Another patrol car arrived on the scene, and before we went home, we all drove around, Mother in one car and me in the other, searching for any sign of Kaylee. Sometimes the police would stop to ask a pedestrian if they had seen a girl who looked like me, and I would have to make myself more visible. On one stop, I actually stepped out of the vehicle.
“She’s wearing the same clothes,” they told potential witnesses. They all shook their heads and apologized for not having seen Kaylee. One elderly man looked as if he might have something to tell them. He was studying me so closely. My heart stopped in anticipation, but after another moment, he shook his head and told us his eyesight wasn’t what it used to be.
It seemed like we drove for hours. At one point, we passed the closed-down coffee shop, and I held my breath again. Was Kaylee still there, maybe lying on the side of the road? How would I react to that? It was deserted. There was no one on the sidewalks, no one in the street, and no one sitting in any vehicle. Even the shadows looked lonely.
Simon was left behind to wait at the movie theater in case Kaylee showed up there. When we returned and saw him alone looking confused and helpless, Mother grew more frantic. She wanted more police, more cars, and insisted that they knock on every door within a mile of the movie theater.
“He wanted Kaylee to meet him nearby,” she said. “He has to live somewhere in this neighborhood.”
They tried to reason with her, but she spun around on Officer Donald, the first policeman who had arrived at the movie theater, and screamed, “Do something! Don’t you understand? My daughter’s been kidnapped, or she would have been back by now. She’s being held somewhere against her will or taken so far away we’ll never find her. Every minute that passes is terrible!”
“You’ve got to stay calm, Mrs. Fitzgerald,” he told her, and looked to me to do something to help her, but I just lowered my head and looked as powerless as they felt.
A policewoman arrived, probably called in by one of the other cops to help handle Mother. To be truthful, even I was shocked at how she was behaving. Kaylee and I had seen her upset many times, of course. She used to pound on herself so hard when she screamed that she would have black-and-blue marks, but she was lashing out now and throwing her arms about so wildly that I thought they would fly off her body. She began screaming at me again for keeping Kaylee’s secret.
“Don’t you understand that you’ve been kidnapped, too?” she cried.
Everyone looked at her oddly then. I had to explain what she meant, how she believed that nothing ever happened to either of us without it happening to the other. Of course, it still made no sense to the police. It was then that I told Officer Donald about Daddy and how Mother’s insisting on both of us being treated exactly the same had led to their divorce.
“It became too much for my father,” I said.
They looked sympathetic. They didn’t have to say it. I could see it in their faces. It would have been too much for them, too, maybe for anyone.
Officer Monday returned to the patrol car to see about getting in touch with Daddy.
At one point, Mother broke away and started running up the street, insisting that the search go on and that we shouldn’t wait for additional assistance. We were wasting precious time. She had started toward someone’s front door when they rushed up to her. She was pulling her own hair and had to be forcibly restrained. The policewoman, Officer Denker, asked me for the name of our doctor.
“She has to be calmed down. She could hurt herself,” she told me.
I gave her Dr. Bloom’s name. Simon Adams stood off to the side now, looking too stunned to speak. I laughed to myself, imagining that he was thinking, What did I get myself into? I was surprised when Officer Monday came over to tell me they had located my father and that he was going to meet us at our house. I had thought for sure he was on some business trip miles and miles away.
We hadn’t had much contact with Daddy after the divorce had been finalized. Mother seemed to keep up with the news about him and his girlfriend. Apparently, from the last we were told, that romance had ended, and Daddy was living in an apartment by himself. We were supposed to go to dinner with him a week from now. Almost daily, Mother warned us that he would try to play on our sympathies.
“Poor him,” she said. “He’s alone again. But he’s always been alone. He prefers it, no matter what he tells you. He’s too selfish to be with anyone,” she assured us. “Don’t waste a tear on him.”
Mother had practically passed out by this time, emotionally exhausted. Officer Denker was with her in the rear of one of the patrol cars, commiserating. I had heard her tell Mother that she, too, had a teenage daughter. Mother looked at her and shook her head. Kaylee wasn’t simply a teenage daughter. Didn’t she understand? Kaylee and I were special.
Naturally, all the police activity in front of the movie theater had drawn a crowd. Anyone who showed up was questioned, but as I had expected and hoped, no one knew anything. Two plainclothes detectives arrived, and I had to tell my story again. A Lieutenant Cowan asked the questions. He was older than Detective Simpson, who I didn’t think was much older than a college student. He was by far better-looking, with sort of rusty light brown hair and greenish-brown eyes. Every time I answered one of Lieutenant Cowan’s questions, I
looked at Detective Simpson to see his reaction. I even smiled at him once.
“We’ll need your sister’s computer,” Lieutenant Cowan said. “Your dad’s on his way, and your family doctor is coming to your home for your mother, so why don’t you ride back with us and keep telling us all you know, all you remember?”
“I’d better ask my mother,” I said, looking at the patrol car she was in.
“Better to just come along,” Lieutenant Cowan said. “She’s calmed a bit. They’ll start for your house.”
I shrugged and followed them to their car. Before I got in, I looked at Simon Adams. He appeared to be totally lost now and not sure if he should remain waiting.
“My mother’s date doesn’t know anything,” I told Detective Simpson. “Maybe you should tell him to go home. My father’s coming,” I added, implying that this might be a problem.
He looked at Simon and then at Lieutenant Cowan, who nodded.
“Get his name, address, and contact numbers,” he told him.
I got into the backseat.
The patrol car taking my mother started to leave. When it pulled in front of us, I saw her spin around in the backseat and press her face to the rear window, looking as if she was clawing at it with her hands while she screamed. I looked down quickly, mostly embarrassed by her. Everyone would see how pathetic she was, but the good news was that most would feel sorry for me, I thought. Not only had I probably lost my sister, my other half, but my mother wouldn’t be the same.