who really wants a baby may have taken Cassandra. She thinks it’s for the best!

  Diane drags me in and sits me down at her kitchen table. I sit there panting for a moment, while she holds my shoulders to comfort me. Then she stands back, gazing at me with a pained look.

  I release a puff of air, and sit back in my chair. Her kitchen is inviting and cheery. Ruffled yellow curtains, matching table-cloth, flowers … I feel more at home here than I do in my own house. She’s been baking muffins made with whole-wheat flour and lots of blueberries. She pours me coffee and pushes the plate toward me.

  “Let’s think this through,” she says. And I eat and breathe and relax for the first time in over forty-eight hours.

  Diane’s fluffy tabby rubs her body back and forth across my leg, and I bend down to scratch her ears. “Alyssa was bent on trying to convince me that it’s for the best. She’s spent her whole life trying to fix and control mine!”

  “She’s tried to get you to stay off drugs and booze,” Diane looked me in the eye. “To get you to finish school, choose the right friends, and keep out of trouble. She’s never done anything to hurt you, Shea. This is major.”

  I break down. “She thinks it’s for the best. For Cassandra and for me.” I shake, sobbing. Diane rises to come around the table and hug me as I blubber uncontrollably. “She’s my own sister and that’s what she thinks!”

  I bathe in the kindness and affection of my friend for a while, venting about my fear over Ben and Moira. “I hate them both,” I tell her.

  “Ben loves you to death,” she tells me. “I just don’t believe it. I see the way he looks at you. The way he speaks to you. Treats you.” She shakes her head. “I don’t believe he’s having an affair.”

  We head to the door, and I break down again, leaning against the wall by her front door.

  “Shea, you’re feeling alone right now, but there are a lot of people who love you. A lot of us who care about you. And we want what’s best for you. Let’s go home and spruce your place up. Maybe go for a walk,” and she reaches into the closet to grab a jacket. Suddenly a coldness hits me to the core. That’s when I see it. A green trench coat.

  I picture Darby leaning toward me, her dark eyes intently staring into mine. “Someone wearing a large, green trench coat, carrying a bundle walked by. Do you know of anyone with a coat like that?”

  Chapter 13

  DIANE, 2016

  The soothing, cool rush of the ocean pressed against her as she swam, filling Diane with new hope. The sky above was cloudless; bright. She flipped over to lay on her back, scanning the beach. Doug wasn’t there any more. He must have gone back to their rooms. A young family played on the shore, the mother pulling her little one along in the shallow water. The father sat with his son, helping him build a sand-castle. Diane felt the tug on her heart. She let herself float in closer, listening to their eager voices; the high-pitched voices of the children, the soft, lower voices of their parents. And she heard them laugh; the most glorious sound of all. A family laughing together.

  She emerged, looking to smile at them. They didn’t see her, so involved were they in each other. Her toes sunk into the soft sand as she walked, bending to gather her flip-flops and put them on before heading up to the suite she and her husband shared. The hot sun dried the droplets of water on her body, and she reveled in the luxury of it all. It had been a good idea to, coming here. Both she and Doug needed to get away from it all. A break. A new start. This is what they’d required.

  As she approached the gleaming white condos overlooking the seaside she saw him sitting at a table on their patio, drink in hand. Could he see her? She wiggled a little, an exaggerated sensuous walk. She knew she looked good in her new red bikini. She’s worked at it; eating clean and exercising hard.

  “Mmmmm! Hey, big guy!” and she grinned at him, winking, thrusting her boobs out a little and twisting her shoulders, feeling a little silly about her obvious attempt at seduction.

  Doug smiled indulgently and rose to pour her a glass of wine. She sat at the table, arranging herself to look her most alluring. Shoulders back, chest out, stomach tight, legs long, crossed at the ankles. She smiled at him as he set her wine before her and sat down.

  “Thanks, Honey. You always know what I want.” And she winked suggestively. He didn’t bite. He just stared out at the turquoise waves lapping gently onto the white sand. She touched his hand, stroking it lovingly for a moment, eyes downcast. He patted it with his other hand, like one would to comfort a child, then gently withdrew it from her lingering touch. She looked at him. His lips were tight, his eyes averted from her gaze.

  She tried a more direct approach. “The OPK says I’m ovulating now.”

  He looked at her, now, through narrowed eyes. “OPK?”

  She felt a rush of resentment. Why do I always feel like I’m in this alone? “The ovulation predictor kit. I told you about it.”

  He shrugged, exhaling a gust of air. “I don’t think I want that,” he said.

  “WHAT?” spittle built in the corner of her mouth. “Its practically all I’ve talked about for months now! You KNOW how desperately I want a child!” She felt the adrenalin surging throughout her body. After fifteen years of marriage he’s not ready? I’m thirty-eight! I’m running out of time!

  “After all this time you’re not ready?” she spat.

  “I didn’t say that. I said I don’t think it’s what I want.” He looked coldly at her.

  She blinked. Shook her head. “And you’re telling me this now?”

  He placed a hand over hers this time, and looked her in the eye. He cleared his throat. Looked away. Looked back. “Diane, I have to tell you something.”

  She felt her insides thud. She couldn’t speak. She just looked at him.

  “I can’t do this any more.” He spoke slowly, methodically, as if he’d practiced this speech over and over. He breathed deeply for a moment, and continued. “Diane, I know I should have told you this before. I haven’t always realized it myself.”

  She just looked at him, biting her lip, feeling her chest tighten. What? And suddenly she knew. She’d probably known for a while. But she made him say it.

  “Diane, I have a boyfriend. I’m gay.”

  She realized later that she should have been more understanding.
That he couldn’t help it. He’d tried. But in her utter desolation she raged. She wept. She screamed. And mostly it was this. How could he do this to her? More than anything in the world she wanted – needed - a child. She would do anything.

  Chapter 14

  SEPTEMBER 15, 2018

  All the lights in the house are on. The curtains aren’t drawn. Stupid girl! I stand and watch her move aimlessly about. She’s in the baby’s room now, holding dirty clothes up to her nose. She likes the smell of baby puke, apparently. But even engaged in this gross activity she is so beautiful. So fragile and delicate; her movements graceful. Like a dancer. Her long neck stretches back as she inhales the sour milk smell. God knows what else.

  It saddens me to see her so bereft. Can she not see that this is for the best? That Cassandra is so much better off now? Her life with that poor baby was a train wreck. Soon she will realize it’s better this way. For everyone. Some day she’ll thank me.

  Chapter 15

  SEPTEMBER 15, 2018

  Darby paced, stopping now and then to write on a white-board, finishing with a flourish. Mel sat back in a chair, hands folded across his ample belly.

  “Two days and we’ve got shit!” She stopped and stared at the board, deep in thought. “What the fuck has happened to that kid? There’s no ransom note, no phone calls … fuck-all!”