Authors: Heather Gudenkauf
Tags: #Romance, #Iowa, #Psychological fiction, #Missing children, #Family secrets, #Problem families, #Family Life, #General, #Literary, #Suspense fiction, #Suspense, #Fiction, #Dysfunctional families
Her mother had taken one look at her torn and bleeding feet and picked her up, holding her as she would a toddler, chest to chest, Calli’s chin resting on her shoulder. Petra’s father had scared her. The look on his face, the terrible sound in his voice. Much different from her father’s, but even more insistent. They had left so quickly, but that was good, they were going up to get Ben and Petra, get help, which was what Ben had told her to do. And she had done that, gotten help. Everything would be okay now. She was so tired now, so sleepy. The water had tasted good; she drank and drank from the water bottle her mother pressed to her lips. But now she felt sick to her stomach, the water was gurgling around in her empty middle.
She was vaguely aware that she had spoken. One word.
Ben.
She had said her brother’s name and she was so surprised that nothing bad had happened when she spoke the word. Her mother was still there holding tightly to her, she hadn’t been ripped from her, nothing bad had happened. Calli thought
that she might like to say more, but she was so very tired. The feeling had returned to her damaged feet and they burned. All she really wanted to do was sleep, sleep with her hands linked around her mother, her head tucked into the soft groove that was her mother’s neck. In the distance she could hear the wail of an ambulance coming closer.
In a quiet, half-asleep nook of her mind, the thought that she perhaps should have said more to Deputy Louis flitted at her like a dragonfly. What had she said?
Ben.
But there was so much more she should have said.
Ben, Daddy, Petra, that man, Ben, Daddy, Petra, that man, Ben, Daddy, Petra, that man.
Petra’s daddy had looked so frightened, but she had only said
Ben,
that wasn’t scary. Then Petra’s daddy had run and then Deputy Louis ran after him. To help.
Ben, Daddy, Petra, that man, Ben, Daddy, Petra, that man, Ben, Daddy, Petra, that man.
Calli soundlessly mouthed the words
Ben, Daddy, Petra, that man, Ben, Daddy, Petra, that man, Ben, Daddy, Petra, that man
…She was too weary and her mouth stilled.
The siren from the ambulance came to an abrupt stop and Calli could feel her mother laying her down. She struggled to stay in her mother’s arms, plucked at her shirt, trying to take hold, but her fingers felt weak and boneless and she was only able to feel the fabric slide through her grasp like water.
Her mother’s face drifted above her and she heard her say, “It’s okay now, Calli, I’m staying with you. I won’t leave. Sleep now. Just sleep.”
She felt her mother’s own fingers rest lightly on the side of her cheek and her mother kissed her, her lips warm and dry, like paper. And Calli drew in the scent that was her mother and let sleep take her.
I hear something in the woods crashing toward me. Oh, God, I think, Dad is coming back. Oh, God, he will kill me this time. I jump to my feet and ready myself for him. I tilt my head to hear better, I can barely see and I run my hands over my face, it feels puffy and sore. I reach for a nearby branch. It isn’t very thick or sturdy, but it has sharp points. I may be able to hold him back with it. Aim for the eyes, I tell myself.
The noise from the forest comes closer and it sounds too big to be Dad, it sounds like it is running on more than two feet and my next thought is coyote. And that freaks me out more than my father for some reason. Maybe because, with Dad, I know his ways, the way he moves, how he fights. A coyote would be a whole different story and I look around for a bigger stick. Then the noise is here, right here, and my next thought is of Petra. A coyote might go right for her, she is so little and helpless. She looks hurt bad. A big old coyote could just drag her off, eat her up in three big bites. I hurry
over to her and spread my arms out wide, holding the stick ready for battle, waiting.
I’m not sure what is more surprising, me not seeing a coyote or my dad smashing out of the woods or seeing Petra’s dad and the deputy sheriff. I keep my eye on Mr. Gregory, because he looks so dang mad. I see him see Petra lying there and then he sees me holding this big old stick and I know right away what is going through his mind. Before I can even say anything he is flying at me. This old, real proper man flying at me. I see his feet actually leave the ground and I think,
Well, crap, he thinks I did this to Petra.
For the second time that day I get the wind knocked outta me, and let me tell you, it hurts a heck of a lot more the second time round when you can see what’s coming.
