Chapter twenty five, Jessica Present. Jessica awakens as the van turns onto a dusty road. She had fallen asleep with her head at an odd angle, bouncing around in the back of the van. Her butt and back are sore from leaning against the hard rubber of the van's interior, and her left leg is asleep from the knee down. She still can't feel her hands because they
are tied behind her back. She rubs them together anyway, hoping to feel the prickling sensation of feeling start to come back, but she feels nothing. She kicks her feet out, trying to touch them to her father's that are inches from hers. She fails, so she scoots down until her sandals touch his tennis shoes. He has been snoring, and he starts when she makes contact. Dad, Jessica whispers, ramming her foot against his shin her shoes,
making a clunking sound sound on the cold van floor. Martin wake up. She tries again, this time more forcefully. She hopes her voice is drowned out by the mariachi music that is blaring throughout the van. Jessica sneaks a glance in the direction of the driver's seat. The first man is driving. The second man in the passenger seat is sound asleep, his head lulling
to the right side. It bumps against the window slightly. Martin finally wakes slowly, his eyes cracking open, pushing his arms up towards the sky and stretching as if he had not a care in the world. When his hands hit the top of the van, it as if he finally realizes where he is, and his eyes open wide. He hurriedly scrambles up to a straighter sitting position, his eyes darting back and forth from Jessica to the window behind her. He shakes his head as if to clear it, and speaks,
where are we? How I know, dad, don't you? Jessica snaps at her father in dumbfounded amazement. Suddenly, Martin remembers a look of recognition crossing his face. Arizona, he whispers, now, gazing out the back window of the van with the dreamy expression of a child on vacation at the beach Peach Springs. He finishes, nodding his head once as it to finalize the statement, why are we in Arizona? Jessica is too confused to whisper
anymore. The van takes a right hand turn and slows, finally rolling to a stop one hundred feet from the churn. The driver wakes up the passenger, who seems unhappy to be awake. They argue for a while, their Spanish rapid and kurt until the second man opens the passenger side door to exit the van. He lights a cigarette. The driver glances back toward Martin and Jessica in the rear view mirror, and then exits the van as well.
Honey, we are in Arizona, because well because Martin continues hesitantly shooting terrified glances at the men outside the van. He turned back towards Jessica and opens his mouth to speak again, when there is a sudden, loud, smacking sound and the face of one of the men smashes up against the glass inches from the back of Martin's head. His hands are cupped around his cheeks, and the man snarls and slams his palms again against the glass, making the
whole van shake. Martin screams a high pitched scream, writhing in terror, and closes his eyes. The man backs away from the van. His and the other man's hysterical laughter can be heard through the glass in the back window. They speak in Spanish again. Jessica stares at her father. Before Martin or Jessica can say another word, the van shakes, this time because the men take off at a run, banging into the side of it as they
go. Jessica can see through the top window that the men are running toward a white truck that has parked about fifty feet behind the van. The truck driver's side door is open, that is all Jessica can see Martin what she begins to say, beginning to feel afraid again. It'll be okay, honey, Martin says again, still recovering from his scare. Stop fucking saying that. Jessica yells, tears beginning to wall up in her eyes. She hears a struggle from outside the van, a girl's muted, surprised cry, and
then the men yelling in Spanish again. Then she hears a sound as if someone is being dragged through the dirt, fighting all the way. As Jessica curls herself up into a ball and tries to lie down on the van floor, the back doors fling open, and a girl kicking and screaming, is shoved inside the doors close with a bang. She is skinny, the smallness of her body barely making the van move as she hits the floor of it. She is very pale, with dirty blonde hair that is pulled into a
ponytail. The girl wears short, frayed jean shirts and a dirty white tank top with holes in it. Jessica can see the outline of her gray sports brawl underneath the tank. She wears tattered foot flops on her feet, and as she looks up to survey her surroundings, Jessica notices that her eyes are a dark hazel color. The girl seems dazed, and Jessica moves her foot away from her so as not to scare her more. Her skinny arm is pinned beneath her on her left side, and the girl emits an owl before
slowly moving it out from under her and struggling to a sitting position. The girl rubs her hand over her cheek and forehead, passing it down to her shoulder and finally her left knee that is bloody and starting to bruise. She winces in pain as her hand passes over the scrapes that form pink zigzag lines and drops her hands to the floor. Jessica looks to her father, who is sitting staring at the girl before him. His eyes travel up and down.
