Here’s another short story. The special theme to this one is “bittersweet”. This tale is a bit different than my norm. Little less horror and more engaging aspect — pulling on your heartstrings. Hope you enjoy it!
TENTH
10/28/19 – The Day Of
“When do I get tippy-toes?” Mattie asked from the backseat as they pulled into the parking lot of Graham Park.
“Oh! I want some! Me too. Me too,” cried his five-year-old sister, Lilly.
From behind her SUV steering wheel, Kelli muttered, “What are you talking about, bud?”
“I heard on TV, the man said, you can reach the box if you stand on your tippy-toes. I am ten now. I want my tippy-toes. I’m grown-up and deserve to have them!” Mattie said proudly, puffing his chest out. The day before was his tenth birthday. His mother, Melissa Brandon had thrown an early Halloween/Birthday party for him and all his little classmates.
Kelli Jarvis, his exasperated nanny barely into her nineteenth year, was exhausted. She had assisted with the party and the late-hour clean-up. “That’s not how it works. It’s only a saying.”
“No,” insisted Lilly, shaking her head. “Mattie is right. We deserve tippies!” She began to drum her hands upon the armrests of her child seat.
“Yeah! We want tippies! We want tippies!” he laughed and chanted with her.
“Settle down, now. Or we can just go back home?” Kelli grumbled.
The siblings dropped the matter immediately. They had been dying to go to the park all day. It had been constantly drizzling and they had been stuck inside, festering with “Bore-dumb Syndrome”.
The public park was decked out with four sets of slides, twin rows of swings and several wooden obstacle structures to play tag around.
They scrambled out of the car and bolted away in a frenzy. Kelli glanced at her phone for the fifteenth time. Jessie still wasn’t answering her texts. She opened up her door and followed the kids into the busy park.
Since the sun was shining for the first time that Saturday, many families were out including two family birthday parties.
Kelli removed her jacket. She tied it around her waist and sat down near the yellow slides. Mattie left his sister and found an empty swing.
Lilly was decked out in a baggy, red onesie. She was still chubby with baby fat and waddled slightly like a duck. Kelli couldn’t help but grin at the cute toddler. Lilly spied her looking at her and waved from the top of the slide.
Her phone buzzed. It was a text.
No. I am going with Brett to the Derby at the Lewiston Fair. Stop asking. I told you this.
Jessie could be so rude. It was their six-month anniversary after all!
Before she could respond, Lilly’s scream cut through the air. The little girl was on her stomach and blood was oozing out from a swollen lip.
Kelli rushed over to assist the wailing child.
Mattie left the swings and walked alone into the Men’s Restroom.
***
Two hours had passed.
First, Kelli strolled about, scanning the park. Then, twenty minutes later, she began calling his name. Her voice was strained and catching people’s attention. Then she was frantic, dragging a sobbing Lilly behind her as she screamed for Mattie. Other parents by this time joined in the search. Matthew Joshua Brandon was nowhere.
“I am sorry, sweetie, it’s time. You have to call his mother. She deserves to know. The police are on the way.” One middle-aged mother advised her.
***
A slender, athletic man walked across the park, holding a clipboard and a walkie-talkie. A gold badge adorned his shoulder. He was young with black hair and a thin babyface.
“Miss Brandon?” he asked, extending his hand. She was sitting on a bench.
She wiped tears away with the back of her hand instead of shaking his. “Yes.”
“Uh… Well, I am Detective Dax Roberts, ma’am. I am lead on your son’s disappearance.”
“Okay,” she mumbled, distracted as a roaring helicopter passed overhead. A brilliant light swept the grounds beneath it.
“We are doing everything—”
“Stop! Stop! I don’t want your placating words, things you were taught in the academy. I just want to know you know how to bring back my little boy!” Her rant melted into a wail. She couldn’t continue.
He squatted low to look into Melissa’s face. He took her hands in his. “I am sorry. I didn’t mean to give the impression I wasn’t seriously involved or dedicated to you. I want you to know, I won’t stop. I won’t back off till we get Mattie back to you.”
