my section, happy to feel his small shoulders beneath my fingers.
" Can I have some chocolate milk?"
" Did you finish your reading assignment?"
"No ."
" If you work on it right now, I'll score you some chocolate milk."
" Thanks." He unzipped his backpack.
I maneuvered around the diner's long counter to fish a bottle of chocolate milk out of the cooler.
Julie was speaking to someone. There was something about the pitch of her voice that drew my attention.
When I turned to see what had startled her, a man was rushing out the door. One of the off-duty police officers eyed the diner's still swinging door, but seemed to lose interest when Julie lifted a twenty-dollar bill from beneath the coffee mug.
How could I have been so distracted? I hadn't even looked at the man's face when I filled his cup.
I ran to the door, Conley's milk in hand, and stepped onto the sidewalk. The man was jogging. Already up the block. His head of short-cropped, dark hair ducked down as he turned the corner, out of view.
Something familiar about his movements . . .
No. It couldn't be, but–he was Glint's height and Glint's build. Conley was on the sidewalk next to me now, his face creased in confusion.
" What's going on?" he asked.
I looked down at the son who looked so very little like me.
~
Every night for the next two weeks I gave Glint the slip.
I understood his abilities the way few people did. On my home turf, he had no chance of finding me when I didn't want to be found. He seemed to give up. At least, I hoped he'd given up.
The summer months passed with little activity. Taking down Acoustic Calamity had repaired the damage to my reputation. No more villains challenged my small Borough. No more heroes visited to question my abilities.
Conley had calmed down too. I hadn't offered him a reason when I'd told him he wasn't allowed to eat at the diner anymore. Taking away his bit of independence should've caused an epic struggle, but he'd recovered after a couple of days.
I came home early one August night to spend a few hours helping Conley finish his summer assignments before school started again.
O nly Conley wasn't there.
Ms. Ruth should have been in our apartment with him, but I found the gray-haired neighbor at home, in the apartment next door.
" Wait. What did he say?" I asked.
The woman weaved her arthritis-swollen fingers together just to untwine them again. "He said that you found a scholarship for the day camp at that park."
" How long has this been going on?"
" Weeks. Almost two months. I thought you knew. We have breakfast when you leave for work and I wait with him at your apartment after he gets back. I'm so sorry."
I waved away her apology. It wasn't her fault–it was my responsibility to take care of Conley. "When does he normally come back?"
" Any minute now."
" Thank you, Ms. Ruth." I shouldered the door into my own apartment. How long had he been gone today? Seven hours? A little longer? How far away could he travel and still make it back? I considered all of the communities surrounding Nevils Borough. The drugs in Meilanville. The gangs in Wilstin Borough. Maybe he really had gone to day camp.
The lock on the front door jiggled.
I charged across the room and flung the door open. Conley stood in the hall, eyes wide, eyebrows high, keys clutched in his small fist. He was a mess, covered in dust and dirt smears. His shorts revealed freshly skinned knees and his old shoes were covered in mud.
" Inside. Now ."
Jaw set , he shuffled in.
I yanked one of the kitchen chairs out from under the table, turning it towards him. "Sit."
I paced between the front door and the kitchen sink, the small space doing little to contain my agitation. Everything was okay. He was home safe now. I just needed to figure out what was going on and handle it.
" Are you okay?"
He hesitated. "Uh. Yes?"
"Y ou're not hurt?"
Conley 's shoulders slumped forward, a guilty look played across his features. "No, Mom, I'm fine."
I
" Can I have some chocolate milk?"
" Did you finish your reading assignment?"
"No ."
" If you work on it right now, I'll score you some chocolate milk."
" Thanks." He unzipped his backpack.
I maneuvered around the diner's long counter to fish a bottle of chocolate milk out of the cooler.
Julie was speaking to someone. There was something about the pitch of her voice that drew my attention.
When I turned to see what had startled her, a man was rushing out the door. One of the off-duty police officers eyed the diner's still swinging door, but seemed to lose interest when Julie lifted a twenty-dollar bill from beneath the coffee mug.
How could I have been so distracted? I hadn't even looked at the man's face when I filled his cup.
I ran to the door, Conley's milk in hand, and stepped onto the sidewalk. The man was jogging. Already up the block. His head of short-cropped, dark hair ducked down as he turned the corner, out of view.
Something familiar about his movements . . .
No. It couldn't be, but–he was Glint's height and Glint's build. Conley was on the sidewalk next to me now, his face creased in confusion.
" What's going on?" he asked.
I looked down at the son who looked so very little like me.
~
Every night for the next two weeks I gave Glint the slip.
I understood his abilities the way few people did. On my home turf, he had no chance of finding me when I didn't want to be found. He seemed to give up. At least, I hoped he'd given up.
The summer months passed with little activity. Taking down Acoustic Calamity had repaired the damage to my reputation. No more villains challenged my small Borough. No more heroes visited to question my abilities.
Conley had calmed down too. I hadn't offered him a reason when I'd told him he wasn't allowed to eat at the diner anymore. Taking away his bit of independence should've caused an epic struggle, but he'd recovered after a couple of days.
I came home early one August night to spend a few hours helping Conley finish his summer assignments before school started again.
O nly Conley wasn't there.
Ms. Ruth should have been in our apartment with him, but I found the gray-haired neighbor at home, in the apartment next door.
" Wait. What did he say?" I asked.
The woman weaved her arthritis-swollen fingers together just to untwine them again. "He said that you found a scholarship for the day camp at that park."
" How long has this been going on?"
" Weeks. Almost two months. I thought you knew. We have breakfast when you leave for work and I wait with him at your apartment after he gets back. I'm so sorry."
I waved away her apology. It wasn't her fault–it was my responsibility to take care of Conley. "When does he normally come back?"
" Any minute now."
" Thank you, Ms. Ruth." I shouldered the door into my own apartment. How long had he been gone today? Seven hours? A little longer? How far away could he travel and still make it back? I considered all of the communities surrounding Nevils Borough. The drugs in Meilanville. The gangs in Wilstin Borough. Maybe he really had gone to day camp.
The lock on the front door jiggled.
I charged across the room and flung the door open. Conley stood in the hall, eyes wide, eyebrows high, keys clutched in his small fist. He was a mess, covered in dust and dirt smears. His shorts revealed freshly skinned knees and his old shoes were covered in mud.
" Inside. Now ."
Jaw set , he shuffled in.
I yanked one of the kitchen chairs out from under the table, turning it towards him. "Sit."
I paced between the front door and the kitchen sink, the small space doing little to contain my agitation. Everything was okay. He was home safe now. I just needed to figure out what was going on and handle it.
" Are you okay?"
He hesitated. "Uh. Yes?"
"Y ou're not hurt?"
Conley 's shoulders slumped forward, a guilty look played across his features. "No, Mom, I'm fine."
I
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