But all he saw was aging plywood.
As he stepped back, another bolt of lightning lit the sky and Taylor caught a glimpse of another duck blind, not fifty yards away. One that wasn’t as shrouded as the one he’d just searched. Taylor took off again, running, believing . . .
If I were a kid and I’d gone this far and saw what looked like a little house . . .
He reached the second blind, searched quickly, and found nothing. He cursed again, filled with an even greater sense of urgency. He took off again, heading for the next blind without knowing exactly where it was. He knew from experience that it wouldn’t be more than a hundred yards away, near the waterline.
And he was right.
Breathing hard, he fought the rain, the wind, and most of all the mud, knowing in his heart of hearts that his hunch about the duck blinds had to be right. If Kyle wasn’t here, he was going to call the others on the walkie-talkie and have them search every duck blind in the area.
This time when he reached the blind, he pressed through the overgrowth. Moving around to the side, he steeled himself to expect nothing. Shining his light inside, he almost stopped breathing.
A little boy, sitting in the corner, muddy and scratched, filthy . . . but otherwise, seemingly okay.
Taylor blinked, thinking it was a mirage, but when he opened his eyes again, the little boy was still there, Mickey Mouse shirt and all.
Taylor was too surprised to speak. Despite the hours out there, the conclusion had seemed to come so quickly.
In the silence—a few seconds at most—Kyle looked up at him, toward the big man in a long yellow coat, with an expression of surprise on his face, as though he’d been caught doing something that would get him in trouble.
“Hewwo,” Kyle said exuberantly, and Taylor laughed aloud. Grins immediately spread across both their faces. Taylor dropped to one knee, and the little boy scrambled to his feet and then into his arms. He was cold and wet, shivering, and when Taylor felt those small arms wrap around his neck, tears welled in his eyes.
“Well, hello, little man. I take it you must be Kyle.”
Chapter 8
“He’s okay, everyone . . . I repeat, he’s okay. I’ve got Kyle with me right now.”
With those words spoken into the walkie-talkie, a whoop of excitement arose from the searchers and the word was passed along to the station, where Joe called in to the hospital.
It was 2:31 A.M.
Judy retrieved the phone from the table, then sat it on the bed so that Denise could answer it. She was barely breathing as she picked up the receiver. Then all at once she brought her hand to her mouth to stifle the scream. Her smile, so heartfelt and emotional, was contagious, and Judy had to fight the urge to jump up and down.
The questions Denise asked were typical: “He’s really okay? . . . Where did you find him? . . . Are you sure he’s not hurt? . . . When will I see him? . . . Why so long? . . . Oh yes, I see. But you’re sure? . . . Thank you, thank you all so much. . . . I can’t believe it!”
When she hung up the phone, Denise sat up—this time without help—and spontaneously hugged Judy while filling her in.
“They’re bringing him to the hospital . . . he’s cold and wet, and they want to bring him in as a precaution, just to make sure everything’s okay. He should be here in an hour or so. . . . I just can’t believe it.”
The excitement brought the dizziness back, but this time Denise couldn’t have cared less.
Kyle was safe. That was the only thing that mattered now.
Back in the swamp, Taylor had removed his raincoat and wrapped it around Kyle to keep him warm. Then, carrying him from the blind, he met up with the others and they waited in Duck Shot just long enough to ensure that all the men were accounted for. Once they were assembled, they started back as a group, this time in tightly knit formation.
The five hours of searching had taken their toll on Taylor, and carrying Kyle was a struggle. The boy weighed at least forty pounds, and the extra weight not only made his arms ache, it also made him sink even deeper in the mud. By the time he reached the road, he was spent. How women were able to carry their kids for hours while shopping in the mall was beyond him.
An ambulance was waiting for them. At first Kyle didn’t want to let Taylor go, but Taylor, speaking softly, was finally able to coax him down to let the attendant examine him. Sitting in the ambulance, Taylor wanted nothing more than a long hot shower, but because Kyle seemed on the verge of panicking every time Taylor moved away, he decided to ride with him to the hospital. Sergeant Huddle led the way in his trooper’s car, while the other searchers began to head home.
