William Bernhardt - Midnight Before Christmas

“Bonnie, listen to me. I know how frightened you are. But the fact is, we’ve cruised every parking lot we could think of-”

“Don’t you understand? He’s insane! He’s going to try to kill my Tommy! We have to hurry!”

“Bonnie, listen! There’s no point in hurrying unless we have somewhere to hurry to!”

Bonnie fell silent. Megan seized the opportunity.

“We’ve tried every mall. We didn’t find him. Even if he was at one, he would’ve left by now. We have to come up with a new plan. Can you think of anywhere else they might go?”

Bonnie shrugged. Megan could see she was trying to regain control, trying to put her brain back in order. “I don’t know where he lives now.”

“And neither do the police. What else?”

“He has a cellular phone he carries. He gave me the number.”

“And you called it. No answer. What else?”

Bonnie shrugged helplessly. “I–I don’t know …”

Megan glanced at her watch. “It’s about lunch-time. Is there someplace special they might go for lunch?”

Bonnie’s eyes darted around the small car, as if the answers might be written somewhere on the upholstery. “I don’t know.”

“Think, Bonnie. Think. Does Tommy have a favorite place?”

Bonnie continued shaking her head.

“McDonald’s? Burger King? Split-T?”

“No, he doesn’t like any of-” She froze abruptly. “Oh, my-it’s Christmas Eve! I didn’t even think.”

“What? What is it?”

“Christmas Eve. It’s a special day.”

“Right. Major holiday. Santa Claus and ho-ho-ho.”

Bonnie shook her head. “More than that. It’s our wedding anniversary. We were married on Christmas Eve. Nine years ago today. No wonder he’s flown off his rocker. He must’ve remembered.”

“You were married on Christmas Eve?”

“Right here in OKC.” She snapped her fingers. “And after the ceremony, we ate at The Snow Pea.”

Megan did a double take. “The Chinese place?”

“Right. The one on Western. I know it seems crazy, but I just wonder if-”

She didn’t even have to finish the sentence. Megan had already thrown the transmission into Drive. The car lurched forward as she began weaving her way out of the overcrowded parking lot.

Now at last they had someplace they could go in a hurry.

“Tommy, I want you to eat your food.”

Tommy folded his arms across his chest. “I’m not hungry.”

“Just a few bites, then. For me.”

Tommy looked away, sullen-faced. “Mommy says I shouldn’t eat when I’m not hungry. She says it starts a bad habit.”

“That’s what this is all about, isn’t it? Your mother. She always comes between us.”

“She just doesn’t want me to get fat. Like this kid in my class, Jerry Douglas. He’s a real tub, and-”

“She can’t even allow me one little bit of pleasure, can she? Can’t give me one last moment of peace with my son.”

Tommy didn’t answer.

Carl leaned across the table. “Listen to me, Tommy. I’m your father. I held you in my arms when you were just a baby. I was there the day you were born. I’m your friend.”

“Does Mommy know where I am?”

The question caught Carl by surprise. “She … knows you’re with me. I’m sure of that.”

“Does she know where I am?”

“Well … in general. She may not know precisely-”

“Are you kidnapping me?”

Pound, pound, pound. The kid kept pounding him with questions. He was almost as bad as his mother. Was there no escaping them? “Tommy, what are you saying? You’re my son.”

“Fathers kidnap their sons sometimes. I read about it in the Weekly Reader. Is that what you’re doing?”

Carl pressed his hands against the table. “All I’m doing right now is having a nice Christmas Eve lunch with my son. The only problem is, you’re not eating!”

Tommy sank back in his chair.

“So eat already, would you? It’s important!”

“Why?”

“It-” He checked himself. “It just is, all right? So eat.”

“I’m not hungry.”

Carl swelled with rage. He reached across the table, grabbed Tommy’s spoon, and shoveled up a heaping spoonful of chicken with peanuts. “I’m your father, Tommy. You’re supposed to do what I say. Do you understand me? So you will eat your dinner.” His eyes twitched. “If it’s the last thing you do.”

“Eat!” Carl shouted. “Eat!”

Tommy pushed his plate away. “I don’t want to. You can’t make me!”

“You’re my son!” Carl glanced around the room. They were beginning to attract the attention of the handful of other patrons, as well as the Asian woman behind the cash register. “Do as you’re told!”

“I’m not going to!”

“Don’t be a bad boy, Tommy!” He grabbed Tommy by the neck and jerked him forward, pressing the spoon against his lips. “Eat!”

“Don’t do it, Tommy!”

Carl’s head jerked up. God in heaven-it was Bonnie! Bonnie and some other woman he didn’t know. Somehow they’d managed to find him.

He dropped the spoon. It clattered to the floor as he leapt out of his chair.

“Someone please help!” Bonnie cried. “Someone arrest him! Call the police! They’re looking for him!”

“Bonnie-baby-”

“Grab the food!” Bonnie lurched forward and pushed the plate away from Tommy. “Tommy, did you eat any of it? Did you eat anything?”

“No, Mommy. I-”

“Oh, thank God.” She threw her arms around him and hugged him close against her chest. “Did someone call the police?”

Carl saw that the woman behind the register was talking quietly into the phone. “Bonnie, you can’t do this. I was just having lunch with my son. It’s Christmas Eve!”

“You sick creep, you were trying to kill him. Would someone please arrest him!”

Carl pushed away from the table and grabbed Tommy by the shirt. “I’m taking the boy with me.”

“Like hell,” Bonnie answered.

“You can’t stop me,” he growled.

“What are you going to do? Beat me up again? Fracture my collarbone?”

Carl’s face twisted. “What? Bonnie, it doesn’t have to be like this!” He saw one of the other diners, a large heavyset man in his early thirties, inching forward. He knew he had to move quickly or he would encounter some serious resistance. “This isn’t over, Bonnie. Not by a long shot.” He turned quickly and fled out the front door.

Megan tried to stop Carl as he rushed past, but he knocked her out of the way without even breaking his stride. She pushed herself back to her feet, but by the time she had raced outside, Carl was speeding away in his red pickup. She did manage to get the license-plate number, though: XAU-208. She scribbled it down on a scrap of paper, then ran back inside the restaurant.

“Did someone call the-” She stopped. Bonnie was cradling her son in her arms, pressing him against her chest.

“Oh, God,” she kept murmuring under her breath. “Oh, thank you, God.”

A nod from the woman behind the counter told Megan the police were on their way. She plopped herself into the nearest chair, suddenly exhausted. She leaned forward and laid her head on the table.

She would have to pull herself together before the police arrived. Someone had to bring them up-to-date, and she could hardly expect Bonnie to do it. The police had to understand what was happening. Even if Carl was an ex-cop, they had to try to find the man. Before he returned.

She was glad they’d found Tommy before it was too late. But her elation hadn’t made her forget what Carl had said before he bolted out the door.

This isn’t over, Bonnie, he said.

And as Megan stared into the man’s steely eyes, she knew he meant it. She knew this wasn’t over.