Vanish

VANISH

She had been there for three hours. Three long and silent hours, trapped in the deprivation of solitude. The men that had brought her here wore uniforms and had badges, but that didn’t matter to her. Nothing much mattered to her anymore.

Those men had told her that Detective Tavesh was coming for her, but that was a long time ago. She hoped Tavesh had forgotten. She remembered him well and he scared her. She was tired of being scared.

All around her were solid, institutional green walls. Three of the walls were empty and the fourth was a mirror that reflected a beaten, spiritless figure wilted behind a dull metal table.

Next to the mirror, a door opened. Two men in drab blue suits entered. One was extremely young; his face unfamiliar with the hard demeanor it now undertook.

The other man was older. He was short and stocky and unlike his companion wore a light expression. He even whistled lightly to himself as he entered the room.

“Good morning, Helen,” the older man said cheerfully, as he sat down at the metal table. “You remember me? Detective Tavesh? From that little problem you had a few months ago?”

The woman, whose head rested heavily on her chest, murmured a few words of unconvincing recognition and returned to her heavy, strained breathing. Tavesh chuckled softly and nodded to the other man, who stood behind the slumped women, staring at her crumpled form. He was considerably taller than Tavesh and considerably less amused by the situation. His name was Figerro and he wanted some answers.

Tavesh wanted some answers, too. However, he was going take his time in getting them. He was going to enjoy this. He savored interrogations, especially with the junkies. They scared so easily and gave up any information that he wanted almost right away. The veteran detective wanted this one to last, since he already had a good idea what had happened. He just wanted this particular junkie to squirm for awhile until she said everything he wanted to hear. She had gotten the best of him before and the hit to his pride still lingered. “But that,” he thought, “was all over now.” He had her right where he wanted her. Now she was going to twist in the wind for awhile and he was enjoy every minute of it.

“So Helen, how’s everything been? How’s that young daughter of yours? Your little…Charlie, was it?” he asked, holding his head high, so he could look down on Helen. He found that this gave him a more intelligent look, which he could use to his advantage now. He wanted Helen to know that he knew what happened already. She’d be easier to scare that way.

“Has Charlie been to school this week?” the detective queried. Helen did not respond. Tavesh, undaunted, tried another route.

“We know she hasn’t been to school, Helen. She hasn’t been to school in two weeks, actually.” Helen’s head snapped up. Her body tensed. She hung on Tavesh’s every word. He continued as he moved his chair around the table. He was close to Helen now. “We also know that you haven’t been out walking the streets much, on account of the weather and all. And finally…finally, Helen, we know your dealer, Johnny…yeah, you remember him? We know he’s got a thing for little girls, Helen; and you know that too, don’t you?” The detective leaned in, close to Helen’s face; so close she could smell his aftershave and feel his warm breath on her cold skin. “Little girls, they don’t just disappear…do they, Helen?”

Helen jumped back from table. “Can…can I get something to drink?” Her whole body shook from the detective’s presence. “I think I need something to drink? Please…” She looked back to the Figerro; her wild, quivering eyes pleading for help.

The younger detective made no motion for the door, instead leaning against a far wall. His face was a dark, empty pool; showing just the barest glimpse of life or emotion.

“Little girls…like your little Charlie, they don’t just disappear. They’re always somewhere, with someone or something,” Figerro sneered. The dark pool grew darker.

Tavesh cut in. “So why don’t you tell us who Charlie is with? We can help her and we can help you too, Helen.” He tilted his chair back and smiled sickly. Helen let her head drop to her chest. She was still shaking.

“Please…I need that drink now. I’m gonna pass out.”

“You know why your feeling sick, Helen? It’s all that shit you pump into your veins. You haven’t had your fix from Johnny in awhile, huh?” Tavesh motioned Figgero to the other side of the table. They crowded around Helen. Her breathing became frantic and labored. Tears began to well in her hollow, desperate eyes.

“No, no, no…” Helen protested. The tears streamed down her pale, lined face and dripped softly onto the metal table in front of her.

“Oh yes, yes, yes, Helen. We know all about Johnny and your little arrangement.” Tavesh said, sickly sweet. “We know all about you, Helen. We know all your secrets. You’re nothing but a wasted junkie and that’s all you’ll ever be.” His tone was shrill and mocking; meant to do nothing but break what remained of Helen’s will.

