Assimilation (or The Box continued)

The gasket on the refrigerator door was beginning to separate from the frame. She had opened that door countless times and now the corner of the gasket was sticking to the door. "I really need a job", she thought. She had been employed with local school district for 2 years when the superintendent had decided to make drastic cutbacks in mid-year. She could still hear his sympathetic voice on the other line explaining how important it was for everyone to understand the district had no other choice. "Tell my refrigerator that." she mumbled to herself and no one else in particular. Her husband had recently been promoted at the same time so moving to another city was definitely out. And Carl's adjustment to his new school had taken so long this time. The family had no choice if they wanted any semblance of normality. Dr. Wilhelm had taken his interest in Carl a little too seriously and John felt the necessity to move. Cathy's position as an aid at the old school wasn't her dream job but at least she would have still been employed. So, she was now unemployed and John had flourished at the new branch. "We can just buy a new refrigerator." That was John's answer. But the medical bills and student loans weren't gonna pay themselves off either. And the most important thing was Carl. "I guess I could try superglue." Perhaps the challenges weren't as glamorous at home as they were at school but still ... Cathy almost didn't hear her cellphone ring in the dining room. "Hello?" Carl's school seemed to be the only ones who would call late in the afternoon. "It sure as heck wouldn't be John." she quietly said to herself. "Mrs. Winston, this is the secretary at Adam's. We hadn't heard from you but we need to know if Carl had a reason for not being here today?" A momentary disconnect occurred in Cathy's thinking process as this slowly translated into possibility. "Carl should have been there. Are you sure he isn't? I watched him get on the bus myself." She could feel her heart pounding as the possibilities came pouring in. "We've checked with all his teachers. He didn't report in his first class and there hasn't been any sign of him all day. Carl's not here Mrs. Winston." Cathy stood in the dining room trying to fathom where Carl could be. "Mrs. Winston? Mrs. Winston?" The years of doctor's visits and the analysis by Dr. Wilhelm came flooding back. "I'm sorry. I'll call you back." Cathy hung up and immediately called John's office. "What do you mean 'in a meeting'? He's always in a freaking meeting. Can you please inform him his one and only son is missing?!!!" Cathy stood quietly trying to recompose herself as the phone rang again in her hand. It was John. "What's going on with Carl? He didn't go to school?" Cathy was tired of this game with John. After 19 years with this man he felt like a stranger most of the time. "I personally watched him get on the bus John. I don't just sleep in!!" Cathy was angry and scared. "I know you don't Cathy. Please calm down. He didn't show up at school?" "Why am I the only one that seems to have a handle on Carl's life?" she thought to herself. "No John. He didn't show up at school. The secretary just called wanting to know an excuse to write down. He's been missing all day and they just now called." Slowly, the sobbing started. "It's happening again John. I just know it." "Calm down Cathy. I'm coming home. I'll call the police on my way. We'll find him." As he hung up a sense of frustration and hopelessness washed over her. It had been three years since the last disappearance. The last time he had shown up at the mini-mart a few blocks from the house. The police had informed DCFS and there had been an investigation into his history. She really couldn't go through this again. As she was trying to fathom the reality of Carl's situation she heard a muffled cry from upstairs. "Mom? Are you here?" It wasn't possible, was it? She ran up the stairs and opened the door to Carl's room. When she saw Carl sitting on the floor her relief was instantaneous. It took a moment for her mind to register to the rest of the scene. Carl was looking at her with a lost expression of confusion and disbelief. His clothes were stained with dry blood and his hair was matted thick with it. In his left hand he held a book. It was as clean as any other item in Carl's room. In his right hand he was holding an old carving knife. Cathy's father was an avid antique collector who specialized in old weapons and metals. She recognized the design but couldn't remember where she had seen it before. But her son was sitting on the floor holding it. "Carl!" she shouted as she ran to him. "Are you okay? Are you hurt?" His eyes told her the truth as he remained silent. "Carl?" He remained silent for a moment and then the realization of what was going on sunk in on him. "I don't remember mom. I don't remember anything. How'd I get here?" As she held him she could smell a toxic mixture on his clothes. She could smell the fresh blood but there was an underlying aroma of something indiscernible. She knew she had smelled it once before but the memory alluded her. Carl had disappeared before but this time was different. And there was a sense that he was not alone. She could feel something else with her son. But for now her son was here. In her arms. But he definitely was not alone. My name is Rueuhy and I approve this blog.