Then Mr. Gregory is on top of me, screaming something I can’t understand, and the whole time I’m not breathing so I can’t tell him what really happened, that they should be out there looking for my dad. But the only thing that comes outta me is a big “oomph!” Suddenly the deputy is there and he yanks Mr. Gregory offa me.
“Martin!” Deputy Louis screams. But Mr. Gregory is still trying to pound on me, saying something about pervert and how he is going to kill me. “Martin!” he screams again. “Martin, look at him!” And finally, Mr. Gregory drops his fists and looks at me, really looks at me and then at Petra.
Mr. Gregory looks down to where Petra is lying and he bends down. I can see him check to see if she is breathing. Mr. Gregory starts crying then. And I think I never saw a man cry before, really cry. I stand up and try to see what he is seeing. And my second thought is, she’s died. I let her die. I
was supposed to take care of her until help came and she died. So then I start crying.
“Thank God, thank God,” I think I hear Mr. Gregory whispering over and over and I try to stop my blubbering to listen more closely to him. “Thank you, God,” Mr. Gregory says even louder.
“Is she okay?” I ask him, trying not to sound like a little kid, but my voice sounds all squeaky, so that it’s pretty clear that’s all I am.
“Ben, what happened?” Deputy Louis asks me. “Are you all right? Who did this to you?” And I know just then that at least the deputy doesn’t think I hurt anybody.
“My dad,” I whimper, giving in to the mess of it all. “My dad did it,” I cry. And in an instant, Deputy Louis has his arms around my shoulder, telling me that it’s gonna be okay. But how could it be?
“Petra needs a doctor, right now,” Martin says. “We need to get help up here right now.”
Deputy Louis gets on his walkie-talkie and says a few numbers that I take to be secret police codes and then I thump right back down on my butt, because all the fight has gone outta me and I can’t do one more thing. My legs feel like rubber, my face hurts and I figure Mr. Gregory broke something in me when he tackled me.
“A helicopter is coming in from Iowa City, but we need to get Petra to the nearest clearing, which is at the bottom where we came up from, Martin,” Deputy Louis tells him.
“I don’t think we should move her,” Martin says worriedly. “How are we going to get her down the bluff?”
“An EMT crew is coming up with the officers. They can
check her out and recommend how this should be done.” Deputy Louis looks at his watch. “It will be dark any time now. We need to move fast.”
I look up to the sky and can see the pink and orange colors that come out right before the sun sets.
“I think she needs medical care as quickly as possible. Please,” Mr. Gregory implores, “we need to get her help now.” Mr. Gregory is not looking at me. I’m not sure if he feels bad about knocking me down or if he still isn’t sure what part I had in all this.
Now we can hear the low rumble of engines. The four-wheelers are almost to us. They come one by one to the top of the bluff. Two people, a man and a woman who I think must be the paramedics, hop off and rush over to Petra and immediately check her over. I scoot over to the far side of where the action is, trying to stay out of the way. Deputy Louis is busy talking to a group of police officers and to Ranger Phelps, who has come up on horseback. I sit back and just watch for a while and try to keep my eyes open, but keep dozing off.
I open my eyes and I can hear the
chop, chop
of a helicopter coming closer. It is night now. I can see stars, sharp little pinpricks of light above me, and I feel cold even though everyone else looks like they are sweating. Everyone is fussing around Petra, and everyone seems to have forgotten about me. I’m not the one hurt real bad, but I feel lonely sitting in my own little corner of the woods, with everyone hustling to make sure Petra is okay. I wonder about Calli. She musta got down the bluff and got help. I wonder where she is now and I look around for someone who doesn’t look too busy for me
to ask. But they are all running around, so I just wait and watch. Watching Petra being strapped to that stretcher and dangling from the helicopter down the bluff is just about the scariest sight ever. The helicopter looks like a big old bird and Petra looks like something clutched in its talons. But I saw a lot of scary things today. I can’t see Mr. Gregory, but I imagine it is all he can do to not jump up and try to drag that stretcher right on back to solid ground.
We all watch as the helicopter takes her on down the bluff. She’ll only be in the air for a minute, then they will put her in the helicopter and carry her off to Iowa City. I wonder how we will get down the bluff.
