For the first time in the last three years Glenda felt in charge of the situation. Her in-laws had played a trick on her and had lost. Wow! It was time for a celebration. She’d treat herself and her little boy to a real restaurant, a new one she had seen on Caradoc.
The diner was fairly dark, with big television screens in three corners. Two broadcasted sports, the other news, closed-captioned. Costumers were lining up to get a table and Glenda watched the news. They reported a little boy seen roaming around by himself after the Christmas parade. The description followed: about three-years old, wearing red boots and a green elf hat. At the bottom of the screen there was a number to call if anybody had information. Glenda glanced around. They had at least another half hour wait and she was hungry, and probably Norbert was too. She took Norbert out of the restaurant and drove to the nearby McDonald’s take-out. She knew chicken nuggets and French fries would make her boy happy. She looked for a quiet parking spot and divided the food into three portions. Norbert wasn’t very hungry and gave Zufolo most of his share. At the end of the parking lot stood a cabin with a phone, and a daring idea took form in Glenda’s mind. She walked there, removed a tissue out from her purse, and dialed the number she’d just seen on TV. In a muffled voice she reported seeing a boy fitting the description getting out of a blue Ford Ram and being taken inside a home on Head St. She added the street number.
When she returned to her car, Norbert pulled on her sleeve. It meant he wanted to talk to her, so she turned on the light.
“Can I have an ice cream?”
“Sure.” She caressed her boy’s hair. “What about a little exercise?” Norbert nodded and together they walked back to the McDonald’s. They sat at a table and leisurely savored a sundae and coke. She wondered if Norbert had been drugged, since he’d gulped down a full bottle of water while they were in the car and now he slurped down his coke. Well, the evening would soon be over. She just needed to take a peek at the house of the disbarred lawyer.
She arrived none too early. Three police cars flashed their lights near Mr. Donalson’s property and two officers dragged the old lawyer out of the house. He was screaming and gesturing.
“Can you repeat what the man is saying?” Glenda asked Norbert.
Norbert complied and she looked attentively at her boy’s lips.
“I don’t know anything about a kidnapping!” The man flung his arms up. “Mr. Otto Schmit asked me if I could look after the boy. Ask him! He lives on Metcalfe! Ask him!”
The officer who held the red boots and the elf hat rushed inside a cruiser and talked on the radio. Soon after he took off, followed by another police car.
Glenda had seen enough for one day; it was time to go home and have a rest.
The moment Norbert entered the house he became alive; he threw a ball and expected Zufolo to retrieve it. As usual, Zufolo was game and gently deposited the ball close to his playmate. Then the dog pulled on Glenda’s sweater, signaling an incoming call. Glenda went to the phone and turned on her old TTY, a device that allowed her to see the telephone messages she couldn’t hear. The printed version of the incoming call was from a TV reporter who asked her if she’d grant her an interview.
“I can’t hear,” Glenda voiced into the speaker. “I’m also very tired.”
Another typed message came in. “I’m outside your house. I promise it won’t take more than 10 minutes. I’d use the TTY device to talk to you, but I’d like to have the chance to shoot a couple of pictures.”
Through the door glass Glenda saw a TV van with the inscription Channel 10 News. This could be an occasion to tell about the intimidation and the bullying she’d been suffering over the last three years. Yes, she’d be happy to grant the interview.
“Norbert, go open the door. Say hello to the lady while I go comb my hair.”