The girl in the park

The roar of an electric guitar playing the opening chords of AC/DC’s Highway to Hell filled the room, giving Elías a good scare and forcing him to lift his eyes from his notebook. He was going over the last pages of the exam topic for the third time, seated at the dining table.

“Hello?… Ah, hi, Dad… Yeah, I’m almost ready for my exam… No, she is not here yet. She should get here at 2, right?… No, I can’t wait for her. I’ll be late for the test… Yes, sir, I understand…”

He hung up and tried to focus on his notes again, but his mind raced, calculating times and routes. If he had more money, he could take a taxi, but he had almost nothing left of the weekly budget his father had left them before going on his trip.

Outside, everything was silent, and the wind began to blow through the cracks in the window. The light coming in was snuffed out behind dark clouds that threatened with another storm, leaving him in darkness. Elías got up to switch on the floor lamp, bathing the dining room in a yellowish glow.

While he was trying to focus, the sound of the radio echoed from the kitchen. It was a habit his sister had picked up since Mrs. Lurdes, the woman who helped at home, taught her how to tune it.

“Seriously? Who listens to the radio these days?” he complained as he headed to the kitchen to make some coffee.

The announcer’s voice was deep and grave.

“…They’ve been missing for ten days now. The police questioned all the family members, friends, and neighbors, and although they claim to have made progress in the case, they seem to have no concrete lead. This is the third disappearance in less than forty days. A group of angry parents, worried about their children’s safety, protested today outside Police District Number Four. If you have any information that could help, please contact 2 72…”

(Click)

“Abi, you shouldn’t listen to this stuff. It’s not good for pretty little girls like you,” he said as he ruffled his sister’s hair and set the radio on top of the fridge, out of her reach.

“Eli! Put it down! I was listening to that!” Abigail protested.

“I told you it’s not good for you. Besides, you didn’t say please. And my name is Elías! Not Eli. I’m not a silly little girl like you.”

“You’re the worst brother in the world,” she sulked, folding her arms.

“And you’re the most annoying girl in the universe. Now be quiet, I have to study.” He went back to the dining room as the water boiled.

Heavy raindrops began pounding on the glass. He checked his watch; if he didn’t leave soon, he’d be late for his test. “Perfect, now it’s raining again. Well, I’ve read it twice already. I don’t think the whole exam will come out of the last pages.”

He gathered his books, put them in his backpack, ran to brush his teeth, and headed down the stairs as he pulled on his jacket. A sharp whistle was sounding from the kitchen above the music on Abigail’s radio.

“Damn! I almost forgot the kettle.” He made his coffee in a haste, poured it into a flask, put it in his backpack, slung it over his shoulder, and ran for the front door.

“Abigail, get over here, quick!”

“I’m coming!”

“But hurry, I’m running late!” He felt a sharp pang of guilt for disobeying his father, but he had no choice if he wanted to keep his grades up. After all, it wasn’t the first time, and Abi knew exactly what to tell Mrs. Lurdes and their dad if either of them asked why she was alone at home.

“I’m here already, drama king,” she mocked. ”You have at least an hour to get there. What do you want?”

“I’m leaving now. You’ll be alone. What do you have to do as soon as I step out that door?”

“Lock it up tight and don’t open it for anyone.”

“And if someone knocks?”

“I don’t open it. Dad’s traveling, and you won’t be back until later, and you both have keys. Mrs. Lurdes has a key too, and she’ll get here at two,” she recited her worn-out speech from memory, without interest.

“Very good, I’m off. Take care.”

He stepped out and smiled at the sound of the bolt sliding shut behind him.

He’d gone down only two steps when he stopped cold.

“I didn’t hand her the radio before I left,” he said to himself. “How the hell was the brat listening to her music?”

A patrol car crawled past with its siren on, ripping that thought from his head.

“Neighbors, we remind you to secure your homes at all times. There must be no children without adult supervision on the streets. We repeat, please do not allow your children to go out without an adult. Let’s all look out for each other!”

He saw two officers, two houses up, questioning the owner, Mrs. Pedregal. They were surely showing her the photos of the missing children and asking the same questions they’d asked him and his dad two nights ago.

“Have you seen these children around here?… Where were you on the night of July 3rd? And June 17th? And May 30th?… Do you know the Fernández family? And the Rochas? The Jaén?… Did you see them having problems with any neighbor? And the Rochas? And the Jaéns?…”

“They really don’t have any leads,” he thought out loud as the police recording started over and the patrol car drove away. He followed it with his eyes until it turned the corner, going around the plaza.

