The Stolen

17

The girl sat on the couch, listening to the two grown-ups speak as if she wasn't even there.

"I heard her coughing last night," Elaine Reed said. It was cold inside the house. The girl watched with curiosity as Elaine held a cup of tea to her cheek. She'd heard

Elaine's husband, Bob, say something about not being able to work the fireplace. Bob talked loud sometimes, and used words that Elaine got mad at him for.

Elaine was a pretty woman, only a little younger than her own mom. She had bright red hair and always wore pretty blue jewelry. When the other day the girl asked what kind it was, Elaine told her that her own daddy had brought it back from Greece. She said the rocks there were as blue as the sea itself.

Bob was shorter, with thinning dark hair and a beard that circled only his upper lip and chin. He wore glasses and didn't say much and spent most of the day reading books and newspapers. He seemed to like to argue about politicians, people he said were doing this country more harm than good. Elaine always nodded and smiled when he talked like that, but didn't really seem to have any opinions of her own in that regard.

The house was so huge, bigger than her old one, and the girl was scared to walk around alone. Not that she ever had to, since Elaine insisted on holding her hand almost everywhere she went. The girl felt strange, this woman she'd just met acting so friendly, but Elaine was nice and it meant not having to be scared. Even though she was still confused, the girl loved running up and down the lengthy hallways, laughing as Bob helped her slide down the banister. Elaine placed both of her hands around the cup, took a sip and placed it on the wooden table. Bob picked it up, frowned at her, then took a glass coaster emblazoned with a bright yellow sunflower and put the cup back down on it.

"She might just have a cold," Bob said. "Kids get colds.

Not everything is a life-threatening disease."

She'd heard Elaine mention that the Reed family had lived in this house for just six months, and still hadn't quite grown used to its nooks and crannies, the way it creaked during high wind, the way the linoleum was cool in the spring and hot in the summer. Yet for all the comfort,

Elaine said she still felt isolated. The days were sunny and clear, and when the windows were left open the girl could see the trees, high oaks. And the fence surrounding the property.

Bob Reed had a bit of a temper. Or as her daddy would say, his blood got up something. Bob complained that they had to drive three miles just to see a human being. And he had to fiddle with some sort of remote control to work a

"stupid" motor-controlled gate that allowed access to the driveway. Not to mention some brick wall that obscured the surrounding area. Elaine would put her hand on Bob's shoulder and say, "We know why this is happening. We need to make the best of it." Bob would look at her, nod, then go off on his own.

But right now they seemed concerned. A few days ago, the girl had come down with a cold. She felt shivery and warm at the same time, and no matter how many blankets

Elaine piled on top of her it never went away. When they first realized she was sick, Bob and Elaine grew pale, and this scared the girl.

"Kids cough," he said now, trying to be strong. "Look at Patrick. Hawked up a ball of phlegm every night until he turned three."

"Well, this one is six," Elaine said. "And that coughing doesn't sound right. Maybe we should take her to see someone."

"Not him," Bob said. "I don't trust that man."

"Neither do I, but we have to. He told us if we ever needed medical help, we had to see…"

"Screw that crazy, scarred-up old man," Bob said. "He doesn't have to live like this. He didn't have to change his life for some strange kid."

"Patrick," Elaine said. "Think of Patrick."

Bob sighed, put his head in his hands. "Her cold will pass," he said, reaching for the newspaper. "Can't even get the newspaper delivered because 'he' said so."

"Speaking of which," Elaine said, "I think it's time for her shot."

Bob nodded. He said, "I'll do it this time."

He stood up. Headed toward the bathroom. A minute later Bob came back carrying a plastic bag.

He opened the bag and took out a gauze pad, a syringe, a small vial and a bottle of clear liquid that smelled funny.

The girl watched all this. It all seemed vaguely familiar.

And though that needle looked huge, like the size of a knife, for some reason she wasn't scared.

"Did you wash your hands?" Elaine asked.

"Of course," Bob replied. He took the small vial and rolled it gently between his fingers. Next he took a cotton ball, opened the bottle of clear liquid, held the ball against the open top until it was wet, then cleaned the top of the vial with the cotton ball.

"That smells funny," the girl said. Elaine scrunched her nose and smiled.

"It does, doesn't it?"

Bob didn't smile. He just kept doing what he was doing.

Bob took the syringe and pulled the stopper back a little bit. Then he pushed the needle into the top of the vial, pressing the stopper again. A small bubble of air entered the vial. Then he turned the vial upside down, the syringe pointing at the ceiling, and pulled the stopper again until a small amount of the liquid was sucked into the syringe.

He tapped the syringe until the air bubbles had risen to the top of the needle. Then he removed the needle from the vial.

Bob turned to Elaine, still holding the needle. "Where did we give it to her this morning?"

"The abdomen," she said.

"Gotcha. Caroline, would you come here?" The girl stood up warily, then went over to Bob. "Here, sweetie, sit down next to me."

She did. Bob rolled up the sleeve of her right arm, then took the smelly cotton ball and rubbed it all over the underside of her arm. Then he blew on it gently.

"That tickles," the girl said.

"Just needs to dry a bit," Bob said. He waited a minute, then took her arm and gently squeezed her skin until a fold stuck out. Caroline winced a bit but stayed still.

"Good girl," Elaine said.

"Now close your eyes," Bob said. When she did, she felt a sting as the needle entered her skin. She felt Bob's grip tighten, then a few seconds later it eased up. She opened her eyes. The needle was on the table and Bob was swabbing her arm with another cotton ball.

"You're such a brave girl," Elaine said. Caroline smiled.