Day Out of Days Read Online Free Page B

we then?” I stumble on without really wanting to.
    “We were kids,” she says.
    “Were we?”
    “
I
was anyway. I know that much.”
    “Kids—yeah, I guess.”
    “How many do you have?” she asks and her green eyes come to meet mine and the little twinge of sadness I’d been feeling turns to an undertow.
    “You mean children?” She nods and her eyes stay hooked to me.
    “I’ve got a whole bunch,” I say.
    “How many?” she insists.
    “Five. But not all with the same woman.”
    “That doesn’t surprise me.” She smiles.
    “How about you?” I ask.
    “Two. I have two girls.”
    “Two. That’s great. Where are they?” I say.
    “Here. Well, I mean—”
    “That’s right, you’re from Indianapolis, aren’t you?”
    “Yes, I am. You remember that!” She smiles.
    “I remember your dad calling, back then. When we were sitting on the bed eating that stuff.”
    “Wheat germ.”
    “Right. He called to tell you there was a riot going on in your front yard. So it
must
have been sixty-eight, wasn’t it? That was when there was a riot every other day.”
    “Must’ve been.”
    “Martin Luther King and—”
    “Right.”
    “Everything exploding. Detroit. L.A.”
    “The whole world on fire.”
    “Seemed like.”
    “Well.” She pauses, fishing for something more. “I didn’t mean to—I mean, I was so shocked when I walked through the door and saw you sitting here. I couldn’t believe it. I knew it was you as soon as I saw you, but … I thought, I can’t just walk on by and not say anything. You know—just go on up to my room and pretend it wasn’t you. I had to come back down and say something. I mean—all this time.”
    “No, I’m glad you did. It’s great to see you.”
    “What in the world are you doing here? In Indianapolis.”
    “Just passing through.”
    “Oh—”
    “How about you? I mean, if you live here how come you’re in a Holiday Inn?” Everything stops. She goes suddenly numb and her lips start to tremble. For some reason, the background sounds seem to have gone silent, unless it’s a pause between the reels. The girl at the desk stares at us now, as though she suspects something illegal is going on.
    “My husband—” she says, and halts on the words. “My husband disappeared a month and a half ago. He—just took off.”
    “Oh, no,” I say.
    “He took the girls.”
    “No—”
    “He may have left the country.” I find myself standing and making a feeble gesture toward comforting her but I’d rather be running out the door.
    “Have you—I mean, do you have help?” My mouth has gone dry. “Police? Lawyers?”
    “Yes, I’ve gone through all that.”
    “That’s a pretty serious—I mean, that’s considered kidnapping, isn’t it?”
    “It
is
kidnapping.”
    “Have you got any clues? I mean—”
    “We’ve followed some credit card debits, you know, gas stations, restaurants, but it’s all led to dead ends. Everything winds up in Florida and just stops.”
    “Florida?”
    “He has some family down there.”
    “What about the girls? How old are they?”
    “Twelve and sixteen. There’s still some investigation going on at the house so that’s why I can’t stay there.”
    “Oh.”
    “I just took a room here for the time being. I’m kind of in limbo, I guess.” She casts her arm out limply and the blue bandana flutters up like a distant flag of truce. Her eyes scan the two plasma screens as the screaming and the gunfire start up again. “I’m sorry,” she says. “I didn’t mean to lay all this on you. I just saw you sitting here when I came in and thought—”
    “No, that’s okay. I’m glad you—It’s just great to see you again.”
    She laughs, then breaks down, but quickly recovers herself and turns her shoulder to me. I move to console her, but she turns her back completely and crosses her arms on her chest again. The desk clerk girl is heading straight for me across the lobby with herlaminated name tag pinned to her breast