Gone

scared, overwhelmed, lonely. But less lonely in one way than he had been these last months. The little firestarter proved that he was not the only one with power.
    He was not the only freak.
    He held up his hands and looked at his palms. Pink skin, calluses from waxing his surfboard, a life line, a fate line. Just a palm.
    How? How did it happen?
    What did it mean?
    And if he was not the only freak, did that mean he was not responsible for this catastrophe?
    He extended his hands, palms out, toward the barrier as if to touch it.
    In a panic he could make light.
    In a panic he could burn a man’s hand off.
    But surely he could not have done this.
    That brought him a sense of relief. No, he had not done this.
    And yet someone or something had.

EIGHT
    287 HOURS , 27 MINUTES
    “SIT STILL, I’M trying to change your diaper,” Mary Terrafino said to the toddler.
    “It’s not a diaper,” the little girl said. “Diapers are for babies. It’s my trainee pants.”
    “Oh, sorry,” Mary said. “I didn’t know.”
    She finished pulling the training pants up and smiled, but the little girl collapsed in tears.
    “My mommy always puts my trainee pants on.”
    “I know, sweetie,” Mary said. “But tonight I’m doing it, okay?”
    Mary wanted to cry herself. She had never wanted to cry more. Night had fallen. She and her nine-year-old brother, John, had handed out the last of the cheddar-flavored Goldfish. They had handed out all the juice boxes. They were almost out of diapers. Barbara’s Day Care wasn’t set up for overnight care. They only had a limited supply of diapers on hand.
    There were twenty-eight kids in the larger of the two rooms. Watching over them were Mary and John and a ten-year-old girl named Eloise, like in the books, who mostly kept an eye on her four-year-old brother. Eloise was one of the fairly responsible ones. A couple of other kids, overwhelmed, not knowing how to cope, had just dropped off siblings and made no attempt to stay and help.
    Mary and John had prepared formula and filled bottles. They’d made “meals” of whatever was in the day care and whatever John managed to scrounge up. They had read picture books aloud. They had played the Raffi CDs over and over again.
    Mary had said the words “Don’t worry, it’s going to be all right” a million times. She had hugged every kid again and again, so that it seemed like she was on a factory assembly line handing out hugs.
    Still, the kids cried for their mothers. Still, they asked, “When is my mommy coming? Why isn’t she here? Where is she?” They demanded in petulant, scared voices, “I want my mom. I want to go home. Now.”
    Mary was shaking with exhaustion.
    She fell into the rocking chair and just stared at the room. Cribs. Mats on the floor. Tiny bodies curled this way and that. Most asleep. Except for the two-year-old girl who would not stop crying. And the baby who wandered in and out of wailing fits.
    Her brother, John, was fighting sleep, his curls bouncing as he jerked his head up only to have it drift lower…lower. Hewas slumped in a chair across the room, rocking a makeshift bassinet that was really just a long plastic planter liberated from the hardware store. She caught his eye and said, “I am so proud of you, John.”
    He smiled his sweet smile, and Mary almost fell apart. Her lip quivered. Tears welled in her eyes. There was a lump in her throat and a pain in her chest.
    “I have to go pee,” a voice called.
    Mary located the source. “Come on, Cassie, let’s go,” she said. The bathroom was just outside the main room. She led the way, then she waited, leaning against the wall. Afterward, she wiped the little girl’s bottom.
    “My mommy always does that,” Cassie said.
    “I know, sweetheart.”
    “My mommy always calls me that.”
    “Sweetheart? Oh. Would you like me to call you something else?”
    “No. But I just want to know when my mommy is coming. I miss her. I always hug her and she kisses me.”
    “I know. But until she comes back, can I give you a kiss?”
    “No. Only my mommy.”
    “Okay, sweetheart. Let’s go back to bed.”
    Back in the main room Mary went to John. “Hey, brother.” She ruffled his red curls. “We’re running out of stuff. We’ll have a problem in the morning. I have to go see what I can round up. Can you hang in here for a while?”
    “Yeah. I can wipe butts.”
    Mary went out into the night onto the mostly quiet plaza.Some kids were sleeping on benches.