Recognizing her, Nicole, Martin says in a whisper of disbelief and wonderment, it's really you. Do you know her? Jessica asked her father, who's still looking at the girl, ignores her. I don't know you. The girl spats at Martin, giving him the once over. And what did you just call me? Nicole? Martin repeats, this time louder and more forcefully. Your name is Nicole. The girl turns her head to focus on
Jessica before snapping it back in Martin's direction. My name is Freedom, the girl says a little more quietly, this time, as if she now doesn't believe but herself. Martin gives a nervous glance in Jessica's direction, and then back to the girl. Your name is Nicole, and you are my daughter. When neither girl says anything, he tries again, Nicole, meet Jessica, Jessica, meet Nicole, your sister. Martin finishes the introduction with a
little laugh and a nod of his head. Not exactly the way I wanted you to meet but there you have it. Jessica's mouth drops open. Neither she or Nicole speak. They both look from Martin to each other and back again. But what, Jessica starts struggling to comprehend the words her father has just spoken. She has a sister, she thinks, shyly looking at the
girl, Jessica studies her, trying to find similarities in their appearances. Jessica has a darker complexion than the girl, and she is taller and heavier, but just slightly. Their noses are similar, and their eyes are both wide set and large. The girl looks back at her, looking for similarities as well, Jessica presumes. Nicole quickly turns away, then scrambles toward the back doors of the van, where she runs her hands over them, searching for
a latch. She pounds on the doors with her fists, screaming for help. Don't try, Jessica offers, sighing and flinging her head toward the front seat. It's futile. What the fuck does that mean? Nicole turns around and glares at Jessica. It takes Jessica a minute to realize the girl is serious. It means that is pointless to try to escape. We've been in this van for over twenty hours now, I assume to come pick you up. Nicole pauses her hands sliding down the doors of the van and looks at
Jessica. Why do they want me? Why did you come to pick me up? Nicole looks as if she is about to cry. Who are those men, Nicole? Honey? Martin starts stop calling me that. Nicole interrupts him, Stop it. I don't even know who you are. You're not my dad. She is crying now, shaking her head in disbelief. Jessica is about to comfort the girl, but is interrupted by the man in the driver's seat of the van. He has turned the key in the ignition and
is yelling back to the three of them. Nicole, he screams, his Spanish accent strong Nicole. He barks again, waving his hands in the direction of the trailer park, gesturing wildly. Ohso also nande esta Also What is he saying? Nicole asked, looking at Jessica in a panic. What does he want? As Jessica begins to shake her head, Martin pipes up, scooting toward Nicole. He needs the bear, sweetie, that Barrett I gave you when you were four years old. Do you remember? We need it
now? Nicole puts her hands over her ears, trying to shut out the noises of both men screaming and Martin up close in her ear. What bear, Jessica asked, looking wildly from Martin to Nicole. The teddy bear. Martin is exasperated, now, that creepy, stupid bear. I gave it to you and told you to keep it all those years ago. Don't you remember? His eyes flash excitedly angrily. His voice rises until he's yelling at Nicole the teddy rock's been talking, fucking bear? Do you have it?
