My Stolen Son

A Story by Charlie B

While taking her son Jackson to daycare, Mary Sullivan spots a malevolent man watching over them. Who is this mystery man and what are his intentions?

It was a normal day. I was driving my six year old son to daycare when the screech of an engine belt made me jump. I put on my hazards and pulled over to the side of the road, just in time for steam to start bellowing from beneath the hood.

"Mommy?" he said with a sweet, innocent voice. I looked over my shoulder towards him and in the distance, a dark, blurry figure of a person crouching behind a tree knotted my stomach and sent chills down my spine.

"Jackson, stay in the car. Lock the doors," I said as I unbuckled my seat belt and glanced into my side into my left side mirror. The man was still crouching behind a tree, but this time he was closer, so close I could see the dark ski mask that covered his face.

Now, I was panicking. I jammed the key into the ignition and cranked. The engine sputtered, then died. Sputtered, then died. By now the man emerged from his cover and carelessly started walking towards the car. My hands shook and my arms quaked. I cranked the ignition a final time in a last ditch attempt to escape, and finally the engine Dodge Caravan roared to life.

I tore the gear shift into Drive and slammed the gas pedal to the floor. Wasting no time, I peeled away from the curb side, leaving thick clouds of exhaust that bellowed from my tail pipe.

By the time we reached Jackson's daycare, I was physically exhausted. Sweat saturated my grey shirt with deep, dark stains. My breaths were panicked and shallow, my face beet red and rosey. I unbuckled my seatbelt and slowly pushed open the door, feeling a wave of nerve induced nausea wash over me. Regardless, I powered through and slid off of the seat. My legs shook and wobbled beneath me as I opened the door and let Jackson out. He ran up to the door of our daycare, and I followed looking as pale as a ghost.

"Hi Mrs. Wagner!" he shouted with a bright, shining smile that spread ear to ear.

She grinned and pulled a small rock candy from the pocket of her sweater, and with a voice of silk, she responded. "Hi sweetie!" she said, letting him snatch the sweet from the palm of her hand. He looked up to me for approval and I nodded. There was no way any parent could say no to that, especially to Mrs. Wagner.

"Well, thanks again Veronica. I'll swing by at eight or so after work to take him home," I said, letting a sigh of relief leave my body.

"Not a problem my dear," she said, putting a hand on Jackson's shoulder. "Come on dear," she said, ushering him through the doorway, into the house.

I walked down the path and got back into my car. I expected to have more engine trouble, but to my surprise it fired off with ease. By the time I pulled up to the base of her driveway, it was already right fifteeb. I knocked on the door and a puzzled looking Mrs. Wagner greeted me.

"Mary, you're husband already picked up Jackson," she said with a crinkle in her forehead. My breath left my body in a steady whoosh. My skin turned pale and icy as I struggled to process the words that were spoken to me. After several seconds of astonishment, I finally said "Veronica, I don't have a husband."

She looked at me with a horrified look on her face and rushed back into her house, towards the kitchen where the landline was. Pure panic and adrenaline poured into my veins. "Veronica, where is my son!" I screamed, raising my hands to my head. "Where is Jackson!"