sunglasses. “There’ve been more than
sixteen thousand murders in the u.S. in the past twelve months. Almost
a hundred thousand rapes.”
The executive deputy nodded.
Stanforth shrugged. “What’s another fifty?”
AT The PArk
JuNe 04, SAturdAy—McArtHur, oH
W
hen Ashley saw the clown, she knew for sure.
Before that, it had only been a suspicion,
prompted by that inimitable nervous tickle in her
stomach that hinted that she might now be in a
threatening situation, that something bad could happen. Could. But not
fear. Not yet. Not nearly enough to make you grab your two children
and run screaming for the car. That’d be too embarrassing.
The two cars pulled in beside each other on the gravel parking lot.
Both filled with kids, teenagers. Mostly all boys. Why come to a playground? A girl among them. Older. Dirty hair hung over her eyes. Moving strangely.
Ashley turned back to find her daughter still winding through the
top of the park’s small wooden castle. She absently handed little Michael
another pretzel stick and looked back toward where two other mothers
had been having a picnic lunch with their own children. Was overly relieved when she saw they were still there, chatting away.
“Pox,” Michael burbled beside her. “Pox.” Pox, Tik, Mop. The everevolving official language of young Michael Steins, fifteen months.
Made-up words she collected in a small diary to share with him someday.
“Pox,” she smiled. “Pretzels.”
Michael giggled.
Two of the boys had already taken seats at the swings and were
using their feet to twist themselves up in the chains. Another pair was
wrestling atop the seesaw. Fine, Ashley thought. Only trying to recapture some half-remembered joy of childhood. first weeks of summer
vacation. Very holden Caulfield. They’ll be bored in five minutes. The
girl was probably just high.
Ashley fumbled for her cellphone, half remembered she’d left it
in the car. She started packing their things. “honey,” she called out
to Cassie. “honey?” Wanting to get her attention without using her
name. Why, she wondered, was that suddenly so important? her
daughter moving away from her deeper into the castle. Ashley stood
and trailed after her. Clapped her hands. “honey, come on now. Time
to go.”
her daughter turned. “Whyyyyy?” she whined from the top parapet, her dark pigtails hanging over a yellow dress.
“Come down, honey. hurry up.”
The four-year-old scrunched her face in displeasure.
Closer, several of them looked older than teenagers. young men.
“Come on.” Ashley waved her down. Can’t get up there quick
enough. “We’ll get ice creams on the way home.”
“Mikey, too!”
Don’t say his name, baby. Don’t say his damned name.
“yes, yes. Let’s go now, honey.”
A horrible sound. Van doors shutting.
Ashley spun around. The other table suddenly empty. The other
mothers VANISheD. The other children already somehow collected,
small bags of books, toys, McCalls and Pringles already packed. Their
SuV somehow at this very moment backing slowly out of the long
gravel parking lot. Leaving her alone.
With them .
She turned back to her daughter and almost collapsed to the ground
as the whole park seemed to tilt. She was gone. her daughter. Where
74
GeOffrey GIrArD
once there’d been a little girl, there was now nothing. What do I . . . dear
God, this is really happening.
Ashley approached the castle like a half-formed ghost.
She’s gone. She’s really gone. What have these monsters done to my— “Shit!”
her daughter appeared with a squeal at the bottom of the green
tube, sliding to the end until her feet dangled above the mulched
ground.
“Cassie . . . God damn it!”
“What, Mommy?” She climbed off the slide.
“Nothing.” Ashley fought the urge to collapse again. “I’m sorry,
baby. Come on, let’s go.” yanking her back toward the picnic table.
She saw the clown then. Standing perfectly still by the cars. A
sixteen thousand murders in the u.S. in the past twelve months. Almost
a hundred thousand rapes.”
The executive deputy nodded.
Stanforth shrugged. “What’s another fifty?”
AT The PArk
JuNe 04, SAturdAy—McArtHur, oH
W
hen Ashley saw the clown, she knew for sure.
Before that, it had only been a suspicion,
prompted by that inimitable nervous tickle in her
stomach that hinted that she might now be in a
threatening situation, that something bad could happen. Could. But not
fear. Not yet. Not nearly enough to make you grab your two children
and run screaming for the car. That’d be too embarrassing.
The two cars pulled in beside each other on the gravel parking lot.
Both filled with kids, teenagers. Mostly all boys. Why come to a playground? A girl among them. Older. Dirty hair hung over her eyes. Moving strangely.
Ashley turned back to find her daughter still winding through the
top of the park’s small wooden castle. She absently handed little Michael
another pretzel stick and looked back toward where two other mothers
had been having a picnic lunch with their own children. Was overly relieved when she saw they were still there, chatting away.
“Pox,” Michael burbled beside her. “Pox.” Pox, Tik, Mop. The everevolving official language of young Michael Steins, fifteen months.
Made-up words she collected in a small diary to share with him someday.
“Pox,” she smiled. “Pretzels.”
Michael giggled.
Two of the boys had already taken seats at the swings and were
using their feet to twist themselves up in the chains. Another pair was
wrestling atop the seesaw. Fine, Ashley thought. Only trying to recapture some half-remembered joy of childhood. first weeks of summer
vacation. Very holden Caulfield. They’ll be bored in five minutes. The
girl was probably just high.
Ashley fumbled for her cellphone, half remembered she’d left it
in the car. She started packing their things. “honey,” she called out
to Cassie. “honey?” Wanting to get her attention without using her
name. Why, she wondered, was that suddenly so important? her
daughter moving away from her deeper into the castle. Ashley stood
and trailed after her. Clapped her hands. “honey, come on now. Time
to go.”
her daughter turned. “Whyyyyy?” she whined from the top parapet, her dark pigtails hanging over a yellow dress.
“Come down, honey. hurry up.”
The four-year-old scrunched her face in displeasure.
Closer, several of them looked older than teenagers. young men.
“Come on.” Ashley waved her down. Can’t get up there quick
enough. “We’ll get ice creams on the way home.”
“Mikey, too!”
Don’t say his name, baby. Don’t say his damned name.
“yes, yes. Let’s go now, honey.”
A horrible sound. Van doors shutting.
Ashley spun around. The other table suddenly empty. The other
mothers VANISheD. The other children already somehow collected,
small bags of books, toys, McCalls and Pringles already packed. Their
SuV somehow at this very moment backing slowly out of the long
gravel parking lot. Leaving her alone.
With them .
She turned back to her daughter and almost collapsed to the ground
as the whole park seemed to tilt. She was gone. her daughter. Where
74
GeOffrey GIrArD
once there’d been a little girl, there was now nothing. What do I . . . dear
God, this is really happening.
Ashley approached the castle like a half-formed ghost.
She’s gone. She’s really gone. What have these monsters done to my— “Shit!”
her daughter appeared with a squeal at the bottom of the green
tube, sliding to the end until her feet dangled above the mulched
ground.
“Cassie . . . God damn it!”
“What, Mommy?” She climbed off the slide.
“Nothing.” Ashley fought the urge to collapse again. “I’m sorry,
baby. Come on, let’s go.” yanking her back toward the picnic table.
She saw the clown then. Standing perfectly still by the cars. A
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