Mary’s Son (12 page)

THE boys hid in the bushes and made sure no security guards were near before Jared reached up and pushed the window open. One by one, the others followed him over the sill, into the room. They were agile and quick in their movements, making virtually no sound until Hammer slid to the ground and accidentally kicked a small table upon which a
lamp rested. It toppled to the rug with a thud and then rolled to a stop after hitting the base of the desk. The boys stopped and waited breathlessly for the final thunk of the lamp’s contact with the desk and then waited longer, nerves on edge, poised to dive in unison back out the window.

After several seconds, which seemed like an eternity, Jared finally stood. The others warily joined him. They stared hard into the darkness of the room and gradually satisfied themselves that Hammer’s clumsiness had not derailed them. Jared led the others to the front of the desk, where he began to fidget with the second drawer, access to which would reveal the riches they all believed awaited them.

As the boys focused on their leader’s efforts and M.J. was handing him the crowbar he carried, the room’s overhead light suddenly blazed to life. Its intensity was magnified by their heightened senses; they were all blinded and frozen for a second. M.J. dropped the crowbar. The others turned and stood, terrified, as their eyes adjusted. Nicholas was standing at the light switch. Immediately, Burner, Hammer, and M.J. ran and dove out the open window. Jared tripped over the crowbar, jumped back to his feet, and ran to the window, which slammed shut before him. It would not budge as he struggled to open it. In desperation he struck it with his fist, but the window held.

Outside, the other boys picked themselves up and ran.

Jared continued to pound on the window with all his might, to no avail.

“You won’t get out that way,” Nicholas said.

The boy whirled sharply, a trapped animal looking for any escape. His eyes were wide as he crouched and glanced to each window in the room. They were all shut.

“They’re sealed, son,” Nicholas continued.

Jared glared at Nicholas until he suddenly remembered the gun at his waist. He fumbled at his belt and withdrew it. He pointed it with shaky hands at Nicholas.

“Let me outta here!” he warned viciously.

“Put the gun down,” Nicholas was calm. He stepped toward the boy. “This isn’t the way.”

“I’ll shoot, old man. Let me outta here,” the boy warned.

“You don’t need this. Please put the gun down.”

“You don’t know what I need.”

“You need hope. This is not the way. Stealing won’t help any of you,” Nicholas said as he took yet another step toward the boy.

“You don’t know anything about me,” Jared blurted. His eyes again searched the room for an escape. “This is the only way. Now let me out.”

“I know you well, Jared,” Nicholas soothed. “Your father has left you. You have taken on his responsibility, my boy.
The world owes you and your family. Perhaps it is the Stones who owe you,” he continued as he stepped closer still. “But you forgot the most important thing about this season. It has nothing to do with taking or receiving. It’s about giving.”

“Yeah,” the boy stood straight, “tell that to the rich folks. I got nothing to give.”

“Yes, you have, son. You have yourself. You also have a heart with which you can do much good. You just have to stop being angry and find it again. Now, please put the gun down.”

“Stay back!” Jared warned again, clearly not interested in hearing more.

Nicholas stopped his advance only three steps away from the boy and held his hand out in front of him requesting the gun. Suddenly, the library door opened and Sarah burst into the room. All chance of a peaceful resolution disappeared. Jared was startled yet again. He swung the gun in Sarah’s direction and fired. Nicholas reached for him and shouted, “Jared…No!”

THE band was ending a dance number when the crack of the gunshot thundered through the tent. All heads turned and Jonas immediately ran out with Stevens, Miss Grundick, and others fast on his heels.

Anna, frantic at what she may have been part of, met Jonas in the hall and pointed to the library, eyes wide with shock.

“It will not open,” Anna shouted.

“What happened?” demanded Jonas.

“Miss Sarah,” Anna stammered as she pointed at the bolted door. “She went in…I heard a gun.”

Jonas grabbed the door handle and tried with all his strength to open it, but it wouldn’t budge.

“Sarah!” he shouted and pounded on the door. He turned to Stevens. “The key, Stevens!”

Stevens fumbled with the keys before handing them to Jonas.

“I tried the key,” Anna cried. “It did not work.”

Jonas tried anyway. It didn’t work. A crowd gathered around him. Everyone stared at the doors for several seconds until they were suddenly blinded by a bright flash of light that burst through the cracks between, under, and above the doors.

“Sarah!” Jonas shouted again before he directed Stevens and Sam Wyatt to join him. They stepped back and ran together into the door. The door splintered on its hinges but held until Stevens and Wyatt hit it again. This time it crashed open, and Jonas ran in.

No one was in the room.

A gun lay abandoned near the far window, and people scurried about in search of any sign of Sarah. All windows were locked. In the distance sirens blared, and from far back in the crowd of onlookers, a commotion arose.

Jonas turned to the commotion, frantic and shocked to find his daughter gone. A potbellied security guard pushed his way into the room and approached Jonas.

“Mr. Stone,” the guard started, “we caught three punks at the side of the house. I think they were trying to break in. They didn’t get anything. We called the cops.”

“You caught them?” Jonas asked. “Is Sarah…?”

The guard turned before Jonas could finish and directed other guards to drag Hammer, Burner, and M.J. forward. The guards threw the boys to the ground before Jonas, their hands cuffed tightly behind their backs.

“Where’s Sarah?” he asked almost trance-like.

