Baby Gone Bye Page 3

  Gabe picked up the baby. “The note says, The Abolesco. So, what would it mean . . . The Dead? And, why would they want Birdie?”

  Papi stared at the ceiling and thought for a while. Finally, he said, “When we apply the word to what we’ve observed, the child vanishing and then turning up in a new spot, I would conclude the word abolesco pertains to the second definition. Disappear or vanish. Hence, The Abolesco would mean The Vanished.

  Gabe nodded. “That makes sense. Any idea how we find out about these people?’

  Papi thought for a while. “Yes, but it will require a visit to Graciela.”

  Gabe pursed his lips in disgust. “The curandera? No way! That old witch gives me the creeps.” Gabe had heard many stories from his Mexican aunt about brujas who she insisted stole children’s souls.

  “Then, you better get over it, because after Birdie gets her shots that’s where we’re going.”

  Chapter Four

  GABE SAT, ALONE, in the waiting room of Dr. Paul Delgado with his fingers in his ears. Upon their arrival, his uncle had removed the baby’s clothing and checked her out from head to toe. When he spotted the blue rose on her butt, he’d turned to Gabe and winked. Gabe felt his face heat up and tried to change the subject. “Can you tell how old she is?”

  Papi agreed. “Yes, that would be helpful in narrowing down possible candidates for the birth mother.”

  Gabe groaned and shook his head. Uncle Pablo laughed and tickled Birdie’s tummy. “I’d say she’s approximately five months old. Healthy little girl. Let’s keep her that way.” He then lined up the syringes for her vaccinations. Gabe looked at Birdie kicking her legs and chortling and felt sick. She had absolutely no idea what was coming her way.

  “Wait!” Gabe said. “What if she’s already had her shots? If you do it a second time, maybe she’ll get a bad reaction or something.”

  “She’ll be fine. Trust me. I’m a doctor,” Pablo said, with a grin. “Just hold her still. Okay?”

  Gabe’s hands were shaking when he lifted the naked baby, feeling like he was delivering her into the hands of the devil. He felt even worse when she grinned and patted his face.

  Uncle Pablo administered the first shot.

  Birdie gasped, squeezed her eyes shut and let out a shriek of pain so pitiful, Gabe would later swear, he felt the jab of the needle deep in his heart.

  Clutching the baby, he yelled, “Oh, hell, no!” and ran for the door.

  Papi blocked his way. “I know it’s hard, son, but it has to be done. Give her to me. Go to the waiting room and close the door.”

  Gabe held the screaming baby to his chest, his frantic gaze ping-ponging between the syringes and the door. When the room began to spin and his vision turned black around the edges, he relaxed his grip, and Papi snatched Birdie from his arms. Gabe staggered out the door and into the waiting room, collapsing into a chair designed for a six-year-old.

  After what seemed like ages, but in actuality was probably fifteen minutes, Papi appeared with Birdie in his arms. Uncle Pablo stood in the doorway. The baby’s outraged screams had softened into little shuddery hiccups of dismay. When Gabe took her from Papi, he could have sworn she gave him a dirty look. He murmured, “Yeah, I know. That was a shitty thing to do to a little kid. Sorry about that.”

  Papi scolded, “Do you want your child to use words like shitty, Gabriel? Well, do you?”

  Gabe sighed. “No, Papi. Of course not.”

  With a shout of laughter, Uncle Pablo said, “Whole new life, eh, Gabe?”

  Gabe rolled his eyes. “You got that right.”

  Birdie fussed a little when Gabe strapped her into her car seat, but fell asleep quickly once they were underway.

  “Baby stuff first, or visit to Graciela?” Papi asked.

  “Graciela first. Let’s get it over with,” Gabe said. “Why do you believe in that sh . . . stuff anyhow? She’s just an old quack.”

  “No, you’re wrong,” Papi said. “Graciela is a Mexican healer who believes in the old ways. Gabriel, why do you deny the Mexican part of yourself.”

  “I’m only half Mexican. Mom was white, or have you forgotten?”

  The instant he said the words, Gabe wished he could take them back. Papi’s face collapsed in despair. “No, mi hijo, I’ll never forget your mother, even though she’s forgotten about us.”

