Kidnapped

Chapter 6

It had been less than ten minutes since the school buses left, but it seemed like forever to Elizabeth. Where was Max?

"Who are Max's friends?" Mr Quincy asked.

Elizabeth and Mrs. Julia named four children from Max's class. Mr Quincy called each of their homes. Twice he got an answering machine and left an urgent message. The other two times, a woman answered, questioned her child, then reported the child hadn't seen Max after school let out.

"Maybe someone gave him a ride home today," Mr. Quincy said. "Perhaps a neighbor or somebody else Max knows saw him in the bus line and offered to drop him off. Maybe he's home, waiting for you."

Elizabeth called her own number, although she knew Max wouldn't be there. They always rode the bus home together unless Mom made other arrangements in advance. Always.

The answering machine clicked on. "Max," Elizabeth said, "if you are home, call the school right away." She read the number off the telephone base.

Elizabeth hoped her mom would get there soon.

"Did Max have a problem today?" Mr. Quincy asked Mrs. Julia. "Did you send a note home?"

Mrs. Julia said, "He didn't get in trouble in class. He rarely does. Max's one of my easiest boys, except for his tendency to think about baseball too much."

Something's happened to him, Bonnie thought. Maybe the anxious feeling that started in PE hadn't been because of remembering the dream; maybe it was a premonition.

Was Max going to disappear from her life without even a chance to day good-bye, the way her dad did?

Mr. Quincy turned to the school secretary, Mrs. Wilson. "Were there any visitors at school this afternoon?" he asked.

Mrs. Wilson picked up the sign-in sheet and glanced at it. "One parent came to take a sick child home. The regular volunteer who listens to the first-graders read was here, and we had a delivery for the library."

"Nothing unusual," Mr. Quincy said.

"Nothing unusual," Mrs. Wilson agreed.

----------------------------------------------

Max's cheeks started to itch. He rubbed them, one hand on each side of his face. The more he rubbed, the more his cheeks itched. They felt hot, like two glowing coals. His chest itched, too, and he stuck one hand up his T-shirt to scratch.

"I think you were wrong about the candy bar," he said.

"What do you mean?"

"I've got hives."

Daniel looked at the boy. His face was puffy, especially around his eyes.

"I itch all over," Max said. "I need to take one of my pills."

"What pills?"

"The green ones I take every morning."

"Vitamin pills?"

"No. I take a vitamin pill, too, but now i need the kind I get from the doctor, for my allergies."

Matt kneaded his ears. Daniel frowned, watching him. Pink blotches bloomed on the boy's face and neck. Whoever heard of a kid being allergic to chocolate? Still, Max did look as if he had scrubbed his face with poison ivy. Small bumps like mosquito bites rose on the blotches. Max's lips seemed swollen.

"Did you ever get hives before you weren't home?"

"Once I got them at school when I traded my snack for another kid's cupcake."