technique, Jamie grinning in anticipation as he holds out his microphone to ask even sixty-year-olds, “What do you want to be when you grow up?”
The beaches here on the Cape are not too terribly crowded, even in high season, so Alice or Eddie can keep the children in sight as Jamie conducts his “interviews.” But on this day…
They are discussing something important. Beaches tend to encourage deep discussions about important matters.
She doesn’t remember now what they were discussing. Perhaps buying a boat. Perhaps deliberating whether they can afford to buy even a used boat; they always seem to be discussing money, or the lack of money, when suddenly…
“Where are the kids?”
This from Eddie.
Alice looks up.
“Where are the kids?” he asks again. “Do you see them?”
She looks up the beach. She cannot see them anywhere. She is on her feet at once. So is Eddie.
“Did they come back this way?” he asks.
“No, I don’t think so.”
“Did we miss them?”
Alice’s heart is racing now.
“They didn’t go in the water, did they?” she asks.
“You go that way!” he says, and points, and she immediately begins running up the beach. Eddie is off in the opposite direction.
“Ashley!” she yells. “Jamie!”
Running. Her eyes scanning the water. She does not see them anywhere in the water. Nor does she see them anywhere on the beach. What…? Where…?
“Excuse me, did you see a little boy pretending to be a television reporter?”
Coming toward this end of the beach, the bathers and baskers thinning out now, still no sign of the children, oh dear God, please say they haven’t gone in the water, please say they haven’t been carried out to sea! She turns, comes running back down the beach, her eyes darting from sand to sea, and suddenly…
There.
Coming out of the tan brick building near the parking lot.
“Ashley!” she yells.
She rushes to the children, hugs them close.
“You scared me to death!” she says.
“Jamie had to pee,” Ashley says.
“What do you want to be when you grow up?” Jamie asks, grinning, and holds out the shovel to Alice.
The woman calls again at a few minutes before ten. “Listen to me carefully,” she says. “All you have to remember is that we have your children. If you don’t come to that gas station alone, your children will die. If you don’t have the money with you, your children will die. If anyone tries to detain me, your children will die. If I’m not back where I’m supposed to be in half an hour, your children will die. That’s all you have to know. See you tomorrow at ten.”
She hangs up.
“Twenty-three seconds,” Sally says.
The grandfather clock strikes ten P . M .
In exactly twelve hours, Alice will be delivering the ransom money. But the woman’s words keep echoing in her head. Your children will die, your children will die, your children will die.
Friday
May 14
5
The Tamiami Trail may once have been a dirt road hacked out through the palmettos and palms, but that was long before Alice moved down here.
Today, U.S. 41 is a four- (and sometimes six-) lane concrete thoroughfare lined for miles and miles with fast food emporiums, gift shops, car washes, gasoline stations, pizzerias, furniture stores, nurseries, carpet salesrooms, automobile dealers, shopping malls, movie theater complexes, and a variety of one-story cinder-block shops selling plaster figurines, citrus fruit, discount clothing, rattan pool and garden furniture, cigarettes and beer (free ice if you buy a case), stereo equipment, lamps, vacuum cleaners, typewriters, burglar alarms, swimming pools, and (the only such shop in all Cape October) adult marital aids, games, and related reading material.
Alice is familiar with the Shell station on Lewiston Point Road because the road itself dead-ends at the ferry landing where you catch the boat to Crescent Island, not a thousand yards off the southern end of Tall Grass. Crescent is the least developed of
The beaches here on the Cape are not too terribly crowded, even in high season, so Alice or Eddie can keep the children in sight as Jamie conducts his “interviews.” But on this day…
They are discussing something important. Beaches tend to encourage deep discussions about important matters.
She doesn’t remember now what they were discussing. Perhaps buying a boat. Perhaps deliberating whether they can afford to buy even a used boat; they always seem to be discussing money, or the lack of money, when suddenly…
“Where are the kids?”
This from Eddie.
Alice looks up.
“Where are the kids?” he asks again. “Do you see them?”
She looks up the beach. She cannot see them anywhere. She is on her feet at once. So is Eddie.
“Did they come back this way?” he asks.
“No, I don’t think so.”
“Did we miss them?”
Alice’s heart is racing now.
“They didn’t go in the water, did they?” she asks.
“You go that way!” he says, and points, and she immediately begins running up the beach. Eddie is off in the opposite direction.
“Ashley!” she yells. “Jamie!”
Running. Her eyes scanning the water. She does not see them anywhere in the water. Nor does she see them anywhere on the beach. What…? Where…?
“Excuse me, did you see a little boy pretending to be a television reporter?”
Coming toward this end of the beach, the bathers and baskers thinning out now, still no sign of the children, oh dear God, please say they haven’t gone in the water, please say they haven’t been carried out to sea! She turns, comes running back down the beach, her eyes darting from sand to sea, and suddenly…
There.
Coming out of the tan brick building near the parking lot.
“Ashley!” she yells.
She rushes to the children, hugs them close.
“You scared me to death!” she says.
“Jamie had to pee,” Ashley says.
“What do you want to be when you grow up?” Jamie asks, grinning, and holds out the shovel to Alice.
The woman calls again at a few minutes before ten. “Listen to me carefully,” she says. “All you have to remember is that we have your children. If you don’t come to that gas station alone, your children will die. If you don’t have the money with you, your children will die. If anyone tries to detain me, your children will die. If I’m not back where I’m supposed to be in half an hour, your children will die. That’s all you have to know. See you tomorrow at ten.”
She hangs up.
“Twenty-three seconds,” Sally says.
The grandfather clock strikes ten P . M .
In exactly twelve hours, Alice will be delivering the ransom money. But the woman’s words keep echoing in her head. Your children will die, your children will die, your children will die.
Friday
May 14
5
The Tamiami Trail may once have been a dirt road hacked out through the palmettos and palms, but that was long before Alice moved down here.
Today, U.S. 41 is a four- (and sometimes six-) lane concrete thoroughfare lined for miles and miles with fast food emporiums, gift shops, car washes, gasoline stations, pizzerias, furniture stores, nurseries, carpet salesrooms, automobile dealers, shopping malls, movie theater complexes, and a variety of one-story cinder-block shops selling plaster figurines, citrus fruit, discount clothing, rattan pool and garden furniture, cigarettes and beer (free ice if you buy a case), stereo equipment, lamps, vacuum cleaners, typewriters, burglar alarms, swimming pools, and (the only such shop in all Cape October) adult marital aids, games, and related reading material.
Alice is familiar with the Shell station on Lewiston Point Road because the road itself dead-ends at the ferry landing where you catch the boat to Crescent Island, not a thousand yards off the southern end of Tall Grass. Crescent is the least developed of
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