Abduction! (12 page)

Matt replaced the empty carton in the freezer and returned the chair. He couldn’t run away when he didn’t have any money. He’d starve.

Matt sat on the couch and played the list game. He closed his eyes and tried to remember everything he could about his mother and his sister and his dog.

He said the lists to himself every night before he went to sleep. He had made up lists of the stories Mom had read to him, the songs she sang, her clothes. He had one list of all the games Bonnie played with him. His favorite was when she pretended to be a catcher and he was a pitcher who threw fastballs.

“Ninety-eight miles an hour,” Bonnie would say when she caught a ball. “Another zinger!” It used to make him laugh, but remembering made him sad. He always ended up crying when he played the list game, but he knew it was important not to forget his family.

Mom liked flowers, Matt thought, and music. She taught me the words to lots of songs like “Down by the Station, Early in the Morning” and “I’ve Been Working on the Railroad.” She liked to drink tea and do cross-stitch. Best of all, she liked to have Matt sit on her lap while she read
LITTLE BEAR
or
OFFICER BUCKLE AND GLORIA
or
BLUEBERRIES FOR SAL
to him.

Bonnie liked to make beaded bracelets and run races with her track team and play her clarinet in the school band. She let Pookie sleep on her bed. Bonnie liked cinnamon rolls and ice cream.

Matt wished he hadn’t eaten all the strawberry ice cream the last time they had it. If he had known Bonnie was going to be killed in a car wreck, he would have left the ice cream for her and not eaten a single spoonful.

Pookie’s list was shorter: He liked to be petted, and he liked chew toys, and he liked to sleep in the sun.

Matt always put Pookie last in the list game because he hoped he might get Pookie back someday. Pookie wasn’t killed in the crash. Maybe some nice people
found Pookie at Marymoor Park, and someday Matt would see them walking him on a leash, and Matt would run to Pookie and hug him, and Pookie would be so excited and happy that the people would know he was really Matt’s dog.

Denny returned, talking on the phone as he entered. He seemed calmer, but Matt pretended to be asleep.

Denny shook his shoulder. “I bought pizza,” he said.

Matt opened his eyes and sniffed the cheese-and-tomato smell. “You said we couldn’t afford pizza anymore.”

“I got my money back for all those games. One clerk didn’t want to give me a full refund on the opened movies, but I made such a stink, she caved in.”

Matt was glad he hadn’t been there. “Are we still going to the baseball game tomorrow?” he asked.

“I said we were going, didn’t I?”

“I thought maybe you took the tickets back.”

“I promised my kid we’d go to a ball game, and I always tell the truth. Besides, they’re not refundable.”

“And then we’re going to ride the ferry and meet my cousins?”

“Your cousins and your aunt and uncle,” Denny said. “There’s only one thing.”

“What?”

“You’re going to have black hair and wear glasses tomorrow.”

“I am? Why?”

“Because Thomas and Tim have dark hair, and they wear glasses. This is a family reunion and everybody’s supposed to look alike for the pictures.”

“Oh.”

Denny opened a drawer and removed a small pair of eyeglasses with wire rims. “Here. Try them on.”

Matt put the glasses on and looked through the lenses. “Everything looks the same,” he said.

“It’s clear glass. It won’t change the way you see.”

“How’s my hair going to get black?”

Denny grinned. “Shoe polish. We’ll do it in the morning.”

The next morning Matt watched in the mirror as Denny applied black shoe polish to Matt’s blond hair. Denny stroked it on slowly, careful not to get any color on Matt’s ears or neck.

“This is how the movie stars get ready,” Denny said.

Matt giggled. He looked so different, even Stanley wouldn’t know him. When all his hair was black, Matt put on the glasses. “I don’t look like me,” he said. The red-and-gold Hawaiian-print shirt Denny had bought
him was unlike anything in Matt’s closet at home. Matt never chose shirts with buttons. He liked the new pants, though, with their deep pockets on both legs.