I insist that I go in the ambulance with Calli. I am not going to let her out of my sight again. I have mixed feelings leaving Ben behind, but I know that Louis will bring him to me safely. Poor Ben, he is always the one left to fend for himself, it seems. I feel a flash of anger at Griff for always leaving me in this position, the one to parent all on my own; he is never there when I need him.
Calli immediately falls asleep when she is laid in the ambulance, despite the paramedics poking at her, taking her pulse and blood pressure. One of the paramedics, a kind-looking older woman, gives me a reassuring smile.
“She’ll be okay,” she tells me. “All her injuries appear to be superficial, but they will give her a thorough examination at the hospital and get her cleaned up. We need to give her an IV, she’s showing signs of dehydration.” I watch as the paramedic swipes Calli’s arm with alcohol and expertly inserts the IV, Calli
barely stirs at the procedure. I give a sigh of relief and the woman looks at me questioningly. “What happened up there?”
“I’m not sure. Something very bad,” I tell her and I look down at my Calli, knowing that right now, at least, she is the only one who can tell me exactly what happened up on Hobo Hollow. I wonder if she will speak again or if she will go back to her silence. “Can you go any faster?” I ask the paramedic. She shakes her head no.
“We don’t put on the lights unless it’s a life or death emergency,” she says apologetically.
“My son is still up there. The sooner I get Calli taken care of, the sooner I can get back out to the forest and find out what’s happening with Ben.”
“Is their father in the picture?” she asks, and I listen closely to her voice, searching for any judgmental undertones. I don’t hear any.
“He is, but he’s away on a fishing trip. I can’t get a hold of him,” I explain.
“Oh, that’s too bad.” She resumes attending to Calli. “How old is your boy?”
“He’s twelve,” I respond, inching closer to Calli.
“People are up there looking for him?”
I nod. “And another little girl. What would you do?” I ask this kind woman who is taking an interest in me.
“You have any family here in town?”
“No, it’s just the four of us.”
“Friends you can call?”
“No,” I whisper, and once again loneliness presses in around me and for the first time I am truly aware of the isolation I have found in my own hometown.
“My name is Rose Callahan. I’m off at ten,” she tells me. “Once the doctors and nurses get Calli checked over and settled in, I’d be glad to sit with her. I’m sure they will keep her over for observation. She may be pretty dehydrated after being up in the woods all day. You see how when I pinch the back of Calli’s hand, the skin doesn’t immediately lay flat again? That’s called skin turgor, a sign of dehydration. It’s easily remedied, but we need to keep a close eye on her. I really would be glad to sit with her if you need to be somewhere else.”
I hesitate and do not respond to her offer.
“Everyone at the hospital knows me. I have three grandkids of my own, but they live out west.”
“I don’t know,” I begin.
“If you need me, you call me. I’ll give you my phone number. And please call me. I don’t have anyone here in town anymore, either. Are you from Willow Creek?”
“I was born and grew up here.” We pull into the ambulance unloading area; Rose jots her number down on a scrap of paper and hands it to me.
“You call me, understand? If you need anything, you call me.”
“I will, thank you,” I tell her as some attendants come, gently lift Calli from the ambulance and wheel her into the hospital emergency room as Rose and her partner fill them in on Calli’s situation.
“This is Toni Clark, Calli’s mother,” Rose informs them.
“Please come with me, Ms. Clark,” a male nurse instructs me and I follow him into an examination room. I turn back to wave at Rose, but she is already gone. “Tell me what happened here with Calli,” he asks.
“I’m not really sure what happened. She wasn’t in her bed
this morning, and we couldn’t find her. Another little girl, Petra Gregory, is still on the bluff. The police have been looking for them all day. She came running down from the woods, like…this,” I say, indicating her scratched legs and bleeding feet, her dirty nightgown.
“Was she able to tell you what happened?”
“No.” I shake my head. “But she said her brother’s name,
‘Ben.’
He’s still up there.”
The nurse looks confused. “Both your children were missing?”
“No, just Calli and her friend, not Ben. He went looking for them. Calli came out, Ben didn’t. Not yet.” I am so tired; the entire story makes little sense even to me. “The police are up there looking for them.”
“I’m sure a police officer will be here shortly,” the nurse assures me. “He or she will most likely question Calli about what she remembers about today. We will get her checked out and cleaned up before that happens.”