8/15/20 – Day of Discovery
Chuck and Daniel were similar in age, appearance and even build. Good old hard-working fellas with some skills and reliable reputations as handymen. They had been hired by the city and on that morning were off in their white work pickup heading to Tandam Pond.
“Investigators are estimating last night’s thunderstorms cost the county over $7 million in property damage. Only minor injuries were reported stemming from a collapsed construction scaffolding. The rest of the week’s weather is expected to be clear.”
“Sounds like we are going to be busy,” Daniel said.
“Sounds good to me. That’s money I can use.”
“You still planning that Chicago trip?”
He nodded as he drove them to the edge of the pond. Three wooden piers had been built here but only one was untouched. Another was completely submerged, the last listing to one side with broken boards sticking up like broken teeth.
Daniel whistled at the site.
***
As Daniel wiggled into his plastic waders, he spotted something floating under the partial pier. It was black and maybe two to three feet long.
“What do you think that is?” he pointed at the debris.
Chuck, who was already at the pond’s edge, shrugged and made his way carefully into the pond.
The water was murky from the silt stirred up from the storm. The object was a duffle bag. Chuck spotted one end was tied with a moss-covered nylon rope. Another piece of the rope was partially secured on the other end but rotted through.
He lifted the black bag out of the water. A sickening stench filled the air around them. Immediately, he lurched backward and thrust the bag away. He bent over and retched his breakfast into the churning water.
“Oh God! Call 911!”
***
Detective Dax Roberts left his car. His heart was beating like a jackhammer. He saw the two handymen who had called the find in. They were noticeably shaken up. Officers were mulling around the pair.
“Detective, we haven’t cut it loose yet. We can–” said a young rookie officer.
“No, I want a pro diver in there. Make sure there’s nothing hidden by the water. I don’t want any mistakes here.” Dax waved him away.
An hour later, the diver rose from the depths of the pond, the bag held in his arms. The outline of a small body in a tight fetal position was clearly evident. A tuft of brown hair stuck out from a zipper on top. The sight would haunt his nightmares for years.
Dax didn’t need DNA or an autopsy to know who was inside the bag.
10/28/29 – The Day to Remember
The detective angled his car into a spot near the main building of Humbolt Cemetery. The day was unusually hot for the time of the year. Dax removed a couple of plain manilla folders from underneath his jacket on the bench seat.
He sat for a few seconds to collect his thoughts. He glanced at the rearview mirror. Quite a few wrinkles had gathered around the edges of his eyes. He had lost his babyface years ago. He rubbed at the black and gray stubble on his chin.
He asked his reflection, “She’s not going to be easy on you. You must know that.” He nodded to himself and shot a look at the folders on his lap. Sighing in resignation, he opened the door.
At the east side of the building, paths were laid out with white gravel. They wound their way over to different plots. He took the path that ascended a small grassy hill with some towering oaks on top. When he crested the hill and stood in the shade of the trees, he spotted Melissa Brandon in a shady section at the bottom. She faced away from him, looking down on a silvery blue headstone.
Dax ran his hand through his hair, smoothing it out as best he could. The detective didn’t say anything as he joined her before Mattie’s final resting place. For several minutes, they remained silent.
Finally, she said, “Thank you, Detective Roberts for agreeing to meet me here. It’s rather nice, isn’t it?” She was looking up, scanning the woody area ahead of them. A short, black iron fence ran along the northside and continued along the west border of the cemetery. A lazy stream cut through diagonally and meandered further east to skirt the grass hill.
“Yes. That it is, Miss—”
“Oh please, call me Melissa,” she interrupted him.
“Okay, Melissa. You found him a very proper lot with a beautiful view,” he said awkwardly. He was uncomfortable and fumbled for his words. This meeting was highly unusual and technically, he could face some repercussions for allowing it.
Yet, she deserved something, didn’t she? He thought to himself.