“Now all you need is a new name,” Denny said.

“What’s wrong with Matt?”

“Not a thing. But all the other kids have names that start with
T
—Thomas and Tim. You need a
T
name, too.”

“For always?”

“You’re going to be Travis.”

Matt thought about that. “I’ll be Travis for the weekend,” he said. “Then I want to be Matt again.”

He didn’t understand why Denny wanted him to be exactly like his cousins. Mom had always said every person is unique and we should celebrate our differences, but Matt didn’t say so. He didn’t want to take any chance on making Denny angry today. Matt would have dyed his hair pink and called himself
DOOFUS
if that’s what it took to go to a Mariners game, a ferry ride, and a sleepover with two other boys.

P
ookie slept with Bonnie Friday night. Even though he hogged the bed and snored, Bonnie wanted him where she could touch his fur anytime she felt like it.

Getting Pookie back had renewed her hope that Matt would come home, too. Of course she had never totally given up, but as the days went by, her optimism had faded.

The worst moment had come when she read on a Web site that seventy percent of abducted children who are murdered get killed within three hours of when they were taken. Three hours! Bonnie had cried, and that night she’d had the prairie dream again.

Now Pookie’s familiar doggie smell comforted her as she lay in bed. For the first time since Matt’s disappearance,
she fell asleep quickly. She awoke once in the night because Pookie had a dream and his paws kept twitching against her side. Bonnie smiled as she talked to Pookie and petted him.

When Pookie went out his doggie door the next morning, Bonnie stood in the yard, too, even though it was raining. She knew the danger to Pookie was over, but she wasn’t quite ready to let him be outside by himself.

She took the frayed brown “dog towel” from its hook and wiped Pookie’s paws. Before she could rub down his back he shook vigorously, spraying droplets across the laundry-room floor.

As she came through the kitchen, she heard Mom on the telephone. “To be honest,” Mom said, “we forgot all about it, but I agree it would be good for Bonnie to see her friends and do something fun. Hold on; let me ask her.”

She held the phone away from her mouth. “It’s Nancy’s mom,” she said. “She wants to know if she can pick you up for the baseball game.”

“The Mariners game is today?”

“It starts at one o’clock. Mrs. Tagg is driving Shelly and Kristi—and Nancy, of course. She can pick you up at eleven.”

“It doesn’t seem right for me to go off to a Mariners game when Matt is still missing.”

“I know, honey,” her mother said, “but there’s nothing more you can do to help Matt today, and we already bought your ticket. I think you should go.”

“All right. I’ll go.” How odd, Bonnie thought, that I forgot about the Mariners game. When her track coach had arranged to get tickets at the group price, Bonnie had been thrilled. She had never seen a game at Safeco Field, and it would be great to go with her teammates—thirty-four girls plus the coach and two parents.

“How could I have forgotten about something that seemed like such a big deal?” Bonnie asked her grandma.

“Because losing your brother is a bigger deal,” Grandma said. “But I’m glad you’re going, honey. You’ve done everything you can to help Matt. It’s time you let your life start again.”

“Catch a fly ball for me,” Grandpa said. Then he gave Bonnie twenty dollars for a hot dog or cotton candy or whatever she wanted to buy at the game.

“Thanks, Grandpa.”

“I wish I could go with you,” he said. “I’ll watch the game on television and think about you. Wave if you see a TV camera.”

Mom insisted Bonnie take their bird-watching binoculars. “It’s fun to see the players up close,” she said.

When Bonnie first got in the van with her friends, she felt awkward, as if she’d been away far longer than a week. But when she told them about getting Pookie back, everyone cheered and asked lots of questions. Bonnie relaxed. The other girls told her what had happened at school that week and then they all sang “Take Me Out to the Ball Game,” at the top of their lungs.

By the time Mrs. Tagg parked, the morning’s drizzle had stopped. They strolled past outdoor stands selling peanuts, T-shirts, Cracker Jacks, hot dogs, and various souvenirs. The smell of grilled sausages tempted Bonnie, but she decided to wait and spend her money inside.

