By
Marie Shield
“Papa, are we there yet?” Lindsay stands behind the driver’s seat, wraps her arms around her grandfather’s neck, her cheek against his.
Larry ruffles her hair. “Almost, Sweetheart. Almost.”
“That’s what you said yesterday. And twenty gazillion times already. I think you’re a fibber, McGee.” She giggles. “Fibber, fibber, Fibber McGee. Fibber with a liver and a big nose too.”
“Sit back down, Sugar, and buckle up your seat belt,” Judith says. “Tell you what. We’ll sing Ninety-nine Bottles of Beer, and I promise, when we finish, we’ll be there already.”
“Promise not to cheat?” Lindsay asks.
Judith holds up both hands so her granddaughter can see them and crosses her fingers. “Cross my heart and hope to die.”
“Cross your heart and hope to die. Nana, Nana, she does lie.”
“You little monkey you.” Judith reaches into the back and tickles her, then fastens the seatbelt. “Come on, kids. Ninety-nine bottles of beer on the wall, ninety-nine bottles of beer, if one of those bottles should happen to fall…ninety-eight bottles of beer on the wall.”
Lindsay and Jeffery chime in. Judith leans over and whispers to Larry, “Damn, I hope we’re almost there. My happy hour bell has been going off for the last hundred miles.”
He reaches over and pats her knee. “Sixteen miles to go. You’re worse than the kids, Granny.”
“Call me Granny one more time and I guarantee you some mighty long and lonely nights this week.”
###
They’re lucky enough to get a campsite right across from the playground. Tire swings, regular swings and see-saw swings, monkey bars, a small slide, a far from regulation baseball field and a couple of sad looking sandboxes.
When Larry retired they spent weeks looking for an RV, finally deciding on a large Fifth Wheel and traded in one of their cars for a new truck to pull it. They told their friends they bought it so they could do some traveling, but the real reason was to spend quality time with eight-year-old Lindsay and five-year-old Jeffery. Larry spent hours on the computer looking for places the kids would enjoy, and this was their first trip with them; as well as the first time they’d been allowed to keep them for more than an overnight visit. They’ve planned a busy week. Besides the playground, the campground offers supervised nightly programs for children in an outdoor arena, good fishing nearby and Larry is looking forward to teaching them to fish. Sea Lion Caves is only a few miles away, and within a half-hour drive, a rodeo. Like many little girls, Lindsay is horse crazy, although she’s never had the opportunity to see a real horse.
Once the RV is backed into their site, the kids jump out of the truck. Jeffery runs over to his grandfather, turns his palm up and says. “See ya later, Alligator. After while, Pedophile.”
“Jesus,” Judith says. “Where did you hear that word?”
Larry gives her a cross look and hi-fives his grandson. They promised their daughter not to swear in front of the children.
Lindsay pipes up. “Mommy says that’s what men who like little children too much are called. We saw it on TV.” She stands on her tiptoes and whispers in Judith’s ear. “Jeffie is too little to understand, but I do. Don’t tell him. Okay?” She turns and looks at her little brother. “Race you to the swings.” Starts to run, stops and takes her brother’s hand.
Larry puts his hand on the back of Judith’s neck as they watch the kids run across the road to the Kid Park. “It’s okay. It’s not their mother, you know, it’s that damned pencil-neck she married. Guy’s got some kind of poker up his butt.” He slips his arms around her waist. “I don’t know what his problem is. I just know he isn’t going to let us take the kids anymore if they come home swearing…and singing Ninety Nine Bottles of Beer.” He bites her softly. One of her favorite spots, between her neck and shoulder. “Why don’t you make us one of your world famous martinis while I set up the trailer?”
Judith shakes her head and smiles. They used to sing Ninety Nine Bottles of Beer when they took road trips with their daughter Kate. She loved it, and it’s hard to believe she’d object to her children singing it.