“I know you expect I am here to chew you out or throw a fit or such. But I’m not,” she said and looked at him with a genuine smile. “I wouldn’t do that here. And there’s not much good that would do.”
“The case is still open. The investigation has grown cold, but you never know. Sometimes it just takes one thing to break…” His words faded off as she shook her head slowly, a tear trailing down.
“I already know that. I became a true crime junkie after all that happened. Hell, I became a lot after your call that night to let me know, the identification was positive.”
He still had no words, had no way to relate to the profound loss she had as a mother. He waited for her to continue.
She returned to studying his headstone. “I lost myself in booze, lost my job, nearly lost my girls. My sponsor finally hit home with me. Said that someone stole my child and took the wonderful years he had ahead of him. A life that was meant for great things. I could let him keep that or I could take it back, live my life in honor of him. Find a positive way to move forward. Not ‘move on’ but ‘move forward’. I liked that!
“I work again, but now from home. I do tax work for six months then the other six I spend with my girls and my grandson, Marcus. I also volunteer at a non-profit organization that focuses on other grieving parents like me. We are a resource to offer therapy, provide networking and even assist in funding for investigations. My life before Mattie was taken was so different… so selfish. I could’ve been there at the park that day. I thought it was more important for me to finalize a product presentation—”
“No, don’t do that, ma’am. I mean, Melissa. Don’t put that guilt on yourself. Mattie was targeted. Your good intentions of providing for your family didn’t make your son vulnerable to what happened.”
“I realize that. It took a lot of soul-searching to find a way to forgive myself for what I had no control of. Anyway, I was a mess, but things have come together after all this time.”
She spotted the folders in his hand. “Will those get you in serious trouble, Dax?”
He shrugged. “Nothing I can’t really handle. In a few years, I am due for a promotion or retirement. Either way, it’s not more important than the promise I made to you ten years ago.”
Dax handed the copies of the case files over to her. They had his preliminary findings and the police reports of the day her son was taken. Everything he had done then and every step he took after the Feds stepped in.
“What isn’t in there is something I cannot give to you in documentation. After his remains were found, the CSI labs found trace amounts of red paint chips on his clothing. The FBI immediately took the case from me going forward.”
“Oh, I know. That FBI Task force is a black hole. They suck all the information in, any progress, any evidence, everything. Suck it all in and refuse to share any insight with us. Nine years of stonewall silence.”
“I have kept tabs with a contact in the Bureau. I can tell you there are no suspects, but there are plenty of rumors and opinions. Seems your son matched with a string of other murders. The red chips of paint, the gender and the age. Even the Tenth month of the year. It all –”
“Was he… messed with? Raped?” she asked, her lips quivering.
“They don’t think he was. He and the others showed no signs of it.”
“Oh, thank God.”
“The task force will not release anything to anyone because should this guy make a mistake. They need the details to be sure they have the right person, you understand? They can’t find him yet and they cannot be sure of how many other boys. I am only telling you this as I want you to know I haven’t forgotten. Your son still matters to me and a lot of people.”
“I didn’t doubt your words and your dedication. Yet, after all this time, I really don’t need justice. It won’t change what happened. My boy was returned to me. I have met parents who have never had their answers, never had closure. I buried my little angel. Do I want the man caught? Of course! But I refuse to let this end my life. I have my girls and I owe it to them to be there for them too.”
She goes quiet, continues to quietly weep. That is when he spots an odd engraving cut into the left corner of the gravestone. Dax stoops then squats down to get a better look at it. It was a QR Code.
“That links to a website I have as memoriam for Mattie. The site has a video we took of him on his last night. He’s in his little Frankenstein costume pretending to be scared of the candles on his birthday cake. ‘Ooo fire! Fire bad, mommy.’ He was so funny and so curious about everything.” She went silent again.
“You see, Detective, while that bastard took and killed my son, his spirit remains here in my chest. Living on in my heart where no one can dare ever take him again. Mattie is forever.”
Dax rubbed his fingers over the engraving and nodded in agreement.
The Official Website of Author Derek Barton 