Martin enunciates every word like he is speaking to a child. Nicole stares at him, eyes wide and trembling. The man in the passenger seat speaks over everyone in better English. You take us to your house, and you get us the bear. Jessica finally sees a look of comprehension come across Nicole's face. She takes her hands off her ears and sits up on her knees. Yes, I have the bear, she admits to the men, her voice
rising so they can hear her. In the front seat, I have the bear, she repeats, if I give it to you, will you let me go? The men do not respond. Instead, the driver punches the gas and the van goes squilling through the entrance to the trailer park. Jessica has thrown back against the black rubber side of the van. Her head hits the window behind her. As her head snaps back, she whispers to Nicole, do you really have the bear? Nicole nods her head emphatically. I
still wind with fear. Nicole speaks up again over the roar of the engine. It's the last one on the right. She points to a gray trailer in the distance, and Jessica feels the driver speed up as he pushes the gas pedal heavily. The back of the van sways back and forth as they pick up speed, spewing dust through the trailer park. Jessica notices that luckily, the park is empty, save for a few Indian children who are playing with a basketball and a rusted hoop at the far end of the trailer park,
next to Nicole's house. The children stop playing and look up at the van as it careens toward the trailer. One by one, the kids put their hands up to their brows in order to shield their eyes from the hot desert sun. The van stops suddenly, the brakes squealing, and Jessica is thrown back against the side once again. Nikole goes flying face first into the
back seat in front of her. Jessica barely has time to react before the van doors are thrown open again and the second man is reaching into it, grabbing for Nicole's right leg with his left hand as he holds the gun in his right Niicole kicks and makes contact with the man's forearm, which angers him, and in one swift motion, points the gun down at a cactus that
is ten feet from where he is standing and pulls the trigger. The bullet blasts out of the gun with a loud pow, the cactus exploding into thousands of shards of needles and green fur that rain down over the man and the nearby brush. Jessica and Martin cry out as Nicole stops moving long enough for the man to grab her leg and pull her roughly toward the back of the van. The children playing basketball scatter and run in the opposite direction toward the
mountains. The man yanks Nicole to a standing position, cocking the gun again and holding it to her head. Oh so, he says, pushing her forward toward the house the bear. He shuts the van doors, and Jessica watches as their heads disappear away from the windows. At the back of the doors Martin, Jessica cries out, do you think anyone is in the trailer? I hope not. Her father answers, I sure, hope not. Jessica and Martin sit in silence for what seems like ours, nervously waiting for
Nicole and the man to return. Finally they do. The doors open and Nicole is thrown roughly into the back of the car, this time clutching a ragged brown teddy bear. It wears a red tshirt and one leg dangles off of it precariously, the white stuffing half out. The man, still holding the gun, reaches for the bear and rips it out of Nicole's hands. He begins to tear wildly at the stuffed animal, holding it against his thigh for support in order to claw at the brown fur and white stuffing. Martin
speaks up, scooting toward the man and the bear. If you get me out of these handcuffs, I can help you, Salensio. The man shouts, pointing the gun at Martin, but Martin is not to be swayed. It's in the leg, Martin says, quietly, the left leg, but the man does not hear, and he is already tearing away at the bear's left leg. White stuffing flying all around the van, fat furry snowflakes coming
down in the middle of a desert. Jessica watches as the man finds what he is looking for, grappling at an old silver key that glints and shines in the sun as the man holds it up triumphantly. Ha the man exclaims, throwing the dilapidated bear back in Nichol's face and slamming the van doors once more. The bear comes to rest on the van floor. Nichole splutters and shakes her head, the bear falling into her lap and resting there, rendered
unrecognizable by the destruction. A low, groaning noise, garbled and mysterious, comes from the bear. It speaks slower and slower, until finally it stops all together with a whir and a thud. Jessica looks at her father and her sister, her mind running a mile a minute. As the van heads out of the trailer park and toward the interstate. Do you know where we're
going now? Nicole looks at Martin, and Jessica notices the girl has hugged her thighs close to her chest, the pink scratches on her knee, turning to scabs and brushing against her chin. Yes, I do, honey. Don't call me honey, Nicole barks at him, spit flying out of her mouth and landing on one of Martin's pant legs. You're not my dad, Jessica, as scared as she is, has to suppress a smile. Sisters or not, she must admit that Nicole has a spark like she does and
seems to share a hatred of their father. Martin ignores her and answers the question, we are going to Washington, d C. Jessica and Nicole look at him blankly, while Martin continues looking to Nicole, where you were born? There are papers in a bank vault there that will get us all a lot of money. Martin glances up in the direction of the men in the front seat and lowers his voice. The money. Martin hesitates and coughs, tries again, I owe some money to a man. Martin sees the looks
on the girl's faces and tries to comfort them. But it will all be okay, I promise you. I've made sure there is plenty of money for everyone to be taken care of. The girls open their mouths to speak, but Martin hurries on it is time I tell you girls a story of what happened, and Martin does. As the van travels east, Jessica's father talks. He tells the girls about how he made a killing in the stock market because of Worlds of Wonder, the Teddy Ruxman doll, and laser tag.