“All right, thank you,” I tell him.
“Dr. Higby will be right in.” The nurse leaves me in the brightly lit examination room, alone with Calli, and I try to brush her matted hair away from her forehead.
Calli tries to curl herself up into a tight little ball, but this is difficult as the examination table is narrow. She shoves a grimy thumb into her mouth and every few moments her eyelids flutter, as if trying to open, but they remain closed. I hear the door open behind me and in steps a man, the doctor, I assume, as he is wearing a white lab coat. He is completely bald, his head gleaming underneath the fluorescent lights. He wears glasses with red frames and a tie decorated with smiley faces.
“I’m Dr. Higby,” he introduces himself. He holds his hand out to me and I shake it. He has a powerful grip and I am struck by how much his hand looks like Griff’s, strong and coarse from manual labor. “Tell me about who we have here,” he says, looking down at Calli who is trying to warm herself by pulling the sheet that covers her more tightly about her.
“This is Calli Clark. I’m Toni, her mother. She’s been out lost in the woods all day. I don’t know what happened to her.”
“Was she found like this?”
“She came out of the woods on her own, but she was exhausted. She fell asleep the moment she was off her feet.”
Dr. Higby refers to the notes in a chart he holds. “Her vital signs look strong. Let’s check her over and see what we have here. We’re going to have to wake her up, Mrs. Clark,” he says apologetically. “Having her awake and able to tell us where it hurts will help us treat her. Would you like to be the one to wake her? She would probably find it frightening to wake up to this scary mug of mine.” He smiles at me.
“Calli, honey.” I go to her side and rub her shoulder. “Calli, I need you to wake up now.” I gently try to pull the sheet from her and her eyes open, instantly awake, her eyes dart around in panic. “It’s okay, Calli, Mom’s here,” I croon. “You’re at the hospital. We need you to wake up so you can let us know where it hurts. This is Dr. Higby. He’s going to help you feel better.”
Dr. Higby steps into Calli’s line of vision and she watches him carefully for a moment, taking in the red glasses and his tie.
“Hello, Calli, I’m Dr. Higby. Just like your mom said, I’m going to check you over to see if you are hurt anywhere. I hear you’ve had a pretty scary day.”
Calli gives no response, but continues to observe the doctor.
“I want you to know, Calli, that you are completely safe here,” Dr. Higby assures her. “Nothing bad is going to happen here. We all are here to help you, okay?” Calli does not answer.
“Dr. Higby, may I speak with you a moment? Calli, we’ll be right out here. You okay?” She nods and Dr. Higby follows me out into the hall.
“Calli doesn’t talk. I mean, she spoke for the first time in four years today. She said her brother’s name. It’s all she said, but that’s huge for us. I’m not sure what to expect now, if she’ll talk all the time now or what.”
“Calli’s a selective mute?” he asks. “There’s no physical reason for her not talking?”
“That’s what we’ve been told. I’d almost given up hope in her ever talking again, but she did today. She said her brother’s name.” I feel a renewed sense of excitement and hope in telling Dr. Higby this.
“It is very good news that Calli spoke. I have a very limited experience with selective mutism, Mrs. Clark, but we have a psychiatrist on staff who may be more informed on the subject. Would you like for me to call her and have her visit with you?”
“Calli isn’t crazy,” I tell him, my initial liking of the man fading quickly.
“No, of course not. I didn’t mean to imply that. Dr. Kelsing is a medical doctor with a wide expertise. She could be very helpful.” Dr. Higby waits patiently for me to mull this over.
“You think she’s good?” I ask. “You think she could help Calli?”
“I implicitly trust her judgment, Mrs. Clark,” he responds.
“All right, then, I’d like to meet her,” I say as I notice two police officers come through the emergency room doors.
“I’ll call her immediately and then we’ll get to work on fixing up Calli.” He pats my arm and goes to contact Dr. Kelsing.
The two officers confer with the emergency room receptionist and make their way over to me as I peek in the examination room to check on Calli. She waggles her fingers at me in a halfhearted wave and I smile at her and hold up a finger to tell her that I’ll be right back. I meet the officers back in the hallway. Their faces are familiar to me, and I recognize them as being several years behind me in school.
