The Stolen - Jason Pinter [4]
go last year, and now she watched Alex Trebek at a volume
that could be heard from space.
Shelly took a moment to gaze around her house. Just a
few years ago, the back porch was riddled with termites,
the wood rotted, the whole structure ready to collapse. She
never would have let Tasha and James play on it. Randy
was never very good with tools, and they simply didn't
have the money to rebuild it. Not yet.
After their terrible ordeal, when their family had been
fractured, the Good Samaritans of Hobbs County had
reached out to help the Linwoods. Now barely a day
passed where James and Tasha weren't outside shooting
off water guns, dangling from the railing like a pair of
spider monkeys. At least the porch had been rebuilt.
While the kids were at school, while Randy was away
at work, Shelly would often find herself looking at the old
photos of their house, taken when they'd first moved in
years ago. She barely recognized what it had become.
The Stolen
19
The white paint was fresh, blue trim even, the mailbox
upright. Nobody egged their house on Halloween, and she
never had to call the police to report the teenagers who
used to drive by once a week and knock the mailbox
sideways with wielded baseball bats. Those kinds of things
never happened anymore. There were more cops; she
could feel their presence. They stopped by every so often,
just to see how she and Randy were holding up. I'm fine,
Shelly would say. We're fine.
The cops always turned down a cup of coffee. As though
being any closer to the sorrow might somehow infect them.
James was grimacing through his last scraps of food
when Shelly heard the doorbell.
"That's got to be Daddy," Shelly said. "He probably
forgot his keys again this morning. James, would you let
your father in?" James didn't move. "Did you hear me?"
"I'm cleaning my plate like you told me. I can't answer
the door and eat at the same time." He smiled at this
catch-22. Shelly sighed, though silently proud of her
son's intelligence.
"Fine, you can stop eating if you let your father in. But
if I hear that video game start up before you finish your
social studies homework, you won't watch television until
you graduate college."
James sprung up like he'd been shot from a cannon,
then bolted from his chair.
Shelly smiled at her daughter. Tasha. Her beautiful,
young daughter, who would grow up to be strong and
vivacious like her mother had never been. Shelly felt an
ache in her stomach and placed her palm on Tasha's cheek.
Tasha smiled at her, that big goofy grin full of baby teeth.
"Mom?" James's voice bellowed from the hallway.
"There's a kid here. Do you know anyone named Daniel?"
20
Jason Pinter
A napkin fell from Shelly's hand and fluttered to the
floor.
"Wha...what did you say, baby?"
"Daniel. There's some kid at the door says he knows you.
Wait, huh? Uh, Mom? He says...he says you're his mom."
Shelly leapt from her seat. She dashed through the
house, nearly knocking over the coffee table, and sprinted
into the front hallway.
The wooden frame was open to reveal the screen door.
A boy was standing behind the screen, looking confused
as to why he hadn't been allowed in yet. Shelly covered
her mouth to prevent a scream from escaping her lips.
On the other side of the door stood a boy Shelly both
knew and didn't know. He was about five foot three with
a lock of dark hair that fell over his hazel eyes. His father's
eyes. His limbs were gangly, full of sharp angles, as if he'd
grown a great deal in a short amount of time and the flesh
hadn't caught up to his bones. Everything and nothing
was just like she remembered.
"Baby, oh my God..."
She gently pushed James away from the door and tore
open the screen. The boy stood on the front porch with a look
of slight bewilderment, a twinkle of recognition, a blurry
memory slowly coming into focus. He didn't move. Instead,
the boy's eyes met Shelly's as though waiting for something,
and before another second passed Shelly Linwood gathered
the boy up into