He tells them how he was bribed by the senator from California, who then forced him to move money for the Mexican drug cartels. The senator had had ties to the cartels for a while and claimed that Martin owed him a favor. Things started to go south quickly. Martin lost the drug cartel's money, but saved some on his own, tucking it away under his daughter Nicole's name. When the senator found out that Martin had lost the money, he sent
his goons after Martin to beat him up and threaten his family. Martin was shaken enough enough to confess to the sec and in ratting out the senator at the same time, spared himself years in jail. Martin then agreed to go
into the federal witnessed Protection program along with his wife and daughter. Martin explains how Ryan took Nicole and kept her safe, how she was supposed to eventually be reunited with her family so they could live out the rest of their lives together, but that they had all decided that that would not be what was best for Nicole. At this point in story, Jessica notices that Nicole starts to cry, hastily and angrily, wiping away the tears that slowly rolled down
her cheeks. Martin tells them that he and their mother were told where she was, but never to contact her again. Nicole now had a family that loved her and would keep her safe. Her name was changed to Freedom by her adoptive parents, and her identity was changed. Martin and Lisa Walker's names were changed to Stanley and Donna Chase, but they never used their new names
around each other. They found it easier not to have any friends or acquaintances after the change, and hid from the world as much as they could. Martin goes on to say that once they were moved to Difuniac Springs, Lisa, their mother had wanted another girl, a child, to fill the void where Nicole had once been. Jessica was born. Both girls, in their respective corners of the world, were kept safe through ignoran prints of each other
and Nicole's true identity. Jessica was sheltered from most everyone and everything because Martin and Lisa thought that would be best. Jessica's father keeps talking, telling her in Nicole that the Senator had recently been released from jail and had probably found him and Lisa because they had been careless in not using their old identities.
The Senator also had friends in very high places because of his former position in the government, so he could have easily found his way to the Walkers through
threatening those officials. As Jessica listens, Martin wraps up this story by telling Nicole and Jessica that the Senator's men, who are now holding them hostage, had killed their mother and went searching for the key that unlocks the safe deposit box in a bank vault in Washington, d c. The box holds the paperwork stating that the hidden money is in Nicole's name, and that she is
the only one who can retrieve it. Martin set up the trust in her name years ago, hid the key in the bear, and gave it to Nicole to keep until he saw her again. Martin stops talking and looks down at the ground, hanging his head in shame. Jessica does not speak as Martin finishes his story. She looks to the girl across from her, Nicole, the girl who must be her sister. Jessica cannot believe she has a
sister. After praying night and day for years and years for God, someone, anyone to send her a friend, a sister, the best friend one could ever hope for, her wish has come true. She looks to Martin next, the father she never had, and purses her lips. Jessica crosses and uncrosses her feet, staring at him, hoping he will say something more, but he doesn't. Nicole speaks next, So your mom died? The question is directed at Jessica. Rage boils up inside her as the tears start
to fall, dropping onto her lap. They killed her, Jessica hisses, pointing her head in the direction of the men in the front. They killed her because of Martin Dad our dad. He's the reason she died. Martin twitches uncomfortably, raising his shoulders in defense of himself. I didn't know what to do. I didn't know, he starts. Just stop, Jessica pleads,
the sobs now coming uncontrollably. Don't speak anymore. Please. She points her chin towards her left shoulder, closing her eyes, wishing the nightmare would end. Martin clears his throat, coughs, and looks away. Nicole stares straight ahead, a blank stare in her eyes. They spend most of the rest of the drive in silence, each one lost in his or her own thoughts. They stop once to pee, the men pulling over to the side of the road and letting them out to squat, watching them as they smoke
cigarettes. Jessica tries to look over at Nicole in the dark, but her head hangs and she can only see her sister's profile, her eyes downcast and sad. Jessica gives up and is led back to the van, hands still tied. The first man pushes her on to the cold, hard floor. She spends the rest of the night in a fitful sleep. When she awakens, after what seems like days, the sun is hanging low in the afternoon sky. Jessica opens her eyes and peers out the window on the back door
of the van. The sun's rays blinding her, and she shuts them again. Are we there yet, she asked groggily, only half expecting an answer from one of her two family members sharing the space in the van. Her father answers almost immediately, gratefulness apparent in his voice. We're on the Beltway, We're in DC. Where are they taking us? Nicole pipes up? Jessica is thirsty, desperate for some water. She is also hungry, but knows they probably won't be getting food anytime soon. I don't know, Martin
says, remorsefully, but soon this will all be over. Neither girl responds. After another twenty minutes, the van turns onto a gravel drive. Jessica can feel the van shaking as it goes over the stones. In front of her. She sees what looks like an old, dilapidated warehouse with a faded sign out the front. Before the van turns again into a darkened space. Jessica sees green grass stretch out for what looks like forever in front of her.
