The Child: Episode 2
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I lifted the boy to his feet and trudged toward the car. “Sit tight,” I said. “I’ll be right back.”
I crept towards the woods to retrieve my phone, suddenly irritated the runt had thrown it. What would possess a kid to do that? Maybe that’s why someone left him lying in the ditch.
I scanned the ground, but didn’t see the phone. My bladder was about to explode. I unzipped my pants and stepped into the shadows to relieve myself. A soon as I finished, I turned back toward the car and felt a crunch under my left foot. Dammit. I picked up the phone. Cracked screen, but still lit up. Freaking brat.
Back in the car, the boy downed the backwash from my last Diet Coke.
“You must really be thirsty,” I said. He nodded. “You live nearby?” He wagged his head. “What happened? Someone hit you?” It somehow sounded inappropriate, so I added, “with a car?” He shook his head again. “Wanna tell me what happened?” He lowered his chin. “Any parents or relatives nearby?” He folded his arms across his chest. “What’s your name? My name’s Mark.”
With every question, he shut down more. God, I was terrible at this. Olivia used to tell me I was scared of being a father. She’d wanted kids, but I wasn’t interested. Life had made me familiar enough with my failures. Didn’t need to bring another human into the world to produce evidence.
The boy leaned his head against the seatbelt and closed his eyes. “Okay then. Porter Medical Center’s about half an hour away, but I’ll get you there soon as I can.” Before I could put it in gear, his eyes went wide, and he clawed at my arm. “Whoa, whoa! Take it easy—I’m not gonna hurt ya! Just need to get you back where you belong, okay?” He stopped but locked eyes with me. I swear I saw a flash of yellow. “Look, if you were… if somebody hurt you, I can help. I can call for help. Or take you somewhere safe. The hospital won’t let anyth — ”
The boy shrieked an ear-piercing scream, and I covered my ears.
We stared at each other for a long moment. “No ambulance?” He nodded. “And no hospitals?” He smiled. “Okay then.” I shook my head, put the car in gear. The boy’s eyes widened and he covered his face with his hands. He held that posture most of the drive.
With my foot heavy on the pedal, we headed to the only place open in Middlebury on a Sunday night: My house.
As I pulled into the driveway, the boy bolted from the car before I even stopped, and burst through the front door of my house. I couldn’t remember the last time I cared about locking doors. No one in Middlebury cares about locking doors. But no one in Middlebury picks up a random kid on the side of the road and brings them home, either. What the hell was I thinking?
I put it in park, grabbed my phone and considered calling the police. Maybe someone was looking for this kid. Maybe they’re even offering a reward for his safe return. “Wouldn’t that be a miracle?” I whispered to myself. But something told me it wasn’t a day for miracles. Felt more like a day for curses.
I looked up and nearly jumped out of my skin. The boy was standing on the other side of my car window, glaring at me. I jumped out of the car, second guessing my decision to bring him home. Had I just kidnapped a kid? Was anyone even looking for him? I hadn’t heard him say a single word. Wait, that’s not true. He’d muttered something. Galinder? It sounded familiar, but I couldn’t place it.
The fading October sky ushered in a shrill breeze. I shivered, even though I enjoyed the cold. “Come on,” I said, “Let’s get you cleaned up and fed.”
I ran a hot bath for him and scrounged up what I thought might work as ‘kid clothes,’ consisting of an old pair of navy sweatpants and a plaid shirt that made me look fat. He took them and offered a deep bow. “No problemo, bud,” I said, ushering him off to the bathroom. His eyes went wide, and he hesitated. “It’s okay,” I assured him. “I won’t come in. You’ll have privacy.” He went in somewhat reluctantly. I shut the door behind him and went to drum up some dinner. Found a couple of frozen hamburger patties in the freezer and the last of an onion in the fridge. Pour some BBQ sauce on that and you’ve got something that’ll erect a good heartburn and stave off hunger til the next day.
As I was frying the patties in a skillet, I heard a strange sound coming from the bathroom, like something smacking the floor. Then it hit me. Did he leave the water running? I ran to the bathroom and without thinking, threw open the door. The tub was overflowing, spilling water all over the hardwood. “Shut it off!” I shouted. He leaped out of the tub and streaked through the living room, heading for the front door. I shut the water off and went after him, slipping on the wet floor.
He was standing by the car, stark naked, shivering in the nighttime air. “Come on, man! Come inside.” He didn’t move, just kept his arms wrapped around his body. “You’ll freeze to death out here. Come in.” Then I realized I had yelled and probably scared him senseless. “I’m not mad. I just…” It wasn’t worth explaining. “Just come in and get dressed. Dinner’s almost ready.”
He turned and marched in, and I froze in my tracks.
His back was painted with tattoos — not an inch of skin showing.
I darted to the bathroom, grabbed a towel and the clothes.
He wrapped the towel around his waist and stared at me. As if sensing my curiosity, he turned and showed me his back.
Strange markings and something like an ancient map surrounded by symbols dressed him from the base of his neck to his waist. Various markings were woven into the carefully crafted ink, coupled with a language that I couldn’t read, though the characters resembled Russian.
CHOOSE YOUR NEXT MOVE:
Contact your department chair at the college to help you decipher what’s written on the boy’s back?
— OR —
Drive the boy to the police station to discover where he belongs?
The Child is an interactive puzzle fiction story. If you’ve stumbled onto this episode without reading the beginning, you can start at Episode One here.
