Broken Crosses {excerpts}

The relentless chirping sound of Scott’s smart phone finally penetrated his sleep. He opened his eyes and looked at the red numbers on the digital clock that sat quietly on the nightstand. Sleep had temporarily blurred his forty year old eyes; once they adjusted he read the numbers, 2:18 A.M. The smart phone chirped the message reminder impatiently again. He picked up the phone, his eyes having to adjust again, and saw Karen’s picture on the small screen. At the bottom of the screen the “New text msg.” banner flashed. Scott tapped the screen,

Karen 1:58 A.M. Daddy, ima in trouble

 Twenty minutes had passed since his daughter had sent the message. “In trouble”, what did that mean? Suddenly Scott remembered that Karen wasn’t home, she had gone to the Pond with her friends. Panic, worry, uncertainty, they all raced through Scott’s mind at warp speeds waking him up completely. He sat up and swung legs over the side of the bed. Twenty minutes! How did he not hear the annoying sounds of his phone for twenty minutes? Scott had always been a light sleeper, as of late that had changed. He always felt tired and sleep was cherished and deep.

He read the message again. “Daddy, ima in trouble.” Scott carefully dialed the numbers that would connect him to his daughter’s phone. Long seconds ticked off before he heard the ringing of his daughter’s phone; five, six, seven, eight rings. “Come on! Answer the phone Karen!”

A robotic feminine voice finally answered, “The person at 802…” Scot slid his thumb across the screen to disconnect the call and immediately tapped “redial”. The robot’s metallic voice greeted him again after just one ring, “The person at 8…” Scott disconnected again. The thought of leaving his daughter a voice message never occurred to Scott, not that it would have done any good considering her current situation.

Scott turned on the lamp beside his bed. He stood and walked to the door of his bedroom and turned on the overhead light. He looked around the room as if Karen may be there. He opened the door and walked into the hallway, the cold floors greeting his bare feet. Karen’s room was down the hall to the right, he headed there first. The door to Karen’s room was open part way, Scott could see the empty bed even before entering the room and turning on yet another light. The black comforter, outlined in brilliant purples lay undisturbed on the bed. Karen’s habit of making her bed every day had stayed true, having made it before leaving for the weekend away. Scott glanced around his daughter’s room, hopeful again that she was playing an innocent game of hide and seek. He reminded himself that she was no longer the little girl that used to hide each evening in an attempt to delay the end of the day. “She isn’t home Scott “, he heard an inner voice state factually.

Scott turned and left her room, leaving the overhead light on. He walked down the hallway until he reached the door of Jake’s room. He cracked the door enough to see his son lying on the bed. He could hear deep shallow breathing that only comes with equally deep sleep. Scott decided not to disturb his son. He closed the door. The latch sounded loudly in the stillness of the home.

He stood there with his hand still on the crystal doorknob. He tried to remember the names of Karen’s friends. It was white space, the names would not appear. Did he even have their numbers or their parent’s numbers if he was able to recall their names? Scott had always made it a practice to know the names and addresses of all her friends. He had even known the parent’s names, making efforts to meet them face to face. When had he stopped doing that?

Kyla! That was her name. No, not Kyla it was Kayla. Kayla what? He remembered that her father was a doctor.  “Doctor….blank?” Did he ever know her last name? He thought Kayla was a spoiled brat, but Karen seemed to adore her so Scott never shared this observation with his daughter. He remembered thinking that she was the kind of girl that wouldn’t mind getting in trouble if it meant having some fun. Had something bad happened at the Pond that started out as fun?

Scott turned and headed back to his bedroom. He would try calling Karen once more; if she didn’t answer then he would make the drive to Hinesburg Pond and find his daughter. He ignored the common sense ambassador that whispered quietly to him the impossibilities of finding anyone at the Pond in the middle of the night. He wouldn’t even know what kind of car to look for. Were they in a rental cabin or did Kayla’s doctor dad own a lakeside home? Common sense and impossibilities didn’t matter; his paternal instincts were tugging with relentless determination.

He heard his cell phone ringing just as he entered the master bedroom door. The ring was the familiar tune that told him his daughter was calling. “Thank God”, he said to the empty room.

He tapped the screen, “Karen, what’s going on?”

It wasn’t his daughter’s voice that answered in reply.

“Mister Kelso?” The voice was crisp and carried the tone of authority.

“Yes, I’m Scott Kelso. Who is this?”

“Mister Kelso, this is Detective Robert Ryan. I am with the Burlington Police Department.”

Scott stopped breathing. Memories from a similar phone call so long ago flooded in.

Order now-Broken Crosses