William Lashner - Falls The Shadow

“I just gave Randy a lift to work, Julia. And I only did it because I wanted to find the truth, and we weren’t getting it from you. But I was impressed with him all the same. He gets up every day, goes to work, works hard. I admire the hell out of that. I agree with you, the best thing for Daniel would be to have a father in the household.”

“Okay,” she said.

But it wasn’t okay, that we were there, that she had to answer to us, none of it was okay, and her sullen disposition let us know it clearly. She sat on the unmade bed, holding Daniel like a baby. Daniel looked up at me with big red eyes.

We had knocked on her door unannounced. That had been my clever idea, the only way, I assumed, we could be sure that Julia wouldn’t bolt before we arrived, the only way we could check out Daniel’s living conditions. We had entered the apartment like G-men, sniffing around, scanning it for evidence of a crime, and now we were standing there, in our suits, standing because there was no place to sit, standing as emissaries from a system that had somehow already failed this woman and her child. When first we showed, it had felt like we were being proactive, but now the unannounced visit felt presumptuous and creepy. Yes, I represented the little boy, yes, Isabel was just trying to be sure the child was cared for properly, yes, all of this was sanctioned by the court. But still I had to wonder what the hell I, a man who had no children, no experience working with children, who, to be honest, didn’t even like the little smackers, what the hell I was doing here, judging the fitness of this hole they lived in, which was the most Julia could afford, judging her fitness to be a parent, when it seemed she actually was trying to do her best.

“How are the parenting classes going?” said Isabel.

“Good. Really good. I’m learning a lot.”

“You missed Tuesday.”

“Daniel had a fever.”

“How is he today?” Isabel stepped over to my client and put her hand on his forehead. “He feels all right. Did you take him to a doctor?”

“No. It was just a fever.”

“How do you feel, Daniel?” said Isabel.

Daniel didn’t answer, he just tucked his head into his mother’s shoulder.

“Has he been crying much?” said Isabel.

“Some,” said Julia. “He’s been having trouble sleeping.”

“Does Daniel sleep in there?” said Isabel, indicating the crib.

“Yes, or in our bed if he’s crying.”

“With you and Randy?” I said.

“With me,” said Julia, sticking out her chin.

“He might have an ear infection,” said Isabel. “You need to get that checked out, Julia. You have to take him to the doctor.”

“There’s a copay at the clinic.”

“Did you enroll him in the program I told you about?”

“Not yet.”

“I brought some of the paperwork. We can fill out most of it today. But it has to get finished, Julia. These are things you have to do to properly take care of your son.”

“I have an idea,” I said. Daniel picked his head up and stared at me. I tried to put some false excitement in my voice. “While you guys go over the paperwork and get all the documents filled out, why don’t I take Daniel over to the park?”

Julia looked down at her son, Daniel buried his head in her shoulder.

“Sure,” said Julia, pushing him away. “That would be a big help.”

It was just two blocks down from the apartment, a beat city park, surrounded by a metal fence. Black blistered rubber was set beneath a rusted jungle gym and a dented slide. Empty beer cans were strewn about the cement benches that surrounded the play equipment, a balled-up McDonald’s bag, shards of green glass. It was desolate and ugly, but still, when Daniel approached it, after a slow silent trudge beside me, he couldn’t help himself from breaking into a trot and then a run.

He jumped onto the rubber strap that served as a seat on the swing set. He grabbed the chains and said, “Push.”

I pushed lightly.

“Harder,” he said.

I pushed only a little bit harder, unsure of the government-approved safe pushing speeds for four-year-olds on rickety swing sets.

“Harder,” he ordered.

I complied, and as he reached the pinnacle of his flight, he let out a squeal that told me I was doing it right.

After the swing he clambered over the jungle gym and slid down the slide and rode the bouncy woodpecker. I sat on one of the benches and watched. He went from apparatus to apparatus with a great seriousness, never smiling, giving me the eye now and then but continuing on his rounds, purposely avoiding me.

Eventually he tired and sat down on a different bench, his legs dangling, his Velcro sneakers swinging. I stood, ambled over, sat beside him. He slid away a bit but stayed on the bench.

“How’s it going, Daniel?” I said.

He shrugged.

“Do you remember who I am? My name is Victor. I’m the lawyer. I’m here to help you. Do you remember that?”

“Mommy says I don’t need no help.”

“Any help, and I hope she’s right. You were great on that jungle gym. You were like Tarzan out there.”

“Who’s Tarzan?”

“The king of the jungle gym. You don’t know Tarzan?”

He shook his head.

“He was a kid, really a baby, that was flying in a plane with his parents. They were flying over the jungle when the plane went down, bang. Everyone was lost but the baby, alone in the jungle. Luckily for the baby, it was found by a family of apes, and the apes decided to take care of this little baby. So they fed him and cared for him, and the boy grew up playing with all the animals and swinging on vines. They called him the king of the jungle.”

“That sounds like fun, swinging on vines.”

“Yeah,” I said.

“What’s a vine?”

“Like a rope with leaves. I met Randy. Remember we talked about him before?”

Daniel nodded.

“You still like him?”

He shrugged.

“He doesn’t hurt you, does he?”

He shook his head and then said, “What happened to the mommy and daddy in the plane?”

“Tarzan’s mommy and daddy?”

He nodded.

“They died,” I said.

“Oh.”

“What happened to your father?”

“He’s gone.”

“Did he die, too?”

“No. Mommy says he’s someplace called New Jersey. Is there a jungle there?”

“Sure,” I said. “Newark. So it’s just you and Mommy and sometimes Randy in your family, right?”

“And Tanya.”

“Who is Tanya, Daniel?”

“My sister.”

“Is she older or younger than you?”

“Older. And nice. And really pretty. She took care of me all the time, and we watched TV together.”

“But not anymore?”

“No.”

“Where’s Tanya now?”

“I don’t know.”

“Where did she go?”

“Someplace. I don’t know.”

“Why did she go someplace?”

“I don’t know.”

“Do you miss her?”

“A lot.”

“When did she leave?”

“After Randy came.”

“Okay.”

“He didn’t like her.”

“Do you know why?”

“Because she was Tanya.”

“Okay.”

“Can you find her for me?”

“Is that what you want me to do, Daniel?”

He nodded.

“How are your teeth doing?” I said.

He didn’t answer, instead he pulled his mouth over his teeth so that his lips disappeared.

“Do you know what a dentist is?”

He shook his head.

“A dentist is a doctor who takes care of teeth. I found one to take care of yours. You get to sit in a chair, and there’s this light and nice music, and the doctor looks in your mouth and fixes things. He said he could fix your teeth so you wouldn’t have to hide them all the time.”