The long night was finally over.
They reached the hospital a little after 3:30 A.M. By that time the emergency room had calmed down and nearly every patient had been seen. The doctors had been informed of Kyle’s imminent arrival and were waiting for him. So were Denise and Judy.
Judy had surprised the nurse on duty by walking up to the station in the middle of the night to request a wheelchair for Denise Holton. “What are you doing here? Don’t you know what time it is? Visiting hours are over. . . .” But Judy simply ignored the questions and repeated her request. A little cajoling was necessary—though not much. “They found her son and they’re bringing him here. She wants to meet him when he arrives.”
The nurse went ahead and granted the request.
The ambulance rolled up a few minutes earlier than predicted, and the back door swung open. Kyle was wheeled in as Denise struggled to her feet. Once inside the doors, both the doctor and the nurses stepped back so that Kyle could see his mother.
In the ambulance he’d been stripped down, then wrapped in warm blankets to get his body temperature back up. Though his temperature had dropped a couple of degrees over the last few hours, he hadn’t been at real risk of hypothermia, and the blankets had done their job. Kyle’s face was pink and he was moving easily—in every respect he looked far better than his mother did.
Denise reached the gurney, bending closer so that Kyle could see her, and Kyle sat up immediately. He climbed into her embrace and they held each other tightly.
“Hello, Mommy,” he finally said. (Hewwo, Money)
Denise laughed, as did the doctor and nurses.
“Hi, sweetie,” she said, whispering into his ear, her eyes tightly closed. “Are you okay?”
Kyle didn’t answer, though this time Denise couldn’t have cared less.
Denise accompanied Kyle, holding his hand as the gurney was rolled to the exam room. Judy hung back throughout all this, watching them go, not wanting to interrupt. As they disappeared from view, she sighed, suddenly realizing how tired she was. She hadn’t been up this late in years. It had been worth it, though—there was nothing quite like riding an emotional roller coaster to really get the old ticker pumping. A few more nights like this and she’d be in shape for a marathon.
She walked out of the emergency room just as the ambulance pulled away and began to search through her pocketbook for her keys. Looking up, she spied Taylor talking to Carl Huddle near his patrol car and breathed a sigh of relief. Taylor saw her at the same time, sure at first that his eyes were playing tricks. He eyed her curiously as he started toward her.
“Mom, what are you doing here?” he asked incredulously.
“I just spent the evening with Denise Holton—you know, the child’s mother? I thought she might need some support.”
“And you just decided to come down? Without even knowing her?”
They hugged each other. “Of course.”
Taylor felt a surge of pride in that. His mother was a hell of a lady. Judy finally pulled back, giving him the once-over.
“You look terrible, son.”
Taylor laughed. “Thanks for the vote of confidence. I actually feel pretty good, though.”
“I’ll bet you do. And you should. You did something wonderful tonight.”
He smiled briefly before turning serious again. “So how was she?” he asked. “Before we found him, I mean.”
Judy shrugged. “Upset, lost, terrified . . . pick your adjective. She’s been through pretty much everything tonight.”
He looked at her slyly. “I heard you gave Joe a piece of your mind.”
“And I’d do it again. What were you guys thinking?”
Taylor raised his hands in defense. “Hey, don’t blame me. I’m not the boss, and besides, he was as worried as we were. Trust me.”
She reached up, brushing the hair from Taylor’s eyes. “I’ll bet you’re pretty worn out.”
“A little. Nothing that a few hours’ sleep can’t fix. Can I walk you to your car?”
Judy looped her arm through Taylor’s and they started toward the parking lot. After a few steps she glanced at him.
“You’re such a nice young man. How come you’re not married yet?”
“I’m worried about the in-laws.”
“Huh?”
“Not my in-laws, Mom. My wife’s.”
Judy playfully pulled her arm away. “I take back everything I just said.”
Taylor chuckled to himself as he reached for her again. “Just kidding. You know I love you.”
“You better.”
When they reached the car, Taylor took the keys and opened her door. Once Judy was behind the wheel, he bent down to peer at her through the open window. “Are you sure you’re not too tired to drive?” he asked.
