- What do you mean by that? Paul Mallory asked from behind the camera, from which Frank West's field of view did not disappear even for a moment. It took a while for me to understand that the reporter's question had to be added from the tape as he was not sent to Arizona for an interview with the detective.
"Guess that," the cop replied.
- How would we make any guesses? Mallory asked.
- I have nothing more to say.
As soon as Alan heard this, he almost went mad.
- Jesus! Here we go again?! he shouted at the TV. "That son of a bitch suggests I had something to do with this case!"
I haven't heard that kind of opinion in years! After all, that bloody Paul Mallory promised to cut that kind of speech out! I was able to reassure him quickly, because the next fragment of the report was positive for him. Later, he himself appeared on the screen as he walked around the house telling Paul in detail what had happened to him that day. It came out absolutely natural and convincing.
"If someone who knows anything about it is watching this," I assured him, "he shouldn't be paying attention to some retired cop's idiotic suspicions." In fact, his insinuations may encourage someone who has something to say to reveal themselves.
The coverage came to an end extremely quickly and gave way to a live broadcast from some idiot reality show, in which a handful of not-so-known stars of the stage competed in gaining weight, that is, gathered in one place and under one roof, racing to whoever would get fatter and faster, to get a contract sponsored by a record label. Alan was waiting impatiently for a call until the end of this show, hoping that if anyone knew anything about her, he would call the studio immediately on the number provided. The producers promised that before the sun rises the next day, the mystery of his family's disappearance will be solved and he will finally find out the truth. But no one called, except for some woman claiming that her loved ones were also kidnapped by aliens, and a guy who explained extensively that Alan's parents must have disappeared into some space-time hole, so they probably either had to run away from bloodthirsty dinosaurs or ended up being washed away. brains in a world similar to the one presented in the Matrix. Nobody called with the information giving even the slightest point of contact. Apparently, there was no one among the viewers of the report who knew anything about this case. And even if someone was like that, he wasn't going to talk.
For the first week, Alan called Hopeline daily. He was politely replied that there was no response from viewers, but he should stay in touch. For the second week he was calling every other day, but the producers of the report were selling him off, explaining that there was no point in calling them, because if someone answered, they would contact him immediately. But no one spoke, and Alan's mysterious story was quickly forgotten.
Maddie looked at me pleadingly, but she uttered in all seriousness:
- Mom! I am ... already ... eight ... years old!
I had no idea where she learned this technique of breaking down sentences into individual stressed words to increase the dramatic effect. But I guess I didn't even have to ask. In our house, there were enough similar elements in the air to create any drama.
"That's right," I told my own daughter. - I'm all too aware of that.
I noticed that her untouched chocolate cereal had melted into a hideous brown mush that contrasted with the also untouched orange juice in the cup.
"The kids are laughing at me," she added.
I took a sip of my coffee thoughtfully. I had scarcely poured it from the infuser and it was almost cold. No wonder, since the infuser was standing on the refrigerator. I quickly decided to replace her with a cup of boiling water on my way to school.
- Who's laughing at you? - I asked.
"Everyone," Maddie explained.
"Oh, everyone," I repeated. - And how do they do it, specifically?
They organize special school academies? Are they petitioning the principal to make students laugh at you in a speech?
- Now you are making fun of me!
In that regard, she was right.
- Excuse me. I'm just trying to figure out how wide the coverage of the problem you reported has. For I suspect that it's not really about everyone, that it's just you who perceive it as if everyone is making fun of you, and it's really just a handful, although I guess their behavior can be very annoying.
- It's annoying!
- Are they your friends?
- Yes. They say my dad treats me like a baby.
"Your dad is just extremely caring," I said. - Because he loves you very much.
- Yes, I know, but I'm eight!
"Your dad only cares about getting you to school safely, nothing else." Maddie sighed loudly and lowered her head in resignation until the streaks of dark blond hair hid her hazel eyes from me. She rummaged the spoon thoughtfully among the soggy flakes floating in the milk.
"But he doesn't have to walk me out." Only to kindergarten, fathers walk their children away, holding their hand.
We had been through this before, and I was trying to convince Alan, explain to him as gently as possible that Maddie, who started fourth grade, really should be going to school alone. After all, she would never be alone, since lots of her peers would be with her.
- Maybe you could start walking me out? Maddie suggested, a wicked gleam in her eye. On those rare occasions, when I happened to walk her back, I was left a good few dozen meters behind, so that potential friends would be convinced that I was on an ordinary walk and that I did not care about my daughter at all, I did not care that she got to school safely. And neither of us had ever mentioned this to Alan.
My husband took it for granted that I walked Maddie away, holding her hand, to the door of Black Pine Circle School in Berkeley, then waited on the sidewalk until she was out of sight at the locker room door.
"I can't," I said. -I work. I have to be at my school by eight. If I escorted you to make it on time, you would have to wait at least an hour in the cloakroom to start classes. Dad doesn't start work until ten o'clock, so it's easier for him to see you off at the right time. I will still only be able to see you occasionally when I miss first-class and I don't have to be on duty.