Page 109 of Gone Tonight
I didn’t have a car or any friends whose couch we could crash on until I got myself together. So I went back to Target.
You were a very quiet kid. I wasn’t too worried you’d cry when the lights turned off. But I bought insurance—one of those Ring Pops that are shaped like pacifiers. You’d never tasted candy before, and the moment I popped it into your mouth, your eyes lit up.
I followed my old routine, waiting until a minute or two before closing time to climb into the circular rack with you in my arms. I whispered into your ear, telling you the lights were going to turn off but that mama would keep you safe. You looked up at me with your round blue eyes, your mouth working that cherry Ring Pop like you were scared someone was going to take it away before you could finish it.
Thirty minutes later, we were climbing out of the clothes rack. We had the whole store to ourselves.
I wanted to make it fun for you—a kind of adventure. So the first thing we did after getting a flashlight was grab a red plastic shopping basket and wander through the aisles, choosing anything we wanted for a picnic. I picked Fruit Roll-Ups and pretzels and lemonade juice boxes. You added a package of Oreos. There was a little table and chairs set up in the kids’ section, so we sat there and ate until we were full.
Then the real fun began.
We walked through the clothing section, picking things we wanted to try on. You looked so cute in everything that I wanted to get it all for you, but in the end we settled on tiny red corduroy pants with a soft cream-colored shirt and little sneakers with Velcro instead of laces. I got new jeans and a hoodie, and we both put on clean socks and underwear.
I’d saved the best for last. We went to the toy section next.
Oh, Catherine—the look on your face when I told you that you could pick any toy you wanted. It was as if you couldn’t quite believe it, as if nothing this good had ever happened to you before.
You walked up and down the aisle for what felt like an hour, staring at different items as I shone the flashlight on them: A doll with long red hair. A set of mini pots and pans with plastic food. Puzzles and marble mazes and brightly colored blocks.
You finally chose a soft, stuffed brown-and-white puppy with floppy ears.
It was easy to cut away the packaging and security tag. The scissors were still available in the office supply section.
Next, I picked some chunky Sandra Boynton books and we settled into the big beanbag chair together. I read to you until you fell asleep, your warm body nestled next to mine.
I meant to carry you back to our hiding spot, but my eyes were so heavy and we were so cozy. I shut them just for a moment.
Heavy footsteps woke me.
I opened my eyes and a sharp light blinded me. I winced as I strainedto see what was happening. The overhead lights were on in the store, and someone was walking toward us.
Sheer panic turned my legs to liquid. I wrapped my arms around you more tightly, trying to sink deeper into the beanbag chair.
A tall shape loomed over us.
We were completely helpless. Terror paralyzed me. I couldn’t even cry out.
A man in blue coveralls was staring down at us.
I croaked out the word please.
The man kept looking at us, not saying anything.
I thought he must have broken in, too. Maybe he was planning to rob the place.
He pressed his index finger to his lips.
I nodded vigorously, trying to convey that we’d be quiet, that we’d never say a word. I didn’t care if he stole everything in the store and both of our bags with all of our belongings. As long as he didn’t hurt us, nothing else mattered.
Then I heard more voices. I could tell they belonged to another man and a woman.
My eyes had adjusted by now. I could see a cleaning cart next to the man. He was young—probably just a few years older than me. He was just trying to make a living.
I exhaled and my body relaxed a fraction, but we still weren’t safe. If this man called the police, I could be arrested and you could be taken from me. And that would only be the beginning of it. The police might be able to learn my real identity.
I’d counted on everything in Target staying the same. I didn’t realize the cleaning crew had switched hours from early morning to late at night.
I’d made a terrible mistake.