“Mrs. Clark?” the taller officer asks. I nod. “I’m Officer Bies and this is Officer Thumser. I think you went to school with my sister, Cheryl.”
I nod distractedly. “Did you find my son?” I ask anxiously.
“Yes, Mrs. Clark. He’s on his way now to be checked out here at the hospital.”
“Is he okay?” I ask, my heart thumping.
“It appears he’s fine, Mrs. Clark. He should be here within the next hour or so. We need to talk to your daughter, ma’am.”
“Did you find Petra? Is Petra okay?”
“I’m sorry, I can’t share any information about Petra Gregory at this time. Mrs. Clark, we really need to see your daughter. She is crucial to this investigation.”
At this moment Dr. Higby reappears. “Hello, Mike, Russ. What can I do for you tonight?” he asks.
“We were just explaining to Mrs. Clark that we need to visit with Calli about what happened to her today.”
“We need to make sure that Calli’s condition is stable before anyone speaks with her. You can understand that.”
“Yes, we understand. How long till you think she can talk to us?”
Dr. Higby and I look at each other and I nod to him, giving him permission to share Calli’s situation.
“Calli’s a reluctant speaker. She may not be able to tell you what you want to know. We have a consultant coming in to help us. We are going to need to proceed very slowly with her.”
The officers’ disappointment is apparent, but they are wise enough to say nothing. “Could you give us a call when you feel she’s ready to see us? It really is important. And, Mrs. Clark, we’ll need to visit with your son after he gets checked out. And you, as well.”
“Me?” I ask. “Why me?”
“Just follow-up questions. We finally located Roger Hogan, your husband’s fishing buddy. Mr. Hogan didn’t offer much, but your husband wasn’t with him. Good luck, Mrs. Clark,” the tall officer tells me. “I’m glad your little girl is back safe and sound.”
I freeze for a moment, trying to process that news. Griff isn’t with Roger? Where is he, then? I don’t allow myself to consider what it means. Dr. Higby and I return to Calli’s side. Calli is wide-awake now, trembling from the cold of the room.
“I know it’s cold in here, Calli,” Dr. Higby says. “We’ll get you all fixed up and nice and cozy soon. We’ll tell you exactly what is going to happen before it happens, okay? That way, if you have any questions, you can ask.”
A young nurse enters the room. She has a cheerful smile and wears pink scrubs. “Hi, Calli, my name is Molly. I’m going to be your nurse while you’re here. I’ll be with you every step of the way.” Calli looks quickly to me and snatches at my hand.
“Don’t worry, honey, your mom can stay with you the whole time,” Molly assures her.
Dr. Higby pats me on the back and excuses himself. “Sometimes the patients feel more comfortable if only females are in the room. I’ll check back in with you soon.” He gives me a sympathetic smile and leaves us.
I bend down to kiss her and for the first time that evening I notice the smell of urine on her. My stomach clenches at the thought of what happened today.
“Now, the first thing we need to do is get you out of that nightgown and into this lovely gown.” Molly carefully removes Calli’s pink nightgown and places it in a plastic bag. Calli loves this nightgown; I often find her wearing it in the middle of the day. I think she likes the way that it swirls around her as she moves. When she doesn’t know that I am watching, I see Calli dancing in her pink nightgown to music that only she can hear. She is graceful and delicate and when she dances she reminds me of the dandelion fluff we catch and then release to make wishes. I always make the same wish on her as she leaps and twirls—
please speak to me, Calli, please speak.
I silently vow to buy Calli the most beautiful nightgown I can find. One that feels like silk next to her skin and flows like water around her as she moves.
“Now, Calli, I’m going to give you an exam. Do you know what an exam is?” Molly asks. Calli gives a slight nod of her head. “Oh, of course you do. How old are you? Sixteen? Seventeen?” Calli smiles, shakes her head and holds up seven fingers.
“Seven?” Molly asks. “I’m shocked. You seem so much older.” Again Calli smiles. I like this Molly right away. “Now, Calli, I’m going to go from the tip-top of your head right down to your little piggy toes and ask you if anything specifically hurts. You just let me know yes or no, okay?” Again Calli nods.
“I can tell you’re going to be a super patient. Okay, let’s get started. First of all, does your hair hurt?” Calli wrinkles her nose and looks at Molly in disbelief. “Well, does it?” she asks again.