  Six years ago, Gabe’s mother, fed up with the unrelenting rain, went to Arizona to visit her sister. She never came back and was now married to an orthodontist in Scottsdale. Papi had been unable to move forward, even though plenty of women were interested in him, including Abby’s divorced mother, Luanne.

  “Sorry, Papi. I shouldn’t have said that.”

  Papi forced a weak smile and said what he always said when the subject of his ex-wife came up. “It’s okay, son. Your mother always hated the rain.”

  Gabe remained silent as they made their way to the Pike Street Market and its warren of shops, one of which belonged to Graciela the curandera. Heeding his father’s advice to let sleeping babies lie, Gabe unfastened the car seat and lugged it, baby and all, up the steep stairway that connected the parking lot to the market. Even though a heavy mist hung in the air, by the time Gabe reached the top, he was hot and out of breath. He muttered, “This better be worth the trip.”

  Papi ignored him and made a bee line toward the fish market where tourists gathered to watch the men behind the counter shouting orders while tossing and catching slippery silver salmon. Papi always went to the fish market to get his bearings before starting down the narrow, twisting corridors to find Graciela. After a couple of wrong turns that had Gabe muttering under his breath, Papi stepped through the door of a tiny shop that was little more than a narrow stall.

  An old woman with skin the color and consistency of a leather purse stood behind the counter, using a pestle to mash something in a stone bowl. She looked up when they entered and smiled, showing a lot of gum and very few teeth. “Ernesto! Welcome to my shop. And who is this behind you carrying a beautiful bebe? Surely, not one of your sons.”

  Papi pushed Gabe forward. “My son, Gabriel, and his child, who we call Birdie.”

  Gabe nodded politely, trying not to gag when he saw the old woman had been applying her pestle to what appeared to be dried honey bees. Herbs, tied up in string, hung from the ceiling, their pungent aroma intermingling with that of the old woman’s lunch sitting on the counter. Despite the bees, the tantalizing scent of tamales and re-fried beans made Gabe’s stomach growl with hunger.

  Birdie’s eyes popped open. After a huge yawn, she looked around and said, “Eeep?”

  Graciela cackled. “Si, Birdie is a fine name for little niña.” Her gaze softened. She extended a wrinkled hand and patted Birdie’s head. “Roja. Muy bonita.”

  “Gracias,” Gabe replied.

  Graciela turned to Papi. “Tell me, Ernesto, what brings you to my shop today?”

  What followed was a burst of incredibly fast Spanish, far too swift for Gabe to follow despite his Summer in Hell. Not so, Graciela. Her eyes grew wide and she exclaimed, “Ieee!”

  Good or bad response? Gabe couldn’t tell. When Papi paused to take a breath, Graciela leaned across the counter and peppered him with questions. Mostly, Papi just shrugged and held up his hands in an “I don’t have a clue” gesture.

  Finally, Graciela said, “I fix,” and began scurrying around her tiny shop, pouring bits of herbs into tiny envelopes.

  “What’s going on, Pop?” Gabe asked.

  Papi removed his glasses and rubbed his eyes. “Graciela knows somebody who knows somebody else—the Mexican telegraph, you know—who she swears can tell us all about The Abolesco. In the meantime, she’s gathering up items that will protect Birdie against evil.”

  Graciela added a string of garlic to the growing pile on the counter.
Gabe said, “No way is my kid wearing a garlic necklace.”

  Graciela glared at him. “Hang over bed, idiota!”

  By the time the curandera had finished, the shopping bag held an assortment of herbs to scatter around the house, a string of garlic, a violet candle, and a tiger’s eye gemstone, all guaranteed to protect little Birdie from evil spirits.

  Papi dug out his wallet and handed over a twenty.

  Graciela snatched it out of his hand and held it to the light. “Perdon, Ernesto, but bad money going around market.”

  “No problem,” Papi replied. “Keep the change.”

  Graciela beamed at him. “Uno memento,” she said, digging around in a wicker basket sitting on the counter. She extracted a tiny bracelet made of flat, colorful stones, limped around the end of the counter, and placed it on Birdie’s arm.

  “What’s the bracelet for?” Gabe said.

  “Bracelet most important,” Graciela said. “Papi said you take baby to school. You don’t want baby to disappear at school. Would be very bad . . . right?”

