The Girls Are Missing Read Free

they shouldn’t, but in a way it seemed right. It was sort of a secret thing, there under the leaves. Something, or someone, had carefully covered it, and they were not supposed to find it.
    But the cave-rock was gone. She would never be able to go back to the cave-rock, knowing that thing was there. She would have no place to escape to after Mary Ellen came.
    “I don’t like it.” She kicked at a tree trunk. “I wish it wasn’t there.”
    “Well, it is. What do you want to do now, Gail?” “I think—” Gail looked at the ground, avoiding the hill where the flies were. “I think I’d better go home now.”
    “Me, too,” Anita decided. “I’m going to your house. And I’m going to stay for a while, and then I’ll walk around home by the road.”

3  
    Joyce woke from her nap as voices sounded on the stairs. She recognized Anita’s. It was good that Gail had someone to play with during the summer.
    Rousing herself, she assembled a load of laundry. On her way to the basement she stopped and looked into the sun-porch, where they were playing. Dolls and doll clothes littered the floor. Anita did not notice her, but Gail glanced up with a faint smile.
    They really were different, those two. Gail, always thin, still had the matchstick legs and wispy blondness of a child, while Anita, without seeming older, gave an unconscious hint of womanhood to come. It showed in her mannerisms, some probably spontaneous, some acquired, such as the habit of flinging back her hair and then preening it with a long, slow stroke of the hand.
    It showed in her easy way of handling adults, and it showed, rather surprisingly, in her legs. From the red shorts to the sockless sneakers, they were long, tanned, and shapely.
    Upstairs, Adam woke and demanded to be fed. She sat on her bed to nurse him and paged through a magazine with her free hand.
    “How to Cope With Your Child’s Fears.” It was an article she ought to read sometime. Gail had had some terrible
    fears after her father’s death. Most were gone now, but a few remained. Her questions about those missing girls, for instance.
    Gradually Adam dozed off. She returned him to his crib and went downstairs to start dinner.
    Anita was seated at the kitchen table, whining into the telephone. “Why can’t you come and get me?… Then will you tell Daddy to pick me up? . .. No, I don’t want to, I’m scared of Mr. Lattimer. … So much for you, I’ll stay here all night.”
    Joyce unwrapped a freshly thawed beef fillet and began to slice it. “Why are you scared of Mr. Lattimer?”
    “Because he’s a pervert and he’s ugly. And besides,” Anita tossed back her hair, “he’s in love with me.” She flounced away, immensely pleased with herself.
    Joyce was shocked. What if he really had made advances to the girls?
    Moments later came the sound of Gail’s voice. “No, I know what you’ll do. You’ll make me walk you all the way, and then I’ll have to come home by myself.”
    “So much for you!” Anita burst back into the kitchen. With a sly smile at Joyce, she called over her shoulder, “I guess you’re not my friend anymore.”
    Gail crept into the kitchen and stood close to her mother.
    Anita slammed out through the back door. “Good-bye, Mrs. Gilwood. Your daughter’s mean and selfish.”
    “Good-bye, Anita.” Joyce watched the black hair swinging down the driveway. “Now what’s the matter with her?”
    “I don’t know.” Gail stared at the floor.
    “I heard her asking for a ride home. Did she hurt herself?”
    “No … Mommy, what does it mean when there are a lot of flies around something?”
    “It means something’s spoiling, I guess. You know how flies are attracted to garbage.”
    Of course Gail knew. What a silly question.
    “What’s the matter, Gail? Where did you see these flies?”
    “In the woods.”
    “It might be a dead animal. A rabbit, or a deer.” There were occasionally wild deer, even in Cedarville.
    “I couldn’t see it.