Mommy's Little Boy (Under Construction)

Chapter 4

Panic rose within me as I took deep inconspicuous breaths, trying to keep calm. “But-but mom!” I cried, stalling for more time. I had no clue where the police were or if they were even coming, but I couldn’t let my only chance to get back to mommy slip away. Mom Margaret whipped around, her brown eyes narrowed suspiciously. “Darling, you’ve eaten your special breakfast, and now it’s time for us to pack. I’ll do it for you sweetums.”

I wished she would stop calling me all those annoying pet names. It made enduring her dark presence a gazillion times worse. “Mom,” I began carefully, not sure what I was going to say and noticing she was nearing the end of her patience. “I reealllyyy want my ice cream now.” I bit my tongue hard and tears readily slipped down my cheeks, though I’ve always hated crying.

Daddy said to stay strong, for mommy. He said that crying meant I wasn’t strong to other people and that I should ‘leave the crying to the women.’ I remember how mommy had laughed at that, smacked his arm playfully. I hoped he’d forgive me. Mommy said that there was an exception to everything. Maybe this was an exception?

“Oh, my poor Luka,” mom Margaret crooned, reaching out for me and slamming my head against her chest none too gently. My eyes closed tight, all I could see was the image of the hand stroking my hair now holding the lock of hair that so closely resembled mine. An involuntary shudder raced through my body and her grip on me tightened.

“We can take your ice cream with us dear Luka!” mom Margaret announced, and by her proud tone you would have thought she had solved all our problems. I knew that the problems had only just begun. I mustered a faint, “Yay,” before she pulled back and stood me up roughly. Handing me my overnight bag, she smiled widely at me and chirped, “All done, little Luka, now we can continue on our fun trip!” I nodded in reluctant assent, my mood falling flat. Mommy wasn’t coming for me. The police weren’t going to help me.

We made our way down to the empty lobby, mom Margaret practically skipping there. Evil mom Margaret, I thought darkly. Sometime after the phone call I had made the unconscious decision to call her mom Margaret instead of mommy. She could make me pretend she was my mom, but I would never call her anything else, and no term of endearment will pass my lips.

Just as we had passed the check-out desk, I saw five police officers waiting by the double doors leading to the parking lot. Their eyes locked on us and they made a beeline for mom Margaret.  Showing no sign of unease except that she squeezed my hand a bit tighter, she merely gave them a sweet smile and kindly nod. She made to pass by them, but one held up his hand authoritatively. “Is your name Martha Schmidt?” one of the officers asked, giving me a side glance.

Mom Margaret’s face twisted into a look of confusion before understanding seemed to dawn and she laughed lightly. I could hear the forced brightness in it, though I was sure she could fool the police. “Me, Martha? Oh dear heavens no! I’m her twin sister Marge,” she answered, convincingly rolling her eyes. “That troubled sister of mine called me the other day in…Arizona, I believe. She mentioned something about her dear friend Penny. I saw the news yesterday and I just knew the poor dear would need comforting. In fact, I’m on my way there now.”

One of the policemen gave me sly wink before turning to mom Margaret. He raised an eyebrow skeptically and held out his hand. “Identification please, Miss Schmidt.” I noted how he refrained from calling her Marge, yet another name thrown in the mix. How many was that now? Three? She grinned happily, exclaiming cheerfully, “Oh silly me, of course you’d need my I.D. Give me just a minute darling.”

Reaching into her overly-packed purse she easily found her wallet and placed it in the officer’s outstretched hand. He gave it a quick glance and his eyebrow furrowed slightly before he straightened it out, giving us a curt nod. “I’ll be just a minute,” he said and gestured for one of the other men to follow him out.