Then her vision is clouded as the light is gone, the first man opens the van door, and holding the gun, leads the three of them out silently. They are in what looks like an old garage. Because her eyes are still adjusting to the lack of light, Jessica finds it empty at first, but as her eyes adjust she begins to see large shapes looming in the distance. At the far end of the space. They are parked one in front of the other, Their white hoods curve over steering wheels and benches,
their tires most flat, collecting dust and cobwebs. They are golf carts. Jessica finally realizes rows upon rows of them, standing stock still, like ghosts in the night. Where are we? Nicole yells, straining against the grip of the first man, her tiny body flailing wildly. Let us go, she cries, spinning toward the exit. The man takes his gun and raising his arm, brings it smashing down across Nicole's face. Jessica cries out,
screaming, before the second man's hand clamps over her mouth. Jessica watches as Nicole's eyes roll back into her head and her body goes limp. She is dragged by the second man to a chair and tied up with a rope that has been tossed on the ground. No longer resisting, the first man does the same with Jessica. She feels the rope being wound tightly around her breasts, her hand still handcuffed. Martin stands a few feet away, watching
his daughters be bound. He does not move. The men finish tying up the girls and light cigarettes simultaneously leaning against the golf carts. Their smoke curls up into the darkness, the only light coming from the embers on the cigarette tips. It is silent. Before long, a door creaks open, flooding the warehouse with light. Jessica squints, attempting to see who is standing in the threshold as the door smashes against the wall. It is a tall man,
dark skinned with thick, wavy silver hair. He is distinguished, looking thin yet imposing. His lips curl into a sinister smile as he saunters casually across the floor, and his right hand is a cigar. Jessica can see the smoke rising from it and smell its distinct smell. Martin turns toward the man as he comes closer, until he is standing inches from her father's face. Martin raises his face up toward the man, no expression on his own.
Senator Martin greets him with one word. The man's smile grows broader, and clamping the cigar in between his teeth, stretches out his right hand to reach around Martin's back. Turning Martin around, he deftly undoes his handcuffs. He spins Martin back around to face him, Martin making no move to escape, He stands his posture rigid Martin. The man finally speaks, taking the cigar out from between his teeth. He finally looks over to the girls.
