Mrs. Mint told them to stop, but she couldn’t hear and see everything. Nor should the class expect her too. She had always believed that if kids couldn’t defend themselves against bullies in class, they couldn’t deal with bullies out of class, where they were much more dangerous. At some point, the child must stop seeking the refuge of adults, and confront them.
It flared up again at recess as the kids played soccer. Mariella invited herself to the game, but no one passed to her. When an errant kick sent the ball astray and Mariella finally caught up with it, Kyle Buckley announced: “Cootie Swine’s got the ball. It’s infected. Don’t let it touch you.”
The blond-haired boy scampered from the soccer field and his classmates followed. Mariella dribbled the ball towards the net and kicked it in. She raised her arms as she swung around with a gleeful smile only to see an empty field. The girl hung her pouting face, and stomped the grass. Suddenly, she flung her arms out and stumbled. A red dodge ball had beamed her square in the back.
“Score one direct hit on the Mexican swine,” Cole Buckley said as his twin brother tossed him another dodge ball. “I’ll liberate our field.”
While several kids encouraged the Buckleys to pummel the fragile girl again, Mrs. Mint shimmied into her sneakers and shouted at them to stop hitting people with balls. Of course, that’s what dodge balls were designed for, but kids aren’t as tough as they used to be.
“Cut it out, boys,” Mrs. Mint hollered from the bench under the shade of a pine tree. “If I have to go out there, you’re missing recess tomorrow.”
She hoped that her threat would save her aching feet from walking through the sand, and her doughy skin from the brutal afternoon sun. Cole Buckley obviously had none of those considerations in mind when he launched another ball at Mariella. This time she dashed out of the way-and kept on running. The girl ran south off the playground and along the edge of the classrooms.
“Mariella!” Mrs. Mint shouted, as she reluctantly hiked up her jeans so she wouldn’t scuff the cuffs on her sneakers as she ran. Pain stabbed through her left ankle as she stepped on a tree root jutting out of the ground. She could barely keep up with the eight-year-old, much less gain ground on her.
“The girl is moving south from the playground, and around the classrooms,” the officer watching the playground from its north side said over the secure police line. “I’ve lost sight of her.”
“I got her,” said the officer playing construction worker on the cafeteria roof. “She’s passing the classrooms. She’s in between the trailers. I can’t see her anymore. I think she’s headed for you Moni. Does she know where you are?”
Moni sighed. She knew that Sneed must have that question in mind as well.
“I told her I’d be in the parking lot in case anything scary happened,” Moni said over the line.
“Real smart move,” DeWitt said. His pudgy hips nearly spilled out of his seat. “Now she’ll reveal our position. If the suspect is watching, he’ll know this is a trap. Mission over.”
She rolled her eyes dramatically enough so he wouldn’t miss the gesture and then got back on the line. “I think I better go out there and meet her. We can’t have her running around campus unsupervised.”
“Do you want to catch the Lagoon Watcher, or play mommy?” Sneed asked over the line. “If he recognizes that we’re baiting him, the Lagoon Watcher will grow wise to our set up. Even a deer ain’t stupid enough to walk into the same trap twice. This may be the only shot we have at corralling him.”
“Our first priority must be to keep Mariella safe,” Moni said as she tugged at the door handle. It didn’t budge. Officer DeWitt wagged his finger at her with his other finger pressing down the master lock.
“Don’t you worry about the girl. She’s in good hands,” Sneed said. Moni nearly puked down her shirt at the thought of that fat turd holding Mariella in his hairy mitts. “I’ve got cameras covering every row of the kiddie trailer park. Even now I see her running for her mommy. Just do me a favor-stay in the car.”
“Then who will…”
“Mrs. Mint is right behind her,” Sneed said. “She’s a teacher. She can handle a sassy little brat playing hooky.”
Mrs. Mint hobbled across the pavement around the “temporary” trailers, which had been at the school for nearly four years. Her knees and ankles jolted like misfiring pistons, as they were unwillingly pressed into service chasing the girl. She wished teaching didn’t have to be so physical. If she spent all day behind her desk, she’d have no complaints.
The teacher reared over with her hands on her knees and gasped for air as she finally cleared the eight rows of portables. After composing herself, she straightened up and surveyed the parking lot. She didn’t see Mariella. She spotted the “undercover” Lincoln Navigator with tinted windows, but she didn’t see any girl pounding on the windows, demanding her new mommy.
Maybe she erred in thinking that Mariella would run straight through the trailers on the same path she had entered. The girl might have made a detour or two. For a small kid, it wouldn’t be hard to get lost amid the massive rectangles. Overruling the strenuous protests of her throbbing ankles and knees, Mrs. Mint spun around and jogged back to trailer city.
This time she paced herself and paused as she passed each row so she could have a good look down both ways. She completed the entire length, and didn’t see anyone besides students making goofy faces at her from the windows of their wooden classrooms. No sign of Mariella.
Mrs. Mint’s heart pounded as fear of the worst crept through her arteries like a scorpion. She reached into her pocket and fingered the pen that would alert the police. Then she looked around and saw the cameras. They were watching every row of the portables, but they hadn’t called her with the girl’s location. If Mariella had found a hiding place from them, it must be between the short sides of the trailers, not the long sides that were under surveillance, she thought. The girl did have a thing for privacy. Mrs. Mint wouldn’t mind leaving her alone to cry off her frustration. But, with a whole police force and the girl’s supposed mother watching, she figured she better console the poor thing.
The teacher trotted up and down the rows along the short ends of the trailers, and peered underneath their hitches and behind their air conditioning units. As she leaned over for a look at the crawl space behind a clattering A/C unit, an arm cloaked by a black coat wrapped around her throat. It yanked her against a hard body that stunk of salt water and rotten eggs. She reached into her pocket for the alert pen. The man grabbed her wrist and squeezed it until she couldn’t feel her fingers.
“Don’t make this any harder than it needs to be,” the Lagoon Watcher said with his steaming breath on the back of her neck.
Chapter 33
The man stuck his gloved hand down Mrs. Mint’s pocket and his fingers clawed at her upper thigh. Oh Jesus, not there! She squeezed her legs together. His forearm wrenched her chin upward until she exhausted all her muscles struggling for air. His hand penetrated deeper until her pocket nearly tore. The Lagoon Watcher finally ripped his hand out of her pants and tossed the alert pen away.
“Everybody has the wrong idea about me. I’m not the one who’s dangerous,” the Lagoon Watcher said as he eased his grip around the teacher’s neck. She sank into the folds of his dark coat as if it where swallowing her whole. Her chest heaved as she feared that any breath could become her last. “The girl is dangerous. But I’m not here to hurt her. I’m here to figure out what’s wrong with her, and help her get better. The best thing you can do is walk away and leave us alone.”