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James made it home just in time for dinner. The apartment
smelt of flowers and cinnamon. It was his anchor to
windward, secure, comfortable and comforting. The three
of them had a nice little life together. The first couple
of years with Ben had been hard but now that he "slept
through" as James' mother put it, they did too.
They ate together in front of the television while
Ben played on the floor. He never seemed to get tired
before 9 o'clock. If they tried to put him to bed earlier
but he wouldn't settle.
"How was your day?" Debbie asked, pouring
generous glasses of wine for each of them.
"Trust me, you don't want to know." This,
at least, was probably true. "Doberman was in a
bad mood. He picked on Kath again."
"Again? I didn't know he gave her a hard time."
"You didn't?" Debbie and Kath spent a lot
of time together, or talking on the phone. James naturally
assumed they shared information. He sometimes wondered
quite how much of it they shared.
"No. What does he do?" James explained, watching
a look of empathy spread across Debbie's sweet face.
She cared so much about her family and friends that
sometimes she seemed to feel their pain. There was no
point. You can't alleviate pain by sharing it, but he
loved her for trying.
Ben crawled over to the remote control for the television
and studied it. Very deliberately he aimed the small
box at the screen and pressed a button with his thumb.
The nightly news show came on, as if he had chosen it
deliberately. Perhaps so.
"Police were called to the museum," the announcer
said, "when an alarm sounded in the early hours
of this morning. Sixteen items of pre-Columbian art,
mostly from the city of Teotihuacan, were snatched.
The video tapes apparently show nothing at all, though
experts confirm the cameras were operating correctly
and the tapes running. So far the New York Police Department
has declined to comment. The haul is estimated to be
worth ten million dollars on the open market."
The screen showed external views of the museum and
then a walk-through of the exhibition. James was fascinated
by Mexican culture. He watched carefully, annoyed that
he'd missed the start of the piece. He wondered which
museum it was.
"New York is buzzing with mysteries today,"
said the announcer to camera. "We'll be back with
more after these messages."
Ben was on his knees, carefully stacking plastic bricks
into a neat pyramid. Debbie snatched a sketchpad and
a piece of charcoal and began to draw. James loved to
watch her. She was so quick. The image that emerged
seemed just as full of life as the little boy himself.
Ben's face was away from them but somehow the drawing
conveyed his level of concentration and energy.
The phone rang just as she finished the picture. James
began to move but she told him to relax and ran to grab
it before the machine picked up the call. "Kath,"
she mouthed to him. "For me."
The two began to talk and James turned his attention
back to the show. The commercials ended and the news
announcer came back. "Strange goings on in Central
Park today," she said. They cut to footage of a
wide grassy area. A large muscular man was flying through
the air, dangling by one arm from some unseen support.
The camera zoomed in to show a look at amazement and
panic on his face. Suddenly he fell out of the shot
and the camera zoomed out to show that he had fallen
into a trash can.
"As far as police can determine, these three men
tried to snatch a briefcase from a businessman taking
a walk in the park. They learned the hard way that crime
does not pay. Somehow, no one knows how, they ended
up wedged in a trash can. Forty minutes later the Fire
Department cut them free."
James looked around for the remote. Debbie was deep
in conversation with Kath but Ben was looking at the
screen thoughtfully.
"This man," said the announcer, "seems
to have been the target of the muggers."
James face appeared unmistakably on the screen.
"Daddy," shouted Ben. Debbie looked at her
son and smiled. Mercifully her eyes never drifted towards
the screen.
"He spoke briefly to our reporter but then vanished,
adding further to the mystery. Whatever you think of
it, New York City is never short of surprises."
The camera cut back to the anchor. "I'm Miranda
McLaughlin. You're watching Connecticut NewsDay."
Miranda gave a lip gloss smile and shuffled papers.
James gave a sigh of relief. "Daddy," cried
Ben again, pointing excitedly at the screen.
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