She didn’t respond, instead cringing lower into her chair. For a moment, the only sound in the room was the desperate chattering of Helen’s teeth. That silence was broken violently by Tavesh. He slammed his fist on the table and grabbed Helen’s hair, drawing her inches away from his face.

“You whored your little girl out…just like that other time when she didn’t go to school for all those days?!? You sold her to Johnny for your fix, didn’t you? Well, we couldn’t prove it then, but we sure as hell are going to prove it now. Oh yes, we know everything about you.

Tavesh pulled Helen closer now; so close that her numb, lifeless skin touched onto his. “What did you do with her, Helen? Where is she?”

“She’s dead!” Helen screamed. She was shaking violently now. Her metal chair clanked fiercely against the table, beating a staccato rhythm that echoed in the barren room.

Tavesh swallowed hard and glanced up to Figgero, whose hard face had broken in a stunned stupor. “What did you say?” Tavesh asked quietly.

Helen’s dull blue eyes revealed an emotion that Tavesh had never seen before. There was fear, yes. That was for certain.

But there was something else. Something that was deeper. It wasn’t fear of Tavesh, or of Figgero, or even of what would happen to her when this whole charade came to its inevitable end. The fear in those milky eyes was drowned by a kind of hollow apathy; a tired specter of surrender.

“What did you say, Helen?” Tavesh repeated.

Helen began to speak and then paused; a minute closer to an eternity, and finally spoke, whimpering and wispy.

“I tried and tried for so many years and I could never help myself. I mean, what kind of person sells their own daughter for a fix?” she asked, her voice rising to meet the ludicrous nature of her question. “I couldn’t keep hurting my baby like that and nobody wanted to help me. They were always more interested in just punishment and as long as I was getting punished, Charlie was getting punished. I just couldn’t take hurting anymore. Then one night, I came home late and she waiting for me at the door. She was crying and I couldn’t get her to stop. It was late and she was tired.”

Helen stopped. Her breath was coming out in shallow shrieks now. She rocked back and forth in her chair and wrung her hands over and over till the cracked skin on them was red and flaking.

“I put a pillow under her, tucked her into bed and kissed her head here.” She held her trembling hand to her forehead and then quickly drew it down to her lips. She left it there a moment, slowly and gently exploring the spot where she last touched the remnants of her flesh and blood. “She just closed her eyes and went to sleep.” She lowered her head to her chest and could say no more. She just cried.

Figerro grunted and turned away, biting hard on his lip. Tavesh looked at him pityingly and turned back to Helen. He had a stronger stomach for this than his younger companion did. The dark cold years alone with the streets had left him numb to most pure human emotion. Any anger or joy he showed was just an act; a way to fit in to society. The only true sensation left in him was his pride.

“Helen, I want you listen to me very carefully. Where did you put her? Where did you put Charlie?” Tavesh asked.

“She’s in heaven…”

“Ok, ok…but what did you do with her body, you filthy..?” He trailed off; hoping his show of anger had tipped Helen over the edge.

“My little baby is with her Lord. The Lord loves all the little ones.” She answered him, in a hollow sing-song way.

“Helen!!! God help me, I’m gonna…” Helen cut him off.

She measured her words carefully. “You know, Detective, I don’t think you ever cared about helping Charlie,” she began. “You just wanted me to hurt. To be in pain. And I did hurt for a very long time and I hurt my little girl for a very long time because of people like you. Well Detective, I don’t think I’m ever gonna stop hurting now and doesn’t have anything to do with you.” She held her head upright and stared boldly at the detectives. Her face was defiant and strong. “I want my lawyer now.”

Behind the mirror came a number of short taps. The two detectives backed away from the table, dejected and exhausted. “Ok Helen…we’ll get you your lawyer. But we’ll be back.” Tavesh promised and left the room with his partner. Once again, Helen was left to her quiet introspection.

From her pocket, she pulled a small slip of paper that the patrolmen had missed when they first brought her into the police station. It was a frayed business card; it ends worn down by continuous handling. Helen ran her fingers across the black lettering and whispered the words on it to herself again and again.

ST. MARKS ADOPTION AGENCY
The Lord loves all the little children…

Helen kissed the card and placed it back into her coat pocket, and smiled in spite of herself; maybe for the first time in her life.

Tavesh opened the interrogation room door; his face belying his defeat. He stood there for a few tense seconds and fought the urges that were brewing in him. His professionalism finally won the battle. “Your attorney will be here in a few minutes, Helen.”

Helen looked up at him, her blue eyes bright and clear. “Thank you very much, Detective.”