“No, I’ll be fine. It’s not that far. By the way, where’s your car?”
“Still at the scene. I rode with Kyle in the ambulance. Carl’s gonna bring me back.”
Judy nodded as she turned the key, the engine cranking over immediately.
“I’m proud of you, Taylor.”
“Thanks, Mom. I’m proud of you, too.”
Chapter 9
The following day dawned cloudy with sporadic rain, though most of the storm had already passed out to sea. The newspapers were filled with coverage of what had happened the night before, the headlines focusing largely on a tornado near Maysville that had destroyed part of a mobile home park, leaving four people dead and another seven injured. No coverage at all was granted to the successful search for Kyle Holton—the fact that he’d been lost at all wasn’t learned by any reporters until the following day, hours after he’d already been found. The success had made it, in their vernacular, a non-event, especially when compared with the continual reports feeding in from the eastern part of the state.
Denise and Kyle were still in the hospital and had been allowed to sleep in the same room. Overnights were mandatory for both of them (or, rather, what was left of the night), and though Kyle could have been discharged the following afternoon, the doctors wanted to keep Denise in for an extra day of observation.
The noise in the hospital made it impossible to sleep late, and after another examination of both of them by the doctor on call, Denise and Kyle spent the morning watching cartoons. Both were on her bed, pillows behind them, wearing ill-fitting hospital gowns. Kyle was watching Scooby-Doo, his favorite. It had been Denise’s favorite as a child, too. All they needed was some popcorn, but the very thought made Denise’s stomach turn. Even though the dizziness had subsided for the most part, bright lights still hurt her eyes and she had trouble keeping food down.
“He’s running,” Kyle said, pointing at the screen, watching Scooby’s legs turning in circles. (Eez runny)
“Yes, he’s running from the ghost. Can you say that?”
“Running from the ghost,” he said. (Runny fraw ah goz)
Her arm was around him, and she patted him on the shoulder. “Did you run last night?”
Kyle nodded, his eyes still on the screen. “Yes, eez runny.”
She looked at him tenderly. “Were you scared last night?”
“Yes, he’s scared.” (Yes, eez scairt)
Though his tone changed slightly, Denise didn’t know whether he was talking about himself now or still talking about Scooby-Doo. Kyle didn’t understand the differences among pronouns (I, you, me, he, she, and so on), nor did he use verbal tenses properly. Running, ran, run . . . it all meant the same thing, at least as far as she could tell. The concept of time (yesterday, tomorrow, last night) was also beyond him.
It wasn’t the first time she’d tried to talk to him about the experience. Earlier she’d tried to talk to him about it but hadn’t gotten very far. Why did you run? What were you thinking? What did you see? Where did they find you? Kyle hadn’t answered any of her questions, nor had she expected him to, but she wanted to ask them anyway. One day maybe he’d be able to tell her. One day, once he could talk, he might be able to think back and explain it to her. “Yeah, Mom, I remember. . . .” Until then, though, it would remain a mystery.
Until then.
It seemed as far away as ever.
With a slow push, the door squeaked open.
“Knock, knock.”
Denise turned toward the door as Judy McAden peeked inside.
“I hope I’m not coming at a bad time. I called the hospital, and they said you both were up.”
Denise sat up, trying to straighten her wrinkled hospital gown. “No, of course not. We’re just watching TV. C’mon in.”
“Are you sure?”
“Please. I can only take so many hours of cartoons without a break.” Using the remote, she turned down the volume slightly.
Judy walked to the bed. “Well, I just wanted to come by to meet your son. He’s quite the topic of conversation around town now. I got about twenty calls this morning.”
Denise angled her head, glancing proudly at her son. “Well, here he is, the little terror. Kyle, say hello to Miss Judy.”
“Hello, Miss Judy,” he whispered. (Hewwo, Miss Jeewey) His eyes were still glued to the screen.
Judy pulled up the chair and sat beside the bed. She patted him on the leg.
“Hello, Kyle. How are you? I heard you had a big adventure last night. You had your mother really worried.”