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Jack bounces with excitement all the way to the movie theater. Once we arrive, his eyes light up when he sees the arcade of games on one side of the lobby.
“Mama, please,” he begs, hanging off my arm. Normally, I’d say no or tell him to wait until after the movie, but it’s his birthday, and he just seems so happy.
So I fish into my purse for a couple of dollar bills and put them into his eager hands. Before I let him run off, I hold his hands and give him a serious, wide-eyed look. He gazes up at me, still practically bouncing in place.
“Stay where I can see you. Don’t talk to strangers. You have five minutes.”
“Thanks, Mama!”
With that, he dashes off toward the bright lights and arcade sounds. I watch anxiously from the line at the concession stand as he puts a dollar into one machine, picking up the game’s blaster that’s nearly bigger than he is. He’s wearing an excited smile as he plays.
Once his turn runs out, he takes his second dollar and hops into a game pod. I can’t see him anymore, but I keep my eyes on the machine, watching to make sure no one else goes in or out as he plays.
“I can help the next guest,” someone calls, and I turn to find I’m up next. Quickly, I order a large popcorn and soda, glancing back at Jack’s video game every couple of seconds.
I’ve taught Jack well about safety when we’re out in public. He knows not to talk to anyone or go anywhere with someone he doesn’t know. But I still can’t seem to relax in public, even when I know he’s safe. I hate that my mind still reels back to the possibility that someone would take him or hurt him.
There’s no possibility of his biological father coming back into our lives—thank God—but that fear still lives inside me, even without any rational reason why.
I grow more and more anxious with every second as the cashier takes his sweet time ringing up my order. I’m practically shoving my credit card at him when he tells me my total.
Glancing back at the arcade, I still can’t see Jack, and I’m growing paranoid.
When the cashier hands me back my credit card, I shove it into my back pocket and scoop up the popcorn and soda, bolting toward the arcade. Every step toward the game pod feels harrowing. But when I hear his laughter only a few steps away, I breathe a sigh of relief.
“I’m beating you!” he shrieks with excitement.
“You wish,” a man’s voice replies. As I approach the machine, I first see Jack in the seat, his little hands wrapped around the steering wheel of the game. Then I lean in farther to see he’s not alone. There’s a man sitting next to him, but I can’t see his face with the curtain in the way.
“Hey, Mama,” Jack calls when he sees me standing next to him. “Can I have another dollar?”
“I got it,” the man replies. When he leans forward to put another bill into the machine, I nearly drop the popcorn as I recognize him. The blood drains from my face as I pop back up and turn my body away from the machine, praying he didn’t see me.
Why isClaysitting in a video game machine with my son?
It’s a coincidence.
Relax, Eden.
It’s just a coincidence.
But still…these two worlds colliding make me want to run. He’s aclient,and he’s with myson.I know I shouldn’t feel ashamed about this, but for some reason, I do.
Behind me, they keep playing their game, and while I’m currently reeling with anxiety, Jack seems to be having the time of his life. His laughter is full, and I catch the way Clay laughs along with him, giving him directions and encouragement.
Something in my chest shudders at the sound.
“I got second place!” Jack shouts.
“Good job! I told you to take those turns slowly.”
“Thanks,” Jack replies, and I feel frozen with fear again. I need to try and get him out of here without Clay seeing my face.
“Come on, Jack,” I say, keeping my voice an octave higher than normal.
“What movie are you going to see?” he asks Clay, ignoring my order.
“Jack,” I bark.