Nicole still limp and her chair, her head flung back. Jessica whimper's wide eyed. You have brought me two girls. I only need the one. His eyes lock on Jessica's expressionless. After what seems like an hour long stare, the man turns back to face Martin. It is nice to be back, the man says, looking around the warehouse. How's your handicap these days? A twelve? Martin responds, immediately, still staring at the man, not bad. I must improve upon mine. Amazing what two decades in federal
prison can do to your game. The man snaps his fingers and the first kidnapper flings his cigarette to the ground before trotting over to him. The kidnapper produces the silver key, holding it up before the man before pressing it into his palm. Thank you, Miguel, the man says, waving him away with a flick of his hand. The man studies the key. It glints in the light. The man places it into his pocket. Why did you bring me here, Martin asked, his voice escalating with defiance. You have
everything you need now. His face inches closer to the senators challenging him. The senator laughs, shaking his head and sighs, I brought you here to do this. The senator tosses his cigar to the ground and holds out his right hand, palm out toward Martin. Martin glances down at the hand, raises his own right one, and grips the man's firmly. The two men
stand still, locked in a handshake, eyes meeting. Without warning, the senator snaps his hand back and in one swift motion, reaches around his right side, pulling out a silver gun and swinging it around, presses it down against the top of Martin's head. Jessica cries out in terror. Martin does not flinch, his eyes, full of resignation, look up into the man's once again. One second later, the Senator pulls the trigger. Outside the
warehouse. On the floor. In the back of the white van parked along the side of the forever grass, a strange beeping noise can be heard. Its sound is small but insistent, deep inside the stuffing of the mangled teddy bear. Far beneath its left eye, in the cavity of the animal's brown head, the oldsmobile GPS tracker pings its red light, blinking faintly but steadily. Chapter twenty six, Martin Past. Martin had never spent much time with
either of his girls when they were growing up. He didn't see the need when he had a wife to raise them. That's what wives or four raising children. Martin was taught that by his father, a former naval air pilot in World War Two, Bernard Walker, believed that women should be the children's sole caretaker, and that those children should be seen and not heard. Martin
was boring to Harriet Walker while his father was still away at war. When he returned home four years later, Martin remembered being introduced to him like he was a stranger, which he was and never seemed less of one. As time went on, Martin's father would come home at the end of the workday, sit on the couch, put his feet up on the coffee table in
front of him, chain smoked cigarettes, and drink martinis. The martinis would be served to him on a platter by Martin's mother, who would scamper away to the kitchen to put the finishing touches on the family's dinner. After depositing the gin into Bernard's hand. At six oh five on the dot, Bernard would bellow into the kitchen in a voice coated with liquor and cigarette smoke to
order that dinner be served at the table within the minute. Martin and his brothers and sisters would, at full speed run towards said table, knowing that if they were tardy, it would be the belt lashing over their behinds ten times, sometimes twenty, depending on how much their father drank. Martin learned to sit up straight at his place at the table on time and not to
speak as he cleaned his plate. At the end of the meal, the children were asked to be excused and once their patriarch nodded his approval, they all would run off, knowing to play quietly in their rooms until bedtime. This was the only interaction with his father he could remember, and this was about the only type of interaction he expected to have with his daughter, Nicole
when she was born. For the most part, it was Lisa Walker was to have a little girl, and Martin was too busy working and screwing up his own life along with everyone else's, to care that he had offspring at all. He would come home at the end of the workday, stressed, sometimes already drunk or high on cocaine, sit on the couch and prop his feet up and order Lisa to bring him whiskey. He had tried to drink gin like his father, but Martin thought the stuff tasted like rocket fuel,
so he gave that up and switched to whiskey. Nicole would run around at his feet, and instead of giving her a few good whippings with the belt if she got too loud, Martin would just order Lisa to take her away out of his sight so he could enjoy his drink in peace. He had just had a long day at the office and he didn't need a squealing toddler
at his feet, begging him to watch her play with blocks. This arrangement worked well for Martin, and it seemed like it worked well for his wife and daughter too, until one day, when Nicole was almost four years old, right before things started to unravel, he got a call around noon from his wife. Martin was at the office very busy and snapped up the phone, cradling the receiver between his ear and shoulder. Lisa what he barked,
scribbling down figures on a notepad in front of him. I'm very busy here today, and Lisa interrupted him. Martin was surprised by this outburst and physically rocked back in his chair. His wife never interrupted him. That was very rude, Martin decided and was about to tell her so, but Lisa continued talking. It seemed like she was crying as she talked, snuffling and sniffling and breathing heavily. It's my aunt Molly, Lisa heaved. Martin could hear
noises of things crashing in the background. She's in the hospital. She had a fall and they don't think it looks good. Both of the nannies are unavailable. I need you to pick up Nicole from preschool in twenty minutes, she finished, your Aunt Molly, hummm, Martin repeated, slowly, trying to register in his head who that might be. In a second, it came to him they had gone to some old woman's house about a year ago. She had lived in Silver Springs, and Martin had complained the whole time
about the drive. He and Lisa had had dinner with the old broad and Martin had got rip roaring drunk. Lisa had driven home. I rate with Martin about his behavior. Martin chuckled to himself as he remembered that night. Yes, that must have been Aunt Molly, he decided, Yes, Martin. Lisa Walker continued, obviously exasperated at his failure to remember immediately. I have to go to the hospital and I can't pick Nicole up. You have got to do it. But why can't you go to the hospital after you
pick Nicole up from school take her with you, Martin whined. Martin. Lisa Walker stated the one word forcefully. The hospital is in Silver Springs. I have to leave soon in order to make it there in time. I'm not going to bring Nicole to the hospital with me in Silver Springs her voice escalated on the last word, verging on hysteria. Martin figured it was time to give up the ghost and just agree to pick up his daughter from school.
