Cutler 04 - Midnight Whispers

gasped and stood up. Where was Jefferson?
    There were fewer people moving through the great lobby, so I had no trouble seeing that he was not where he had been and was supposed to stay. My heart began to thump.
    "JEFFERSON!" I called. I looked back at the man who had taken a few steps closer. It was then that I saw that the zipper on his pants was open. Panic nailed my feet to the floor for a moment. Then I turned away and moved quickly down the aisle and out to search for Jefferson.
    First I went toward the entrance, expecting him to be there watching people come and go, but he wasn't to be found by the doors. I started across the lobby, my heart racing, my face flushed with fear. I charged down to the right and stopped at every booth and store, asking clerks and counter people if any of them had seen a little boy who fit Jefferson's description. No one had.
    My panic grew more intense. I thought my heart was pounding so hard and fast, I was sure to fall into a faint at any moment. Finally, I spotted a policeman and rushed to him.
    "I've lost my brother," I cried. "I've lost him!"
    "Whoa there, easy," he said. He was a tall man with light brown hair and friendly green eyes. "What do you mean, you lost your brother?"
    "We sat on the benches back there and he got up to walk around and I fell asleep. When I woke up, he was gone," I cried quickly.
    "Easy, easy. How old is he?"
    "Nine, almost ten."
    "Uh huh. And you?"
    "I'm sixteen."
    "Have you been here before?" he asked.
    "No sir."
    "So he doesn't know his way about," he said more to himself than to me. "All right, show me where you saw him last," he said and I led him back to the benches. That horrible man was gone. "He was standing right there," I said. "And then . . ."
    Suddenly, Jefferson appeared around a corner.
    "JEFFERSON!" I screamed and ran to him. "Where were you? Why did you walk away from where I told you to stay?"
    "I just went to the bathroom," he said, terrified by my outburst. He looked up at the policeman.
    "What are you two doing here anyway?" the policeman asked.
    "We're waiting for someone," I said.
    "Uh huh. All right, young man," the policeman said, shaking his finger at Jefferson. "You make sure you stay where your sister can keep a close eye on you, hear?"
    Jefferson nodded, his eyes wide.
    "There are bad people here who steal children sometimes, he warned. Jefferson's eyes grew even wider.
    "We'll be all right now, thank you," I said, putting my arm around Jefferson. I needed to feel him close to me. "We're just going to go back there and . . . oh no!" I exclaimed. "Oh no!"
    "What is it now?" the policeman asked, straightening up and putting his hands on his hips.
    "Our suitcases and my pocketbook!"
    "You left them there and went off?" the police-man asked me with incredulity.
    "I got frightened when I didn't see my brother and I . . ."
    "Where you from?"
    "Virginia," I said, unable to hold back my tears. "Man, oh man," the policeman said, pushing his cap back. He dug a notebook out of his back pocket and flicked it open. "Okay, let's have it. Your name and address," he said. I told him. "Who are you waiting for?" he asked. I looked at Jefferson.
    "My brother," I said quickly.
    "All right. Give me a brief description of your stolen property," he said and I described our suitcases and my pocketbook.
    "There was a horrible-looking man watching me before I started to look for Jefferson," I said.
    "Uh huh. Well, we've got a few of those around, but give me a description anyway," he said and I did.
    "All right, file a report," the policeman said.
    "My advice to you, young lady, is don't move from where you're supposed to meet your brother."
    "We won't," I promised and led Jefferson back to the benches. Even his coloring book and crayons were gone.
    "Who took our things?" Jefferson asked.
    "I'm not sure," I said softly. I felt drugged, defeated, burdened down with more weight than I could ever carry.
    "I'm hungry," Jefferson complained. "When can we eat supper?"
    "Eat? All our money's gone, Jefferson. My pocketbook was taken, remember?"
    "But I'm hungry," he moaned.
    "So am I, but no one will give us anything without money."
    "We'll tell them we'll pay them tomorrow," he suggested.
    "Not these people, Jefferson. They don't know us; this is New York. Mommy was right," I muttered. "Mommy was right." I put my arm around him and drew him closer. "We'll just sleep and try not to think about food until Gavin comes."
    The tears that were burning my eyes