The doorbell rang. “Who could that be?” I asked my wife.
“I don’t know, dear,” she replied with a shrug. “Can you answer it while I clean off the table?”
“Sure, Clare,” I said getting up from my chair. I fixed my tie as I walked towards the foyer, I had to get back to the office soon and I figured as soon as I talked to whoever was at the door I’d kiss my wife goodbye, thank her for the lunch, and be on my way.
I pulled open the door with a smile but it soon faded as I saw who was standing there on the doorstep in front of me.
“Mr. Hanson, I presume?”
I nodded. “What can I do for you officers?” I asked the police officer who had spoken.
“May we come in?” The other, a man, asked.
I held the door open wider. “Of course, please.” The pair stepped into the hallway and I closed the door behind them.
“Taylor, who is it?” My wife asked walking towards the front door, wiping her hands on a dishtowel. Her eyes became full of alarm when she saw the police officers standing there next to me. She immediately came to my side and stood a little behind me as though if something were going to happen I could shield her from it. And I would.
“Mr. Hanson, Mrs. Hanson,” The lady officer said nodding at both of us as she said our names. “There was a problem at school.”
Clare gripped my hand.
“Perhaps you better sit down,” the man suggested. I held my wife’s hand and walked the police officers into our living room. Clare and I sat down stiffly on the couch while the lady officer sat in the arm chair in front of us and the man remained standing.
“What happened?” I asked breathlessly.
“Tell me, do you have any enemies, Mr. and Mrs. Hanson?” The man asked.
I shook my head. “N-no,” I told them. “Please, just tell us what happened.”
“Your daughter, Zoë, was taken during recess, by someone other then yourselves.”
“No!” Clare gasped. “No, that can’t be true!” She started sobbing.
“What?” I demanded. “She was kidnapped?” The color drained out of my face and I could barely hear over the blood pumping in my ears. It couldn’t be true, it just couldn’t. “Who would steal my little girl?”
“The teacher looked away for a few minutes,” the woman went on. “Zoë was there one minute and the next she was gone. She asked a child where she went and the child replied ‘Zoë went with her Uncle Tony. She said she had never met him before but he told her that he was her daddy’s best friend because he knew everything about him.’
The teacher left her children with the other teacher who was in the playground at the same time and ran over to the gate, which was unlatched. Someone had just left not more then two minutes prior; Zoë and her ‘Uncle Tony.’ The teacher ran out into the street and called for your daughter and the kidnapper but it was too late. She then called the police. We are working with the neighborhood to find out if any suspicious vehicles were sighted this afternoon. I’m so sorry.”
I closed my eyes halfway through the story and I didn’t open them until she was done talking. Tears ran down my cheeks when she finished. Clare was sobbing on my shoulder now, a puddle forming on my clean suit from her own tears. I hugged her head and tried to put the puzzle together.
I sat up straight. “No,” I told the officers, breaking the silence. “I can’t believe someone would take her like that! How could they! No! I don’t believe it!” I started shaking uncontrollably and I stood up, startling my shocked wife even more. “NO!!!”
“Taylor,” Clare whispered softly from the couch. The officers were gone. It was me and Clare alone in the living room and now it was dark out. “Taylor.” Strangely enough there were no lights on in the room. “Taylor,” she said again, this time louder.
“Taylor, honey wake up.”
I opened my eyes and starred into the darkness. My eyes adjusting to the black mist. “Taylor, you were tossing and turning, what happened baby?” Clare was hovering over me from her spot on the bed. Her body turned towards me so she was sitting up on her left elbow, a look of concern on her shadowed face. She touched my forehead gently.
“You’re sweating!” She exclaimed. “Taylor, speak to me, please. You’re warm as well! Are you sick?” I swallowed a few times trying to figure out what just happened.
“Zoë,” I exclaimed. I pulled down the covers and jumped out of bed.
“What?” Clare asked. “Zoë?”
“Zoë.” I ran out of the room and into my daughter’s bedroom. I expected to find an empty room but instead I found my recently-turned-five year old daughter sleeping comfortably in the middle of her twin sized bed. I knelt down next to her and pulled her comforter up to her chin. She opened her eyes.
“Daddy?” She asked. A puzzled look on her face. “What are you doing in here? Is it time for school?”
I shook my head and smiled in relief. “No kiddo,” I told her. “I just wanted to make sure you’re all right. Go back to sleep now.”
“OK, Daddy.” She yawned as I kissed her forehead. “Good-night.”
“Good-night, sweet pea,” I told her, standing up. I walked to the door. “I love you.” I closed her bedroom door halfway and walked back to the bedroom I shared with Clare. I climbed in next to her and pulled the covers back up to my neck. “I don’t like this school idea,” I told my wife as I settled back into my pillow. “I don’t like it at all.”