###
It’s been non-stop activity since they arrived. Judith’s tired. She loves her grandchildren, but they’re up with the sun and don’t wind down until ten o’clock at night. She knows her daughter puts them to bed at eight and makes Jeffery take an afternoon nap. But what are grandparents for if not to spoil them a little? Still, she has a new understanding of why Mother Nature decided to shut down the baby factory when women reach a certain age.
Tonight’s event at the arena is a Punch and Judy puppet show to be followed by a campfire and s’mores. Judith packs marshmallows and Hershey bars in Ziploc bags, the graham crackers in a Tupperware container and stuffs them into Lindsay’s backpack.
She turns to her husband. “Why don’t you go ahead and take them? I’ll come over after I finish the dishes.”
As soon as they’re out the door, she gets out the martini shaker and fills it with ice before carefully measuring out the gin and vermouth. She kicks off her shoes, slips one of the episodes of Desperate Housewives into the DVD player, and curls up on the sofa. She’s on her second drink when Larry opens the door.
“Want some company?” he asks.
“What about the kids?”
“They’ll be fine. I told Lindsay to keep an eye on her brother.” He mixes himself a drink and joins her on the sofa. “The puppet show won’t be over for another hour. Thought we’d have a cocktail and then go see how they’re doing.”
“I don’t know, Honey…”
“Oh, come on. We used to drop Kate off at the movies by herself when she was that age.” He pats her thigh. “I could use some adult conversation.”
Forty minutes later, Judith looks at her watch and puts her shoes back on. “I think we’d better go check on them.”
“Right. Give me a minute, I need to use the bathroom.”
They can hear children’s laughter before they reach the arena. Punch is beating someone with his stick. Possibly Judy?
“I’d forgotten how violent this show is,” Judith says. “Apparently, kids still love it.” She steps closer to the stage and looks for Lindsay and Jeffery among the children seated on the ground. She turns to Larry. “I don’t see them. Where were they sitting.?”
“They were up front. Right in the middle.”
There are adults and older children milling around behind the seated children.
“I’ll go check the bathrooms. Why don’t you look around here and behind the stage?” Judith says.
When she gets back, the show is over, the puppeteers bowing and handing out helium balloons. Larry comes up behind her and takes her arm.
“I don’t see them anywhere,” he says. “Not in the bathrooms either?”
She shakes her head. “Maybe they decided to come get us?”
“I doubt it, but I’ll check. Why don’t you ask around and see if some of the other parents have seen them? Don’t worry, Honey. They can’t have gone far.”
###
Judith taps a very pregnant blonde on the arm. “I can’t seem to spot my grandchildren. Have you seen a little curly-haired guy in a red tee shirt. He’s with his big sister, she’s wearing…” God, she can’t remember what Lindsay had on. “She has ponytails…and freckles.”
“I saw them earlier. They left with their dad.”
“Their dad? Do you remember what he looked like?”
“Sure. Kinda chunky. Had on a Budweiser cap.”
Larry. Judith has a momentary flash of irritation that this girl would refer to him as chunky. He’s just well built.
She asks a middle-aged man. He shrugs and shakes his head, his eyes on a pretty young woman in tight short shorts bending to tie a toddler’s shoe. Then she spots a woman in uniform. The ranger in charge of the evening programs. What’s her name? Sharon? No. Shannon.
“Remember me?” Judith says. “We’re the people in A22. You stopped by the first night we were here and invited our grandchildren to come to the evening programs.”
“Of course.” Shannon smiles warmly. “You and your family having a good time?”
“Well…yes, but…we brought the children over tonight…and now we can’t seem to find them. I was wondering if you’ve seen them?”
“I saw them with your husband before the show started.” She frowns, looks concerned. “I had to leave for awhile to remind the campground host to bring the wood for the campfire. I got back about a half-hour ago and…. Are you sure your husband didn’t take them back to your camper? I saw him a few minutes ago, but I haven’t seen the children since I got back.”
“Larry’s checking again but…” Tears fill her eyes and she chokes on the words. “They weren’t there. They aren’t here and they aren’t in the bathrooms.”