  Gabe hadn’t thought of that. “Right.”

  “Bracelet made of special agates from Mayans. Keep baby from disappearing. Okey dokey with you?”

  “Yeah,” Gabe said. “Absolutely.”

  “Bracelet—how you say—stretchy?” Graciela said. “Grow with baby.”

  Gabe said, “Thank you. I appreciate it.”

  “Ernesto, I call you soon,” the old woman screeched as they exited the shop with their mojo-filled shopping bag.

  “Baby things next,” Papi announced, pulling a long list out of his pocket. “Crib, bedding, bottles, diapers, two pacifiers, formula, and girl stuff. You can’t take her to school wearing Henry’s cast-off baby clothes.”

  School. Tomorrow. With the baby. Gabe had resolutely pushed the image from his mind. There had to be another way. “Um, about school. Maybe we could get a sitter to come to the house. That way Birdie wouldn’t be around all those other kids with germs and stuff.”

  Papi opened the trunk of the car and stashed the bag of herbs before answering. “What part of the word responsibility don’t you understand, son?”

  Gabe threaded the car’s seat belt through Birdie’s chair and grumbled, “Guess you don’t care if I lose all my friends.”

  “You call such people friends?” Papi gave him an incredulous look. “Does a friend turn his back on you when one of life’s little problems presents itself?”

  Gabe scrambled into the front seat. “A baby left on the front porch is one of life’s little problems? I call it an effin’ disaster.”

  Papi ignored him and pulled out into the stream of traffic. “Which mall?”

  “No mall,” Gabe said. “Walmart.” Most of the girls Gabe knew wouldn’t be caught dead at Walmart. They hung out at the mall. Why not postpone the inevitable a few hours longer?

  But, the particular gods Gabe had offended had a different plan. As Gabe, Papi, and Birdie exited Walmart, the Maple Grove High School cheerleaders were setting up a bake sale right outside the door. Unable to retreat, since two morbidly obese people on scooters were directly behind him, Gabe had no choice but to soldier on. He turned his cap around so the bill was forward and pulled it down over his eyes, but it was too late.

  Taylor Talcott zeroed in on him immediately. Her eyes widened in shock and she squealed. “Gabe! Oh, my God, are you babysitting? Summer! Courtney! Look, Gabe Delgado is babysitting. How cool is that!”

  Maybe this wasn’t so bad after all. With a modest shrug, Gabe said, “Well, yeah. You know, the mother needed some time-out, so I thought I’d give her a hand.”

  The three girls crowded around, each firing questions. “Who’s the mother? Anyone we know? Ooo, look at that red hair. Hi, Baby. Aren’t you a little cutie.”

  Unfortunately, Papi chose that moment to chime in. Gabe held back a moan when Papi said, “This is Gabe’s baby. End of story. Let’s go, Gabe.”

  After a three-fold gasp of shock, the girls’ mouths fell open, and they stared at Papi, as if trying to understand ancient Sanskrit or a dialect known only to those in the northern regions of China. Then, the three girls exchanged knowing glances, fairly bursting with their desire to dish the dirt.

  Carrying Birdie, Gabe trudged after his father who was pushing a shitload of baby stuff, knowing, deep in his heart, his life had, indeed, changed forever.

  Chapter Five

  MONDAY MORNING. Gabe made sure Birdie was wearing her bracelet made of Mayan stone when he loaded her into the back seat of the Honda. It was 7:15 a.m., and knowing what the day would bring, Gabe wasn’t a happy camper. As he pulled out of the driveway, he spotted Abby walking to the school bus pick-up spot.

  He pulled in next to her and zipped the window down. “Hey, Abby. Hop in.”

  Abby gave him a measured look, as if deciding whether or not to accept his invitation. Finally, she walked to the car, opened the back door, slung her backpack on the floor, settled in next to the baby, and fastened her seat belt. She totally ignored Gabe and reached over to take Birdie’s hand. “Hi, Sweetie, how are you this morning?”

  Gabe was slightly bummed. Birdie hadn’t offered her a ride. He had. Gabe was the one sparing her the humiliation of riding the school bus. Not Birdie.

  “Hey, Abby, I have to drop Birdie off at the school day care. Wanna give me a hand?” Gabe checked the rear view mirror.