Anything was better than Lisa Walker actually becoming hysterical. All right, all right, Martin agreed. I'll pick her up. Forty minutes, you said, and where is her school? Twenty minutes, Lisa screamed into the phone before disconnecting the line. The dial tone buzzed in Martin's ear. He held the phone at arm's length, confusedly, staring at the receiver and cocked his head. Well, he thought, finding her school shouldn't be so hard.
Martin thought. He remembered there was a school on Parkland Avenue. He always sawt children playing there. The more he thought about it, the more sure he was pleased with himself. Martin bounced up out of his chair and scurried toward the back exit of the building, grabbing his car keys on the desk as he went. He jogged to the Jaguar parked in the spot of honor nearest the back door to the building. Martin could do this. He was
going to pick up his daughter from school. What a great dad he was, Martin gave himself a metaphorical pat on the back as he read the engine and peeled out of the parking lot. Fifty two minutes later, he pulled up in front of a fancy schoolhouse on Howard Avenue, miles away from the
school on Parkland. He squinted and leaned over the steering wheel until he could just make out a little girl standing in front of the double doors to the school, holding the hand of a very disgruntled looking woman with gray hair. It was his daughter. Martin had found the right place. As he pulled the jag up to the curb, Nicole bounded up to the car, clapping her hands and yelling, Daddy, daddy, Yes it is I, Martin
acknowledged, doing a little half bow in the driver's seat. Nicole burst into laughter and did a little dance on the sidewalk, swaying back and forth and kicking her feet. The teacher leaned into the window to talk to Martin, her face inches from his. You're late, she berated him, looking through him into the car, surveying the interior. Yes, um, Martin started, I had to make a pit stop in between the office and hear and I. He trailed off as he realized the woman wasn't listening anymore. The
truth was the school on Parkland Avenue had not been the correct one. He had had to ask a passer by if and where there was another preschool in the vicinity. It had caused him to be quite late. Where is her car seat? The woman snapped again, peering behind Martin's head into the back seat of the car. Oh, I didn't realize she needed, Martin started, as he slid his hands over the steering wheel, trying to come up
with an excuse for not having one. He hadn't been aware that almost four year olds needed car seats still, but he didn't want to seem like an idiot for asking. It is in the trunk, he exclaimed, shoeing the coal around to the back and waving the woman away. The woman looked at him with one last look of disapproval, and her rumping walked away, shaking her head as she went. She looked back once twice, and then, with a long look over her shoulder, disappeared into the school. Martin breathed
a sigh of relief. Okay, he exclaimed to Nicole, looking at her with a look of apprehension. Where is my car seat, Nicole inquired, looking up at him, her hazel brown eyes wide with anticipation at the answer, Well, ah, yes, this is a special day and no car seat today, Martin sing songed, picking up his daughter awkwardly and placing her in the backseat of the car. He buckled her in, shutting the door, and scrambling to the driver's seat. He peeled away from the curb as
Nicole shouted gay. Martin didn't want the mean teacher to come back out and arrest him for child endangerment. They drove in silence for five seconds until Nicole piped up, why did you come to pick me up? Daddy? Where's mommy? Where's my car seat? How come Mommy's not here? Can we go to the park? Can we get ice cream? Where's my bunny doll? I learned about fish in school today. Sometimes they're pink and sometimes they're yellow. Why are they yellow? Daddy? How come they're yellow? How
come? Josh and my class always tells me girls are stupid? Can we get ice cream? Where are we going? Daddy? Can fish fly? Where are we going? Daddy? Martin drove on autopilot, his mouth agape, his eyes glued to the rear view mirror, and fascination at this small child in the back seat. He had never heard so many questions asked in succession in his whole life. Hell, just questions in general? And what did she mean about her bunny doll? What even was that? Martin nervously
