Now, as she rocked, she hugged Tyler’s stuffed bear.
Someone had rescued Tyler from the fire. It happened. Didn’t it?
Or was she losing her mind?
The police insisted she was wrong, the insurance company with its check told her she was wrong. Now Dr. Durbin with his letter told her she was wrong to think her baby had survived.
Another nail of reality had pierced her heart.
Emma cried out and her aunt came to help her to her bed.
“It’s very late, sweetheart, you need to get some sleep.”
Emma cooperated as she ached for rest. She undressed and got into her bed, letting sleep take her because when she slept, she could dream.
And when she dreamed she was with Joe and Tyler again.
In her dreams they were driving together near the snow-tipped Rockies, heading for the picnic north of town. There was no crash. They made it safely to their destination alongside the Grizzly Tooth River, the water sparkling like a rush of diamonds.
Joe is crawling after Tyler who is toddling toward her, running into Mommy’s open arms in the beautiful sunlight and they are so happy, so happy the air rings…and rings…until the mountains vanish…then Joe vanishes…and Tyler disappears into the dark void of night that is ringing…like the telephone at Emma’s bedside.
“What…”
Emma sat up and answered the phone, her head spinning.
“Emma Lane?”
She didn’t recognize the female voice.
“Yes.”
“Emma Lane in Big Cloud, Wyoming?”
The voice was ragged, raw with an underlying current of stress.
“Yes, who is this?”
“Listen to me. Your baby is not dead.”
“What? Who is this? What did you say?”
“Your baby is alive. That’s all I can tell you. I’m sorry.”
“Wait!”
The line went dead leaving Emma to scream into the handset.
24
Kunming, China
Long before the sun rose Li Chen woke in the shack where she lived with her husband and son.
She began her day by lighting the stove.
Under the dying moon she stepped from her house that was shimmed tight against others in the village. She walked down the worn path to the water pipe where she washed, then brought water home for tea.
Her husband, Sha Shang, stirred, grunted a greeting then left to wash. After Li made their lunches, she made tea and breakfast: congee, which Li prepared in the rice cooker. While Sha joined the other men for their morning smoke, Li looked upon her three-year-old son, Pan Qin, asleep on his cot. Under the lamplight she drank in his flawless face and skin. One little foot stuck out from his blanket. Li traced the tiny birthmark on his ankle, shaped like two hearts touching.
It symbolized her eternal bond to her son.
Pan was her reason for living and dreaming.
Li and Sha were young peasants from the country when they married and migrated to the city two years ago. A cousin with city smarts got them this shack, while Li and Sha hoped that one day they would qualify for a modern apartment downtown with a private toilet, running water, bedrooms and a separate kitchen.
This was their dream.
When breakfast was ready, she teased Pan’s hair until he woke. He kissed his mother, then, droopy-eyed, went outside to pee. His father smiled and called him a good soldier.
Dawn was breaking when they finished breakfast.
Sha kissed Li and Pan, climbed onto his bicycle and rode off to his job at a brick factory across the city. After Li tidied up, she and Pan set out for her job in the market. They had a long walk out of the village, which was in Kunming’s Xishan District.
The sun peeked over the horizon, illuminating the smoggy haze that blanketed the metropolis, as the crammed bus took Li and Pan to Kunming’s bird and flower market.
They walked by streets of old two-story shops with tiled rooftops, then to the market with its exotic smells like roasted chestnuts, fried duck heads, kebabs and other barbequed meats.
There were stalls with water tanks where live eels threaded amongst each other. The eels fascinated Pan as did the vendors selling parrots, turtles and large insects.
There were artists selling paintings, carvings, crafts, clothing, fabrics and jewelry. Farmers were selling corn, potatoes, onions, tomatoes, bananas, lemons and pungent goat cheese.
Li operated a small stall, selling spices.
Pan usually stayed with her all day.
While the market was popular, it was also a center for criminals, drug dealers, gangsters and child stealers. Like other working-class parents in the market, Li knew that the child traffickers kidnapped boys to sell to wealthy childless people who wanted to carry on the family line at any cost.
Li always kept a close eye on her son. She never let her guard down with him in the market. If Li had to step away, she entrusted Pan to a friend in a neighboring stall.
Lately, she’d grown increasingly comfortable with the young man and woman who’d appeared a few months back to conduct research on children in the market. At first Li was uneasy as she was not yet a legal migrant. But the researchers didn’t care about her status. Their concern was collecting data on her son for a special government hygiene study.
The man and woman visited Li’s stall every week and gave Pan a medical examination, swabbing his mouth, pricking his finger for a blood sample, making notes, taking his picture. They’d asked Li about his diet, bloodline, allergies, and similar matters.
Li was happy that Pan was getting personal medical care and was growing friendly with her regular visitors, even coming to depend on them. There were times when she left Pan with them while she stepped away from her stall for a brief errand.
The market was busy all morning. She’d wanted to buy Sha a present. His birthday was coming and there was a carving of a tiger that would be perfect for him. Li knew the artist and he’d offered her a good price.
By afternoon, the market crowds had increased.
Li was relieved when the medical researchers arrived.
“Good afternoon, Li. May we please examine Pan today?”
Li invited them into her stall.
“Would you watch Pan and mind the stall for me, while I run a quick errand?” Li asked them.
“Certainly.” The young woman smiled. “We’ll be right here.”
Li kissed Pan, who gave her a wide grin because he knew that whenever his mother left, she returned with sweets. She moved through the market crowds to the vendor with the tiger and was disappointed. The artist who’d promised her a special price on the tiger was not there. A grumpy old man who wanted triple the cost was tending to the stall. Li bartered with him before the old crook relented.
Happy, she started back, stopping to get sweets for Pan.
As she neared her stall, alarm pinged in her stomach.
It was empty.
She went inside and looked around, puzzled and afraid.
What was going on?
She asked her neighboring vendors, who shrugged.
“It’s been so busy, Li. We’ve seen nothing.”
No sign of her son. No sign of the researchers.
“Pan!”
Her mouth went dry, fear slid down her throat and devoured her hope that he would appear.
“Pan Qin!”
Li left her stall, scanning the area, searching the faces of small children, running through the crowds screaming for her son. Her mind swirled. She didn’t even have the names of the researchers, no cards, no documentation.
Nothing.
“Pan!”
The minutes bled into a half hour, which became an hour. Time swept by without a trace of her boy. The other vendors passed on the word, some sent people to Li’s stall to help search the market.
The whole time Li accused herself.
Why weren’t you watching your child?
Why did you trust him to strangers?
How could you be so stupid?
Two police officers came by and Li pleaded to them, told them about the medical researchers, the government’s hygiene study.