Rick Mofina - If Angels Fall

He radiates with the light of one million suns.

His face buried, Zach did not know where they weretraveling. “Is she going to die?” He sniffled from under his arms.

Keller did not answer. They approached the Bay Bridge.

“Mister, is my mom going to die?”

The new van hummed silently, save for the tires — rhythmicallyclicking along the freeway. Keller touched Zach’s shoulder.

Heaven’s warrior.

Keller kept his eyes forward. “What is it like to lookupon the face of God?”

Zach recoiled.

“Serpent slayer, chief of Heaven’s army.”

Zach’s mind gathered speed, his eardrums pounded intime with his beating heart, for suddenly he knew. He knew what happened.

Kidnapped. He had been kidnapped by a psycho.

“You are my light and my salvation.” Keller smiled. “Ipraise you, beloved of God.”

As the van moved west along the upper deck of thespectacular bridge to San Francisco, Keller reached under his seat for theplastic bag and the chloroform-soaked cloth.

Some days, when the mid-afternoon sun hit it just right, the Bay Bridge glowed like a portalto paradise. For an instant, its majestic span and spires changed from flatsilver to a surreal white against the blue-green waters of the Bay a fewhundred feet below.

Today, its beauty was lost on Tom Reed. For him, thebridge had become a tangible span of despair between everything he had donewrong and the futility of his future. It was his third crossing, and with eachtrip, his emotional freight increased, unraveling the worn thread by which hislife was swinging. Reed was rushing east on the lower deck and wondering howmuch more crap a man was supposed to stomach in one day.

His marriage lay in ruin, he was fired from his job,he was an alcoholic, or on his way to becoming one. He had caused the suicideof an innocent man and very nearly accused another. And now Zach pulls a firstand funs away. Nine years old and he takes off.

Could it get any worse?

Sunlight strobed through the bridge’s steel girders.Reed glanced over his left shoulder at San Francisco’s skyline, then at themesmerizing whitecaps below. Why not end it all? He had considered it when hearrived at his room in Sea Park after the blowup with Ann. It was a dumb-assnotion, supplanted by his need to get into his room and reacquaint himself withJack Daniel’s. Lila had not returned. So, he kicked the door. It opened withlittle damage on his second try. He’d pay for that move when Lila got back.

Reed collapsed in the sofa chair, his head pulsating.What was he going to do? Leave town? Chicago? He had some buddies at the Tribune and the Sun-Times . He could beg for a job. He could see Molly tonightafter she finished her shift. She wasn’t the answer and he knew it.

Reed decided to take the care of his immediate needs: shaving, showering, and changing into better-smelling clothes, ignoring theflashing red light of his telephone answering machine until he finished, whichwas half an hour later.

The first call he played back was the most recent one.

“Reed, Walt Sydowski. Give me a call a soon as youcan.” He left his cell phone and pager numbers.

Sydowski? Reed sneered. Likely found out he had beenfired and wanted to relay condolences from the Homicide Detail. Sure, I’ll getback to you, Walt.

Next, came a panicked message from Ann: “Tom, is Zachwith you? I can’t find him! I think he’s — ”

The phone rang. Reed stopped the machine and grabbedthe call.

“Tom, do you have Zach?” Ann was hysterical.

“No, Ann, I don’t. What the hell is going on?”

“I can’t find him! It’s my fault. He ran away. He tookhis school backpack with some of his favorite stuff and his savings, about ahundred dollars. I’m so scared!”

Ran away? He must have heard us. “How long has itbeen?”

“An hour, forty-five minutes, I don’t know.”

“Did you call Jeff and Gordie’s parents?”

“But they’re in San Francisco.”

“That’s likely where he’s headed.”

“I’ll call them!”

“Call all the Berkeley cab companies. Call BART security.He may try to cross the Bay that way.”

“All right. I already called the police. They saidthey put out a description and will send a car over.”

“I’m on my way.”

Now, as Reed guided his Comet along the interstateoff-ramp for Berkeley, he could not stop blaming himself for dragging Ann andZach into the cesspool of the self-obsession which blinded him to the toll itwas taking on Zach. He would talk to Ann, tell her everything. Make one lastintelligent effort to work things out before it was too late. If anything,anything happened to Zach, he’d never forgive himself. He glanced at the waterbelow.

When Reed turned on Fulton, the hairs on the back ofhis neck stood up at the sight of a Berkeley patrol car parked in front ofAnn’s mother’s house.

Ann was sitting at the kitchen table, talking througha crumbled tissue to a uniformed officer who was taking notes.

“Oh Tom!” she sobbed, hugging him tight. Letting himknow that she needed him. Truly needed him. Reed’s eyes stung. When was thelast time he held Ann in his arms?

“Mr. Reed?” the officer asked.

“Yes.”

“Officer Pender, Jim Pender, Berkeley PD. We’vealready got a description of your son out to radio cars. I’d like to talk toyou.”

“Certainly.”

“Alone, please, sir.”

Pender was a tall, black officer, at least six-four.He had a cropped goatee and exuded calm capability. His utility belt andholster gave leathery squeaks when he stood, his polished badge over his heartgleamed. The shoulder mike of his radio crackled, and Pender turned it down asthe two men talked in the living room.

“Tell me what you think happened, sir.” Pender saidsoftly.

Reed told him everything. The officer’s eyebrows shotup when he told him he was the reporter behind the Tanita Marie Donnercontroversy and had been fired that morning. When Reed finished, Pender said,“Okay, there’s stress in your household. Zach overhears his parents arguing anddecides to head out on his own. To his friends in San Francisco, you figure?”

Reed nodded. “Or my place in San Francisco.”

“Okay, we’ll add this new info to the alert we’vealready got out on your son. We’ll notify SFPD and campus police.” Penderchecked his notes as they returned to the kitchen where Ann sat, face buried inher hands.

“Mrs. Reed, we’ll do everything we can to find Zach,”Pender said. “I’ll ask you both again to try and put yourself in his shoes. Isthere any material thing he wanted, a type of toy or something? Or any place hewanted to go, an arcade, a certain movie? Or any individual he would turn to?Give it some thought that way.”

The Reeds agreed.

“Most kids who run away mad at Mom and Dad turn upwithin a few hours, especially the young ones,” Pender said.

Ann tried to smile, but swallowed it. “At least thepolice shot the kidnapper yesterday in San Francisco,” she said.

Pender nodded, but Reed caught something in his face.

“If the family is going to look for Zach, please keepsomeone here in case he returns or more information surfaces. I’m going to callthis in. Then I’d like to search the house. Sometimes kids will crawl into ahiding spot to cool off for a while.”

“Thank you, officer.”

“Ann.” Reed took his wife’s hand. “I’m going to searchthe area between here and the BART station. I’ll call you every few minutes.”

“Yes.” Her voice was barely audible.

“We’ll find him, Ann, I swear. ” Reed hugged her, thencaught up with Pender outside. He was in his cruiser entering his notes intohis mobile computer terminal.