Midnight Before Christmas

7

“He was always abusive,” Bonnie said in a hoarse whisper. Her hands drummed nervously against the passenger door of Megan’s Toyota. “Verbally. He could be so cruel. And when he lost his temper … well … sometimes he hit me. Hit me hard. But that was nothing compared to what happened toward the end.”

Megan kept her eyes on the road. “What happened?”

“He was getting into trouble with his superiors on the police force. Drinking too much. Basically, he was destroying his life, and he knew it. So he took it out on us.”

“You mean-”

“You know what I mean. Me and Tommy.”

Megan nodded grimly. They were cruising through the parking lot at Penn Square Mall, hoping to bring in a long shot. It was just possible that Carl would bring Tommy toy-shopping here, and that Bonnie might recognize the pickup. They had already called the police, who had promised to do everything they could, but given the circumstances-that Tommy hadn’t been gone long, that he was with his father, that it was Christmas Eve-that probably wouldn’t be much. Bonnie had nearly collapsed with hysteria; Megan had promised they would do everything they could think of to find the boy themselves.

“Did he … hit Tommy?” Megan asked.

“He tried once. The night before I finally left him. I’ll never forget that night. He came home livid, seething with rage. And stinking drunk. He was striking out at everything within reach. Tommy did something-I don’t even remember what. Didn’t matter-it was just an excuse. Carl reared up his fist and”-Bonnie covered her face with her hands-“I just thank God I was there. I pulled him out of the way. Told him to go to bed.” Her lips pressed tightly together. “Of course, after I did that, you can guess who became Target Number One.”

“He beat you?”

“Not at first. At first we just shouted insults at each other. I told him I was going to divorce him. He didn’t care. But then I told him I was going to take Tommy away from him. That’s when he went ballistic. Screaming, hitting. Said he would never let anyone take his son away from him. Said he’d kill him first.”

Megan’s stony demeanor was rapidly fading. “What did he do then?”

“Then he became violent. Physically violent.”

Megan swallowed. “How violent?”

Bonnie’s eyes took on a glassy, fixed cast. “Like you wouldn’t believe. I–I had heard stories about women-about-” She took a deep breath. “About battered women. But I never imagined. He hit me in the face-blackened both eyes. He cracked a collarbone. Bruised my arms, legs, breasts. Bleeding. I was a mess.”

Her head sunk low, as if the shame of the memory still haunted her. “I felt like I’d been crippled, in every way you can imagine. I just lay there on the floor in the living room, whimpering, barely breathing, unable to move. Finally, I guess it wasn’t fun for him anymore, punching an inanimate object. He ran off, probably to some bar. I can’t tell you how relieved I was. I–I really thought he was going to kill me.”

Megan kept staring straight ahead, trying not to react. “And that was when you left him?”

“Actually, no. Pretty pathetic, huh? No, even after that, I didn’t have the guts to make the move. I just lay on the floor for what seemed like an eternity until I heard Tommy coming down the stairs. He was still awake, you see. He’d seen the whole thing. I was so ashamed.” She covered her face with her hands.

“Was he … upset?”

“He was very subdued. Amazingly mature, all things considered. He knew I was hurt. He kept saying, ‘Come on, Mommy. Let’s go to the hospital.’ So I finally pulled myself together and went to the hospital. That’s when they told me I had a fractured collarbone.”

“And that’s when you decided to leave him.”

Bonnie let out a laugh, a small bitter laugh. “No, not even then. Not even then.” She raised her head, wiping her eyes clear. “Truth is, I didn’t know what to do. Didn’t have a clue. So we went home. Carl wasn’t there, so we both went upstairs to our rooms. I collapsed on the bed, fell asleep. Didn’t wake up for twelve hours.”

“You must’ve been exhausted.”

“I was.” There was a long pause. The tremble returned to her voice. “But when I woke up, Carl was home. With Tommy.”

Megan shook her head, too horrified to make an intelligent comment. “What did you do?”

“At first, nothing. It seemed innocent enough. They were sitting at the breakfast table together, eating cereal. Carl didn’t appear drunk. He wasn’t raving or lashing out. I had a headache like you wouldn’t believe. So I poured myself some juice and sat at the table with them.”

“As if nothing had happened.”

“That’s exactly right. As if he hadn’t tried to obliterate me the night before.” She took a deep breath, tried to steady herself. “Tommy was about to take his first bite before I noticed.”

“Noticed… what?”

“There was something powdery all over his cornflakes. And it wasn’t sugar frosting, either. It was rat poison.”

Megan’s foot slammed down on the brake. “Rat poison?”

Bonnie nodded. “You see, he had meant what he said. Every word of it. If he couldn’t have Tommy, no one could. And the thing is … the thing is …”

Her body began to quiver, consumed by anguish and fear. “The thing is …” she repeated, her voice choking, “he said the same thing this morning.”

“Eat your food,” Carl said.

Tommy pushed the spicy chicken with peanuts away. “I’m not hungry.”

“Here, I’ve got a little something that will make it especially good.” He poured a dark liquid over the food, then stirred it in. “You’ll really like this. I want you to eat every bite.” He looked steadily into Tommy’s eyes. “You understand me? Every single bite.”