gripped the steering wheel, not sure which question to entertain first. Luckily he didn't have to, because Nicole asked one question again, her smile as wide as the ocean, her face beaming. Where are we going, Daddy? Are we going to the park? Yes, Martin exclaimed, slapping his palm on the steering wheel in agreement. Yes, we are going to the park. Of course, Martin did not know where there was a park, but he figured it was the one near their house in his neighborhood. He thought
there was one nearby to the park, we shall go. Nicole must have thought this was hilarious, as evidenced by the way she burst into laughter. She held her chubby little hands up to her mouth and giggled for thirty seconds. When she stopped laughing, she placed her hands down at her sides and looked up again. I love you, daddy, she said. Martin glanced back at his daughter, wondering if he should say it back to her. But Nicole was gazing out the window, her little head bobbing up and down
as she sang a song about a frog. Martin pulled the Jaguar into the plague round and cut the engine. Nicole began straining at her seatbelt, her hands trying to unclasp the buckle. Just a minute now, Martin started opening the door and unlatching the buckle himself. When she was free, Nicole took off like a rocket, sprinting toward the playground and the swings. Martin followed,
hands in his pockets, sauntering up to the swings. Nicole was already swinging on the baby swing, pumping her little legs as fast as they could go. Daddy, push me, she yelled, her mouth opening and closing, wrabbing her lips around the air as if she were trying to eat it. Push me, daddy, oh okay. Martin agreed, side stepping another child to walk around to the back of Nicole's swing. He had been planning to sit on the park bench to watch her, but evidently it was a
hands on kind of day. Martin took his left hand and half heartedly pushed Nicole both hands, Daddy, she cried, squealing with delight. Martin took both palms and caught the swing seat, pushing Nicole until she went higher, higher up into the air. Martin laughed in spite of himself. His daughter's laughter was contagious. He looked around the playground and realized he was having fun.
He had never played with his daughter before. She seemed to contrive delight out of everything, pointing out the grass, the sun, the other kids on the playground, and making up songs about all of them. She would then beg Martin to make up a verse, and when Martin did, Nicole laughed again. You are so funny, daddy, she said, and Martin
felt proud. Next, Nicole wanted to go on the slide again. Martin stood to the side, hands in his pockets, watching as she climbed up the rungs, carefully placing one foot in front of the other and grunting with the effort. Finally, she reached the top and smiled down at him, her hair blowing in the wind all around her, her yellow dress waving in the breeze, her hand beckoning to him as her chubby cheeks flushed with excitement,
she called to him to come with her on the slide. At that moment, Martin wanted to freeze time and stay with Nicole in that day. As they were, with the sun shining down on them and his daughter beaming at him, she looked as if she worshiped him, needed him, was happy to be with him. Martin smiled back at the little girl he had never paid attention to, never truly looked at until now. Okay, I'm coming, he responded, heading for the top of the slide to join her.
They went down the slide twenty times that day, Martin holding his daughter in his lap, Nicole's arms up high trying to reach the sky, laughing and playing, and giddy with delight. Martin kept both arms around his daughter every time, holding her middle section as tightly as a father could squeeze, keeping her next to him, keeping her safe. When Lisa returned home that
night, well after nine o'clock, Nicole was asleep on the couch. She had fallen asleep after watching too many cartoons, fueled for hours by ice cream and pizza. As she drifted off, her brown hair falling across Martin's lap, still in her yellow dress from the day stained with pepperoni and chocolate. She whispered to Martin something unintelligible. What honey, He whispered back, patting
her brown hair and smoothing her dress as they switched off the TV. It was a good day, daddy, Nicole repeated, her voice fading away and her eyes closing. It was a great day, sweetie, he responded, placing his hand on her tiny shoulder, feeling her soft breath go in and out, in and out. It was a great day, and for the rest of his life, it remained the best day Martin could ever remember.