He checked his watch and sprinted toward the bus stop. He turned the corner in the same direction the patrol had gone and almost crashed head-on into Inés Rodríguez and her mother. “What a reckless boy! Where are you barreling off to like that? Watch where you’re going!”

“Sorry, I’m late for class. I’m really sorry.” He kept going without listening to the rest of Inés’s mom’s complaints, but he didn’t get far. A tree got in his way and knocked him to the ground.

“That’s what you get for taking off like a madman. Watch yourself, boy!” said the woman, raising his nose to the sky and leaving him behind.

Inés looked at him and gave him a brief smile. But if it was in solidarity or mockery, he’d never know.

“Hurry, Inés, stop daydreaming. Didn’t you hear children shouldn’t be left alone on the street? The police will kill me if they see I left you unattended.”

“I’m not a child, Mom. Next year I start high school,” replied the girl, annoyed.

“Doesn’t matter, dear. I don’t want anyone thinking I’m an irresponsible mother, like the one of that girl over there in the park. Did you see her? So dirty, with no one nearby. I don’t understand why that patrol doesn’t take her and return her to her home. Are they blind? Now hurry! I don’t want you to be late.” They got into their car, where a man in a sharp suit was waiting; he started it, and they drove off.

“How about offering me a ride, huh? Mrs. Responsible Mother,” he kept talking to himself, making sure his voice was low enough not to be heard. “Your daughter and I have been in the same class since first grade. And what girl is she talking about? I don’t think anyone would be stupid enough to leave a little girl alone on the street.”

He turned toward the plaza and saw several children playing with their parents or watchful nannies who, although distracted by the newspaper or chatting on their phones, were always close by. His eyes found her sitting on the bench, off to one side of the plaza, far from the others, her eyes fixed on him.

Something about those eyes made him feel uneasy. They were black, like a starless night, and very large. Her lashes were long and thick. Her skin was as white as the full moon; she looked like a porcelain doll. A rather dirty doll.

Her face and white dress were stained with dirt. Her bare feet were dirty too. Her tousled hair partly covered her face, and, from behind it, her big, wet eyes kept watching him until she suddenly turned her gaze to the path that climbed toward the woods, like a small, frightened animal that had heard the sound of a predator.

Elías was still hypnotized, staring. He didn’t know whether to run to help her or run away from her. He had forgotten he was still sprawled on the ground until the loud rock tune of his cell phone snapped him out of it.

“Hello?”

“Elías, what the hell are you doing lying there? Taking a nap? Hurry up, the bus is coming!” said another kid’s voice on his phone.

“Javi? I’m coming, I’m coming.” He stood and saw his friend waving from the bus stop one block away. The bus was already stopping.

He ran as fast as he could and just managed to catch the bus before it pulled away. He wouldn’t have made it if his usual route’s street hadn’t been closed for repairs.

“Thanks, thanks for waiting, he said, huffing.

“Hurry up, kid. If it wasn’t for that pothole, I’d leave you.” He pressed the push-to-talk button of his intercom. ”Dear passengers, we’ll take the alternate route through the park, but we’ll return to the regular route at the next stop: La Salle University.”

Elías sat down, ignoring Javi’s voice yapping about how he stayed up late watching “A Haunting” on the Discovery Channel. He pressed his face to the window to see if the weird girl from the plaza was still there. But instead, he found a chaotic scene.

One patrol car was parked beside a crowd, and another one was pulling up. There were at least six police officers questioning all the parents in the plaza. Everyone had their children in their arms or holding their hands. Some children were crying, terrified by all the noise and the screams of Mrs. Milo.

“But he was here! I only got distracted for a second. One second!” She was walking in circles, her eyes turning everywhere. ”I was on the phone. It was from work. Weren’t you patrolling? You were right here. Didn’t you see anything? He was here… Here! I saw him talking to that girl on this bench. She was alone. Where are they? Where is my son?! Do something!” María Milo struck an officer in the chest, still yelling, until he managed to restrain and hold her while she kept struggling wildly and broke down in tears. “He was here! Please, do something!”

For an instant, Elías forgot all about his exam and looked everywhere for the weird, dirty girl, but she was gone. A stab of guilt pierced his chest again, and he called home, letting out a sigh when he heard Lurdes’s voice and, in the background, his sister singing along with her radio.

Everyone on the bus crowded against the window to watch the scene out there until it turned around the corner, and the plaza slipped out of sight.

The next day, and for a long time, no children were seen playing at the park.