Chapter 4 - The Drawing Under His Bed|
I didn't sleep that night.
Every time I closed my eyes, I heard Dr. Kessler's voice.
Everything we've done will be ruined.
What had they done?
And why did a doctor sound frightened because his patient was finally speaking?
At six the next morning, Mrs. Hargrove assigned me to clean Noah's bedroom.
“Don't move his toys,” she warned.
“Understood.”
“And don't ask him questions.”
I looked at her.
“Why does everyone keep saying that?”
She stiffened.
“Because questions upset him.”
“Or because answers upset someone else?”
Her expression hardened.
“Careful, Clara.”
Then she left.
Noah's bedroom was enormous.
A miniature train circled one wall. Wooden animals filled a shelf, and a soft yellow blanket lay twisted across his bed.
But something was missing.
There were no family photographs.
Not one picture of his mother.
I found Noah sitting beneath a small table.
He was wearing his yellow hoodie, blue jeans, and white sneakers.
“Morning, sweetheart.”
He watched me silently.
“Can I clean in here?”
A small nod.
I began dusting.
Several minutes passed.
Then Noah crawled out and pushed a piece of paper toward my shoes.
I picked it up.
A drawing.
Crude lines.
Dark colors.
A small boy standing beside a blue rectangle.
Inside the rectangle was a woman with long hair.
And beside her stood a tall figure drawn entirely in black.
I crouched.
“Did you draw this?”
Noah nodded.
“Is that you?”
Another nod.
I pointed toward the woman.
“Is that Mommy?”
His eyes filled with tears.
“Yes.”
My heart broke a little.
“Who is the other person?”
Noah grabbed the paper.
“Bad man.”
I kept my voice gentle.
“Do you know his name?”
He shook his head.
Then he began drawing again.
This time, he made three black circles beside the man's head.
“What are those?”
“Bells.”
I stared at the drawing.
Three circles.
Three notes.
The same melody that had terrified him in the foyer.
Suddenly, footsteps approached.
Noah dropped the crayon.
His face changed.
He snatched the drawing and shoved it beneath his bed.
Dr. Kessler appeared in the doorway.
“Good morning, Noah.”
The boy immediately turned away.
The doctor smiled at me.
“Any difficulties?”
“No.”
He glanced at the crayons.
“Has he been drawing?”
“Just playing.”
Dr. Kessler stepped inside.
“May I see?”
Noah began shaking.
I moved slightly between them.
“He put everything away.”
The doctor studied me.
Then smiled.
“Very good.”
After he left, Noah crawled beneath the bed again.
He returned with something clutched in his fist.
A small silver button.
It had an unusual design.
Three tiny engraved circles.
Noah placed it in my palm.
“Mommy said hide it.”
I stared at the object.
“Hide it from whom?”
May you like
He whispered:
“The man who made her disappear.”