Larry comes running across the grass.
“Not there.” He’s out of breath. “Did you find them?”
The ranger is already on her two-way radio. “Can you get a couple of trucks out right away?” she asks. “We’ve got two missing children.” She turns to Judith. “How old are they?”
Judith’s heart begins to race and she stares blankly at the ranger. Larry answers for her.
Shannon repeats into her transceiver. “A five year old boy wearing jeans and a red tee shirt. Name Jeffery. An eight year old girl wearing white shorts, a stripped top and a pink Little Mermaid backpack. Name Lindsay. Brother and sister. Last name Riddell. It’s been about an hour since anyone has seen them.”
Larry wraps his arms around Judith and she sobs against his chest.
Shannon moves several feet away and continues to give and take information. When she finishes she comes back over to where they are standing.
Shannon asks for their cell phone number and suggests they keep it turned on to receive updates. “If we don’t find them within the next twenty minutes, we’ll call in the Sheriff’s Department and expand the search,” she says. “Why don’t one of you stay here and one of you go back to your site in case the kids find their way back to either place.”
###
Judith turns on the cell. Should she call Kate? Should she wait until after Lindsay and Jeffery are found? Either way, she knows this will be the last time they’ll be allowed to take the grandchildren. But why cause her daughter anxiety? She rationalizes that she needs to keep the line open so the rangers can get through. She knows it’s a flimsy excuse not to make the call she so desperately wishes she’d never have to make and hates herself for it.
What can she say? How can she explain this? Maybe she should wait and let Larry make the call. He’s much better than she is in a crisis. A knock on the door. A flood of relief. They’ve been found. She flings open the door.
A young man in a sheriff’s uniform removes his hat and says, “May I come in, Ma’am?”
“Where are they? Are they all right?”
“We haven’t found them yet, Ma’am. May I come in? I’d like to ask you some questions.”
“Of course. Can I fix you a cup of coffee?” Her stupid polite response undoes her and she collapses on the sofa, her hands over her face. “Where is my husband?”
The officer steps through the door. “I’m sorry. We took your husband in for questioning. He was the last person seen with them.”
“Larry? You took Larry in?” Her tears stop. Her fear replaced by a rage she knows she has to control.
“We need to give him a sobriety test. The ranger said you were both drunk.”
Larry may be able to pass it, given the amount of time and the fact he only had one drink, but she knows she probably couldn’t. She sits up straight and composes her face.
“I don’t know what gave her that impression. We did have a couple of cocktails this evening, but we certainly weren’t drunk.”
The officer sits on the couch across from Judith. “Ma’am, I can smell the alcohol on your breath. We need your help to find those kids. Try to relax and tell me the truth about what happened tonight.”
Whether or not they were drunk, even Larry being taken to jail is not as important as finding the children. Judith gives him her recollection of the evening’s events. She keeps backtracking, remembering small things. The barrettes she put in Lindsay’s hair. Jeffrey wanted to take one of his action figures with him, but she can’t remember whether he actually took it or not. She gets up to check but can’t tell if any are missing. Larry would know. It’s almost midnight when they finish.
The door opens and Larry walks in. Pale and used-up looking. The officer leaves and they are alone. Judith makes the coffee she’s been craving. Larry sits slumped on a sofa. He doesn’t say anything. Neither does she. She pours coffee for both of them and sits across from him.
“Are you okay?” she asks.
“Fuckin-A.” He stands up. “How about you? Are you fucking-A okay?”
“Don’t do this, Larry. We’re on the same side.”
“I’m sorry, Babe. I didn’t mean to bark at you. Have you called Kate yet? There’s a TV crew setting up at the entrance gate. It’ll be all over the news tomorrow.”
“Will you call? I don’t know what to say.”
He sighs and runs his fingers through his hair. “Give me the phone.”
