David Bell - The Hiding Place

“Why are you smiling?” Stynes asked.

“Michael.”

“What about him?”

“I cried for him. Not for Justin.”

“What do you mean?”

“I cried because I wanted to see Michael and play with him. I guess my parents didn’t think I needed to be playing or goofing around, you know? I don’t know if that was the first day or later. But somehow Michael ended up coming over to our house and we played together.”

“He was here that night. I remember that.”

“It must have been then. I just remembered that,” she said. “I hadn’t thought of that for a while.” She shook her head a little. “But that’s about it.”

“I heard he’s back in town.”

“Michael?”

“Yes.”

“He is.”

“Have you seen him?” Stynes asked.

“A few times. Why? Do you want to talk to him?”

“It doesn’t matter,” Stynes said. “But if you think of anything else about that day or that time-anything at all-you let me know.”

“It’s funny, Detective,” she said. “I always told myself when I was growing up and then when I left home that I wouldn’t be defined by that day in the park. I saw what it did to my mother, and to a lesser extent my father.”

“Why a lesser extent for him?” Stynes asked.

“He’s a man, I guess. He’s always kept things inside and been hard to reach. But my mother was very open and loving until Justin died. She lost something then, some spark of life.” Janet sighed. “Anyway, I said I wasn’t going to be like them, looking backward all the time. I had a daughter to raise, and I sure as hell wasn’t going to let her get dragged into all of this.”

“Sounds like a good idea,” Stynes said.

“And if it’s such a good idea,” Janet said, “why are we all standing in the same place, in the same town, at the same house, still talking about that day twenty-five years later?”

Despite Kevin’s long legs and height advantage, he struggled to keep up with Ashleigh on the way to the Manning house. She no longer felt the aftereffects of the run from the apartment building. Quite the opposite. Both her body and her mind felt renewed in some way, as if energy were shooting through her and lighting up the cells and circuits of her body.

Had she done it? Had she found her uncle?

Could she make everything okay for her family again?

They didn’t speak much on the way. Ashleigh kept her eyes focused on the walk ahead, imagining as they went along the look on her mother’s face when she told her about the man. Even her grandfather, a man who showed no emotion about anything-not even his own dead son-might lose control of himself and be forced to admit that something more than extraordinary had happened.

“Hey,” Kevin said.

Ashleigh kept walking.

“Ash? Hey.”

“What?” she said, stopping.

“Are you sure you want me to go with you?” he asked.

“What?”

“Me,” he said. “Should I tag along here? Your grandpa isn’t exactly a fan of mine, and if he’s been asking if we’re dating-”

“Just come,” she said, starting to walk again. “What do you mean, he’s not a fan of yours?”

“I don’t want him getting pissed at me, you know? Just because you and I have been hanging out.”

“He won’t care.” Ashleigh slowed down and looked at Kevin. “We’re about to tell him his son is still alive. Don’t you think that trumps everything else?”

Kevin nodded, although he didn’t look entirely certain.

Ashleigh tugged on his arm. “Come on.”

Ashleigh’s mind continued to race. Would they all jump in the car and drive to the man’s apartment? No, they couldn’t do that. He was gone. Plus, the creepy manager would be there. Ashleigh decided not to tell her mom about that part of the story. She didn’t want the two things mixed up-the discovery of her uncle’s whereabouts and the pervert groping her. No, they wouldn’t drive right over there. But they’d have to do something, right? Celebrate or something?

What on earth did people do when something like that happened?

Did stuff like that ever happen to anyone else on earth?

Ashleigh saw the house ahead, and slowed her pace a little. She started to reimagine the scenario of telling them, and wondered what would transpire as the weeks passed. What if they did meet the man, and he really was her uncle? What would happen then? Would he move into the house with them? Would he come over for Thanksgiving and Christmas?

Was he even right in the head, wandering around in the middle of the night, knocking on doors and not identifying himself?

“What’s wrong?” Kevin asked.

“Just thinking.”

“They’ll probably just call the police and let them handle it,” he said. “It’ll be okay.”

How did he do that? How did he always read her mind that way?

“Okay,” she said. “Okay.”

They drew closer to her grandfather’s house. Her mom was on the porch, and Kevin said, “Who’s that dude?”

“Where?”

“The one going to his car.”

Ashleigh saw who Kevin was talking about. “It’s Detective Stynes,” she said. “You know?”

“The one who investigated your uncle’s murder?”

“What’s he doing here?” Ashleigh asked. “Do you think he knows about the guy? Do you think they found him?”

“Maybe he came back here,” Kevin said. “Your uncle or whoever he is. Maybe they all know everything.”

But Ashleigh got the feeling that wasn’t the case. Her mom saw her and came down off the porch, a worried look on her face. She looked back and forth between Kevin and Ashleigh, waiting for an explanation.

“What happened?” she said. “I can tell something’s wrong.”

Ashleigh opened her mouth to speak, but then-

Everything caught up to her. The fight with Kevin, the groping by the manager.

The letter with her uncle’s name on it.

And everything else-the weeks of looking for the man. The years of her mom’s unhappiness over her brother’s death.

It was all there-inside Ashleigh’s throat. A giant ball of emotion.

She started to cry.

But Ashleigh didn’t just cry. She heaved, a great outpouring of tears and giant breaths that seemed to come from the deepest center of her being and jolted her entire body with convulsions. Through the scrim of tears, she saw her mother’s face, even more concerned. Scared, even. Her mother looked at Kevin, seeking an explanation.

“What’s wrong?” she kept saying. “What happened?”

Kevin wouldn’t say anything. She knew he wouldn’t. This was her news to share, her prize to bring home. He put his hand on her back and rubbed it gently.

“Ash, it’s okay,” he said. “Tell her. Just tell her.”

“Tell me what?”

And then Ashleigh saw the cop coming over from his car. He must have seen the show she was putting on and decided he couldn’t just walk away from a citizen in distress. But the sobs kept coming, so she tried to talk through them.

“I’m…okay…”

Her mom placed her hands on Ashleigh’s upper arms. “Tell me, honey.”

“I’m okay…It’s…I found…”

“You found?”

She lost control for a minute, then managed some deep breaths, which slowed the pace of her crying. She looked around, saw everyone’s eyes on her, even the cop’s.

“Justin,” Ashleigh said.

“What?” her mom said.

“Justin,” Kevin said. “That’s what she’s talking about.”

“Justin?” her mom said. “What about Justin? Honey, what about Justin?”

Ashleigh swallowed again, another deep breath.

“I found him, Mom. I found Uncle Justin.”