“What’s that, sir?” asked the potbellied guard.

“Where is my daughter?” Jonas glared at the guard. “My daughter, Sarah, was in here when the gun went off.”

“Gun?” asked the perplexed guard. He glanced at the three boys, all of whom were struggling to their feet. “You heard the man,” said the guard when he noticed the look of fear at the gun’s mention.

The boys stood silently for a moment, until M.J. finally looked up at Jonas.

“We don’t know anything about your daughter, Mister… honest.”

Jonas stared hard at him. “What happened here?”

All three stood silently glancing at each other from bowed heads.

“Answer him!” shouted the guard and shoved M.J.

Jonas put out a restraining hand and glared at the guard before he spoke again.

“Look, boys, you’re already in enough trouble here for trespassing. Don’t add kidnapping to it.”

“We didn’t kidnap nobody,” Hammer said.

“My daughter is missing,” Jonas responded angrily. “I want to know what happened here…now!”

“Honest, Mister, we didn’t see your daughter,” said M.J. “When that old guy turned on the light, we ran. Somehow he got Jared. That’s all we know.”

“Who’s Jared?” asked Jonas.

“He’s our friend,” said Burner.

“He’s our leader,” said Hammer.

Jonas stared at the boys in silence and deep thought for several seconds. Sam Wyatt and Stevens pushed guests back to the library’s entry and out into the foyer. Those who could were craning their necks to catch a glimpse of the boys. Jonas concentrated so intensely on the boys that he seemed to see
no one else, and all sound except that from his conversation seemed to disappear.

“You saw an old man?” he asked.

“A little fat man,” M.J. offered. “Kinda…kinda looked like…like Santa Claus.” He glanced around at his friends and others in the room, clearly afraid that his comment would bring a rebuke of some kind.

“When you ran out,” Jonas continued, “Jared and the man were the only ones here?” Then, at M.J.’s nod, he asked, “Did your friend have a gun?”

M.J. and Hammer glanced quickly at each other, afraid to say yes but seemingly understanding that if they lied, things would go much worse for them.

“Yes, sir,” M.J. finally responded.

Jonas turned from the boys and walked around the room, deep in thought. A tall, black-mustached, uniformed policeman pushed his way through the crowd and walked up to Jonas.

“What’s happened here, Mr. Stone?” the policeman asked.

Three other uniformed policemen approached the security guards and took control of the handcuffed boys.

“My daughter has disappeared,” Jonas said, “and that gun was fired.” He pointed to the weapon held gingerly by Sam
Wyatt. The policeman frowned that any prints on the weapon may have been compromised.

“Do you have any idea where she may have gone, sir?” the policeman finally asked.

“I think she’s been kidnapped…by someone I had working in the house,” Jonas responded and stepped back, slumped into a chair, and buried his face in his hands. Wyatt approached the policeman to explain what had happened as he handed the gun to the officer.

Behind Jonas, Miss Grundick stared daggers at an open-mouthed Stevens.

The sun rose bloated and orange in the eastern sky…a sky vivid with morning colors and speckled sporadically with cloud puffs splashed with the same hues. The air was biting cold, yet with a hint of the warmth that would come at the sun’s full rising.

The hard-packed dirt road was already crowded with dromedaries and donkeys heavily laden with the worldly possessions of travelers who walked next to their beasts or rode in carts pulled behind. Mothers and fathers, weary from their journeys and sore from hard nights in the open, clutched the hands of children and trudged steadily along the road. While most walked and held their robes tight to fend off the morning chill, the rich among them lounged in chaises carried by their retainers. No matter what their station, however, all were traveling to their birth towns to be counted in the world census decreed by the Roman Caesar, Augustus.

It was just off this road, a few miles east of a small town called Bethlehem, that three unusually clad travelers were suddenly and unceremoniously dumped on the ground.

Jared, still dressed in dark jeans, T-shirt, and black sweatshirt leapt to his feet as soon as he hit the ground. He crouched, cat-like, arms at the ready to respond to any attack. His eyes darted in every direction in search of some understanding of his predicament.

Sarah simply stared. Her landing on her posterior was perhaps the softest of the three because of all the layers of her party wear. Despite her usual hatred of dirt and dust, she sat quietly for several seconds, her head turning slowly to take in her surroundings. Her mind raced with the contradiction of her father’s library and the arid hillside upon which she sat.

Nicholas, still tuxedo clad, sat for a moment before he smiled, stood slowly, and brushed himself off. He glanced at his two companions to make sure neither of them was hurt, and then he looked heavenward and whispered, “That was a little rough, wasn’t it?”

He turned to Sarah and helped her to her feet. “Are you all right, Sarah?”

“Where are we?” she asked.

Nicholas didn’t answer. Instead, he turned to Jared, who had jumped out of his cat-like crouch and started to run. The problem was that even though his feet were moving at a high
rate of speed, his arms were pumping, and his breath was coming faster, he was not moving. He was running in place, exerting all the energy he could muster to stay right where he was.

“You need not try to run, boy. You can’t go anywhere,” Nicholas said.

Jared slowed his pace and finally stopped, looked down at himself, and turned to Nicholas. “What is this? Where are we?” he demanded.

“We’ve taken a little trip. I needed time to speak to both of you and to show you something. Time had run out for you at the Stone house, young man,” Nicholas finished, his face growing as stern as his jolly features would permit.