Judith listens while Larry calmly explains they only left the children alone at the puppet show for a few minutes. The police think they may have gone off with some of the children they’ve been playing with and are doing a door-to-door search. Everyone is sure they’ll turn up and he’ll call back as soon as he knows more.
He sets the phone on the coffee table. “They’re on there way here.”
Headlights shine through the window and Judith opens the door. A park ranger steps out of his truck.
“Wanted to bring you folks up to speed,” he says. “We’re almost done with the door-to-door. A few people think they saw them, but so far none of that is panning out. Our best leads are a waitress in town who thinks they came in the diner around nine last night with a young couple, and we found a Hershey bar wrapper at one of the sites.”
“Dozens of people make s’mores when they’re camping,” Larry says.
“True. But your wife told the officer she’d packed Hershey bars in your granddaughter’s backpack. The site was registered to a couple in a light blue 1996 Astro Van. Colorado plates. They were across the street from you, just past the Kid Park. Do you happen to know them?”
Both Judith and Larry shake their heads. Judith says, “I remember seeing the van, but never anyone around it. Have you talked to them yet?”
“They must have left sometime last night. Didn’t leave anything around to indicate they might be back, but they’re paid up through tomorrow. We’ve alerted state highway patrol to keep an eye out for them.” He closes the door to his truck and steps closer to them. “This has got to be hell for you folks. One of the television crews is on their way over to interview you. I’ll stay if you like.”
###
Larry tells the reporter he’ll give a statement and Ranger Sorenson will answer questions. He says almost verbatim what he told Kate earlier. The ranger answers a few questions without revealing any of what he told Judith and Larry. He concludes on an optimistic note, saying they expect the children will be safely returned sometime this morning.
Judith and Larry take turns cat-napping. Larry tries Kate’s cell phone several times. She doesn’t answer.
Around noon the ranger stops by again. They’ve found the Astro van. Early yesterday evening the wife became ill and the Colorado couple drove into town and checked into a motel. They’d seen and talked to the children about lunchtime. Lindsay shared a Hershey bar with them. The couple has never been to the diner.
They are out of bottled water and coffee. Larry takes the truck into town to get some. Judith sits in a lawn chair in front of the camper with the cell phone in her hand. It doesn’t seem possible the sun is as bright, the slight breeze rustling the aspens, the birds, the chipmunks, everything as peaceful and lovely as it was yesterday. Occasionally, she gets out of the chair and looks up and down the road. Watches and listens to the children playing in the Kid Park. She feels helpless and hopeless. She jumps when the cell rings.
“Mom, it’s me,” Kate says. “We’re here. I’m calling from a pay phone. I don’t want Roger to know I talked to you. Please don’t call again. He’s gone over to the sheriff’s station to file a restraining order against you. He’s absolutely furious. The Sheriff told us you and Daddy had been drinking. Go home. And let us handle this.”
“Wait, Kate…that’s not…” Judith says into a dead phone. The woods behind the playground look ominous, the heat of the sun is oppressive and suffocating, the raucous calls of the blue jays and ravens threaten. She no longer hears the children laughing and playing across the street. She drops the phone, pushes herself out of the chair and goes inside the trailer. Pours a glass of gin. What difference does it make now?
###
It’s been almost a year since the camping trip. Larry spends his days and most of his evenings volunteering at the center for Missing and Exploited Children. He continues to believe Lindsay and Jeffery will be returned safely.
Kate and Roger filed a civil lawsuit against them for willful neglect and abuse. Larry sold the camper and the truck, borrowed against his pension and depleted everything they had in savings to settle out of court.
After Judith had the stroke, he sold the house and they moved into assisted living.
He looks at his wife, wondering if she knows who he is. Judith sits in her wheelchair in front of the window, her hands folded in her lap, a vacant stare. She’s not blind but doesn’t seem to see anything. She has a sweet smile on her face. Sometimes he sees what he believes is a glimmer of recognition in her eyes. The doctors say she could speak if she chose to, but she never does. He can only hope she’s reliving memories of happier times.
The End