They walked alongside Safeco Field, admiring the huge pictures of the players on the outer walls of the stadium. Crowds lined up at the gates. Two people held up hand-lettered signs:
NEED TICKETS
.

“Programs!” called out a man on the corner. “Get your official souvenir programs!”

The girls posed in front of a sculpture of a huge baseball glove while Nancy’s mom took their picture.

Mrs. Tagg cautioned them to keep their ticket stubs
so they could easily find their seats again if they needed to leave during the game. As soon as she went through the turnstile, Bonnie tucked her stub in her jeans pocket. She didn’t plan to miss any of the game, though. She intended to watch every second of her first major-league baseball game.

They rode the escalator to the three-hundred level. Most of the girls bought something to eat before they found their seats, but Bonnie was too excited to feel hungry.

Her first glimpse of the field took her breath away. Green grass, mowed so it created a pattern; crisp white lines around the batter’s box and along the baselines; a huge lighted scoreboard. It looked even better than it did on TV.

Vendors moved up and down the aisles hawking cotton candy, soft drinks, beer, and frozen malts. The peanut man used gestures to communicate with fans several rows away, then expertly flipped the bags of peanuts over his shoulder to the waiting customers. Money passed from person to person until it reached the vendors.

From their seats on the first-base side, the girls had a view of the Mariners’ dugout. Bonnie aimed her binoculars at the players.

The retractable roof was closed because of the rain earlier in the day, but after the girls settled in their seats, the clouds blew away and the roof began to open.

Bonnie laughed as she recognized the music being broadcast: “Let the Sun Shine In.” She watched the huge roof slide into itself on its track until blue sky covered the playing field. She would have to tell Grandpa how it worked. He liked mechanical things, and that roof was amazing.

It felt good to be with her friends and to think about something besides her brother. Then she felt guilty for having fun at Safeco Field when Matt, who loved baseball more than anything, was still missing.

What if he’s never found? Bonnie thought. For the rest of my life, will I feel ashamed every time I start to enjoy myself?

She pushed the gloomy thought away, turned to Nancy, and said, “I hope the Mariners hit a home run today.”

Matt sat on the kitchen floor, watching the digital clock on the oven. Denny had promised they would leave for the ballpark at eleven, and as eleven o’clock passed and then eleven-thirty, Matt’s disappointment grew. He wanted to see batting practice. He wanted to walk around Safeco Field
and look at all the souvenir stands before the game began.

Denny kept making phone calls and checking things on the computer as the clock numbers flashed toward noon. Matt grew more and more nervous that they wouldn’t get to the game at all.

When Denny finally said, “Let’s go,” Matt rushed to the car, forgetting to put on the glasses. Denny made him go back to get them.

By the time they got to Safeco Field, all the parking places on the street were already taken. Denny got angry at the fees charged by the parking lots.

“That’s highway robbery,” he said. “Fifteen bucks to let my car sit for a couple of hours. I have half a mind to go back home. You can watch the game on television.”

“We already have the tickets,” Matt said.

Denny drove farther and farther away from the stadium, looking for a free parking spot. He didn’t find one, so he parked in front of a business with
NO STADIUM PARKING
signs posted on the building. A few other cars had parked there, too. “I’ll take my chances,” Denny said. “They can’t tow everybody.”

As they approached Safeco Field, Matt heard “The Star-Spangled Banner” being sung. He walked faster. “We’re going to miss the first pitch.”

“There’ll be plenty of other pitches.”

Inside the stadium, Denny led the way through crowds of people buying refreshments. Although Matt wished he could have popcorn or an ice cream, he didn’t ask for any because he didn’t want to wait. Overhead television monitors showed the game had already begun.

Their seats were on the second level, past third base toward the outfield. By the time Denny found the correct aisle and then their row, the Mariners were up to bat in the bottom of the first.