Locke 2 (Blackwater Boys #4)

Eight

Kali

Y ou’d think that a boy disappearing with his mom would make big news. Strangely, though, it felt just like any other day. Police said Lenny’s mother had a history of ditching town and moving along. That she usually resurfaced after some time. Her little home was also completely cleared, like she’d moved out, and the neighbours had reported she’d left in a moving van and waved goodbye to them and everything. Whether the police backed this up, I wasn’t sure. I almost needed to hear it for myself.

The whole thing sat like cement in my stomach.

One second, I had a boy named Lenny in my class, and the next, the desk where he sat was empty.

And no one cared.

“Any word on him?” I’d asked Patsy that Monday.

“Admin was told they’d be moving along,” Patsy simply said.

I made a face. “Why weren’t we told?”

“Well, it happened so quickly.”

“That doesn’t strike you as weird?” I pressed.

She paused, looking up from the student assessments she’d been filling. Her eyes narrowed behind her glasses. “A lot of weird things happen, Kari. I’ve been a teacher for a few decades now, and if I had to make noise over every little weird instance that occurred, it would be another full-time job.”

In other words, she didn’t have time for it. Did anyone have time for these disappearing children? The ones nobody thought a second about when they suddenly left under strange circumstances.

Goddammit, I saw him on Friday, and now it was Monday, and he was gone?

It took a lot for me to calm down. Between my gritted teeth, I asked quietly, “So that’s it? We’re never going to hear from Lenny again?”

“I’m not sure what you expect us to do. We have a split classroom. He’s in kindergarten. He doesn’t have to be in a school system for another year—”

“His mother is a drunk, and he could be at risk.”

“His aunt has gone to the police, and that’s for them to decide.” She sighed, pursing her lips. “Kari, this is what comes with the job. I know it’s difficult, and I agree that his mother had issues, but it’s not enough to start making bold accusations.”

“All I’m asking we do is a follow up,” I urged. “Proof that he’s okay.”

“While we are mandatory reporters, we need to provide proof ourselves and follow up on our claims.”

“He was hungry, he always wore the same clothes, and his mother was a drunk—”

“I never saw bruises on that child’s body,” she cut in, sharply, her patience depleted now as she put her pen down and folded her hands together, giving me her full attention. “He always had a lunch box. His shoes fit him, his clothes didn’t have holes in them, and he was verbal when he was asked to speak. There were no behavioural issues documented by either of us over the last six weeks he was in class, and he appeared to play with the boys in the yard at recess. While his mother picked him up late on occasion, she still showed up at the first parent teacher meeting, and she appeared fit enough to hold a steady conversation with every interaction I personally had with her.”

She stole my breath, making me realise she’d been all too aware of him, after all. My eyes were wide as she kept her gaze steady with mine.

“I’m not saying there weren’t problems,” she added now, her tone softening. “But they weren’t big enough in my opinion that they needed to be reported.”

I swallowed my retort. It would just appear like I was fighting for the sake of it now if I kept pushing. She was set in her opinion; Patsy was a stubborn, unmoving woman. Then again, so was I. I clenched my teeth and kept my mouth shut, dropping the issue to her. She was logical, she made sense, and yet…

It still didn’t ease my concerns. Something in my gut continued to stir, the coldness growing sharp as I thought of Lenny sitting there amongst the many loud and smiling children in our classroom, his blank stare directed at nothing.

“He didn’t just leave, Kali,” the little voice whispered from behind me. My eyes watered as I glanced down at my dead little sister, dressed in the usual blue dress she died in. Her big brown eyes looked up at me, and she looked so fucking sad. “Something happened.”

◆◆◆

Patsy was wary of me, especially when I suddenly decided to take every recess duty. After a couple days, though, she moved along. I hadn’t caused a fuss about Lenny, and I’d pretended to complain that I needed to walk off the weight I was packing on, which was utter bullshit. If anything, I was losing weight. Ever since Lenny “left town” on Saturday, I couldn’t stomach anything.

I was going kind of obsessed about Lenny. I visited his home yesterday, if you would even call it that. It looked literally like a hole in the wall of a townhome. There was a lot of debris in the front yard, things like paper waste and random bits of garbage. I hated that it supported Patsy’s claim that Lenny’s mom had hastily left. The talk of the town was that she was behind on rent and facing an eviction.

I did find a bunch of weather beaten Pokémon cards left scattered in the yard. I picked them up, one by one, not believing for a second that a little boy would happily leave behind these cards, especially Charazard, and a Surfing Pikachu.

No kid left behind a surfing fucking Pikachu.

“You looking for Tammy?” A voice drew me to a woman walking the trail to the sad townhouse next door. She was carrying a toddler who was sucking on a lollipop. Behind her was an older boy, and he looked familiar.

Aurora whispered at my side, “He’s one of the boys Lenny plays with at recess.” My spine straightened in surprise.

“Yeah, I thought I might catch her,” I responded with an easy smile.

“Oh, she’s gone,” she said, pulling out her keys. “Packed her things and drove off.”

“Do you know why she left?”

“I think she was getting evicted.” She shrugged, glancing at me. “She was a loud neighbour, so it was sort of a blessing in disguise. Are you family?”

“No.”

“Someone she owes money to then?”

I glanced fleetingly at her older boy again and shook my head, blurting out, “Just someone that works at her son’s school.”

What was his name again? I waited for Aurora to tell me, but she was mute.

The woman looked at me strangely. “So, you know they’re gone then.”

I kept my lie smooth. “I was away last week.”

The less I said the better. Usually people filled in the blanks, but the older boy that I was trying to remember the name of narrowed his eyes at me. Shit . His mother’s brows furrowed. “I didn’t know teachers paid students a house visit.”

My shoulders dropped. Quickly, I replied, “I’m not a teacher. Just a nosey teacher’s aide that cares too much about the kids. The mom in me can’t help it.”

Now her face gentled and she motioned with her head to the son in her arms. “I get it. I’m a mom and I feel it, too.”

“I just want to know he’s okay.”

With conviction, she said, “He is.”

“You’re sure?”

“She left with him,” she said quickly, her eyes eagerly holding my gaze. “I saw him. She was carrying him to the truck. He even waved goodbye.”

I nodded and let out a long, relieved breath. “That’s such a relief, thank you.”

“Yeah.” She looked away. “Anyway, I gotta feed my little guys.”

I nodded again as she disappeared into her home, but her older son looked at me, his eyes clinging to mine. I held his gaze the whole way.

“Dallis,” Aurora suddenly said. “His name’s Dallis.”

The second he was inside, she shut the door.

I eyed her door for a few moments, my instincts telling me to knock on it and demand why she lied. The story was Tammy had left in a moving van, but she said truck. The little mistake seemed too small to make a fuss about, but the way she said it, fast and robotic, felt rehearsed.

My pulse climbed, the urge growing to demand more information, but I forced myself to stand still.

Within a few minutes, a man on a shitty bicycle rode by, his eyes clinging to me. The next minute, a guy across the street parked and stepped out, glancing briefly in my direction. I remembered this feeling. When you’re in a shitty place, you know when someone wasn’t from around there.

“Time to go,” Aurora whispered, her eyes skimming the row of townhomes. “I think these people are looking at you from their windows.”

She was right. Reluctantly, I left straight away, but I wasn’t satisfied.

Not when I had Serfing Pikachu in my pocket, anyway.