  Abby frowned. “Do you need my help?’

  “Yeah, actually, I do. Is there a problem?”

  Abby drew herself up and met Gabe’s eyes in the mirror. “Just make sure they know this is your baby. I’m just helping you out ’cause I’m your neighbor . . . eh?”

  So that was her problem. Gabe gave her a reassuring smile. “I’ll make sure. Course it would be pretty obvious if it was yours . . . I mean it’s practically impossible for a girl to hide it when she’s knocked up, uh, I mean pregnant.”

  Abby rolled her eyes and compressed her lips as if trying to hold back a caustic remark. Gabe ran a practiced eye over the girl in the back seat. Whoa! When had this flat-as-a-board neighbor kid morphed into a fine-looking chick? Big blue eyes. Curly light-brown hair pulled back in a ponytail. She must have noticed him checking her out, because her face turned bright red and she zipped up her baggy blue hoodie.

  “Eyes on the road, Gabe,” she said. “Baby on board.”

  Baby and babe. Gabe gave her a friendly wink before pulling out of their cul-de-sac onto Maple Grove highway.

  After a few minutes of silence, Abby said, “What exactly do you want from me?”

  “I want you to be my friend.”

  “You’ve got lots of friends.”

  Gabe sighed. “I used to have lots of friends.”

  Yesterday, after his encounter with the cheerleaders, Gabe’s cell phone went crazy. He’d checked a few of the texts before deleting them all unanswered. Although the words varied, all had the same theme: “Dude! A baby? Call me.” By now, the entire teen population of Maple Grove, Washington knew Gabe Delgado had a kid.

  A quick glance in the rear view mirror verified the icy silence following his remark. Abby was glaring at his back like she wanted to bury a knife in it. When she spoke, her tone was as cold as her expression. “Correct me if I’m wrong. You want me to be your friend because I’m the only one you’ve got left?”

  Now it was Gabe with the red face. “No, no! You’re taking this wrong. It’s just that you were there. You saw what happened yesterday morning. You know, the whole disappearing baby thing. There’s no way I could explain that to my friends.”

  Abby was not convinced. “So, when you said you used to have lots of friends, you really meant to say something else?”

  Geez, why did girls make everything so complicated? What the hell was he supposed to say? Stalling for time, h
e fiddled with the radio. Oh yeah, girls liked all that touchy-feely stuff. Worth a try.

  Gabe said, “What I meant to say is, my friends wouldn’t understand the way you do, you being a girl and all.”

  Abby’s brows drew together as she considered this remark. “Are you saying I’m the only girl among your circle of friends? That’s moose crap and you know it.”

  Gabe turned into the Starbucks drive-through as he did every morning for his caffeine infusion. He tooted his horn at the car in front of him driven by school security guard, Lee Bradburn, who also had a major Starbucks habit. Bradburn rolled down his window and waved.

  “Want a coffee? Hot chocolate?” Gabe asked Abby.

  “No.”

  Gabe ordered his drink and pulled forward. He took a deep breath and chose his words carefully. “Okay, here’s the real deal. The crowd I run with? They’re about as deep as a mud puddle. Guess who will be the hot topic of the day? I could use somebody on my side, that’s all.”

  When Abby didn’t reply, Gabe risked a glance over his shoulder. Wonder of wonders, she was smiling at him. A genuine smile that lit up her eyes. She nodded. “Finally, the truth. Don’t worry. I’ve got your back.”

  Gabe returned the smile. “Thanks.”

  Five minutes and ten sips of scalding coffee later, Gabe pulled into the school parking lot. When he took another peek in the rear view mirror, he saw Birdie had clamped onto Abby’s index finger and was sucking on it vigorously.

  “So, what’s the plan?” Abby asked when Gabe turned off the ignition.

  “One of us carries the kid. The other one hauls all the baby stuff from the trunk.”

  Always efficient, Papi had researched the name of the woman, a Mrs. Carrie Wachsmith, in charge of the childcare facility, and quizzed her as to what Gabe would need to bring for the baby on Monday. Turned out it was a whole bunch of stuff. Diapers. Formula. Extra clothes. Proof of vaccinations. Birth certificate. Etc. Etc. So much stuff, in fact, that Gabe had borrowed Henry’s soccer ball bag to haul it in.