Mary's Bones

SEVEN

I cringed at the pictures under the headline of Channel 12 News. "CHARLES HUDSON IS A PEDOPHILE," it read. His mugshot was scattered all over the internet. He'd been brought in for questioning, but there wasn't enough evidence to pin him to the missing children. So, they had no choice but to let him go. That was what the article said.

Though, the rumors didn't end there. People continued to call him a pedophile and tried to chase him out of town. The people of West Greenbush just assumed. I didn't know if it was true either. But here I was, watching him. Now, I wouldn't call it stalking. I was merely observing for research. There was no harm in that, right? John told me not to intervene. Well, I was learning from afar.

He was just as I imagined. A mid-forties man with onyx black eyes, gray hair, and a slight sag in the face. He moved fast, very attentive to his surroundings. I was sure he'd noticed my car sitting here for over an hour now.

But he hadn't bothered coming towards it. My windows were fairly dark, so I wasn't sure if he could see me anyways. He only proceeded to go about his daily routines. Those consisted of taking out the trash, walking to the grocery store, mowing the lawn, and doing other small things to ensure his property was kept in shape.

It wasn't like I made it obvious that I was watching him too. I'd kept my head down most of the time I'd sat here. My eyes were focused on my sketchbook. I only glanced up every once in a while to see what he was doing.

"Hmm." I rotated my wedding band around my finger as Charles trotted inside his house. It looked like he was gone for good.

It wasn't hard to find out where he lived. He'd been living in the same residence for the past seven years now, before the disappearances and after. So, I was able to easily ask around West Greenbush. Once I brought up the word pedophile, everyone in the neighborhood pointed their fingers at one man and one man only. I was almost glad John moved us out of here. There was more drama and gossip than I could handle.

I reversed, backing away from the curb so I could pull my car out. When I succeeded in doing so, I began driving toward the community center.

Charles Hudson looked like any other old man I'd ever met. Then again, didn't they all?

A pedophile could come in any shape or form. Whether it was an old man, a young woman, someone in their early twenties. It made no difference. Some of my teachers in high school could've been pedophiles, but I wouldn't have known. I was young, oblivious, and I only had eyes for one person at the time.

When I got to the center, Rick was standing in the hallway beside the front desk guarding the doors as usual. "Afternoon, Angie. I opened the door for the ladies so they could sit inside and wait for you."

"Good afternoon, and thank you, Rick." I smiled and looked down at my watch. It was only fifteen minutes to one. There were always a handful of ladies that were earlier than they needed to be.

"How are we doing today, ladies?" I greeted as I entered the classroom. When I made it to the front of the room, I placed my kit down on the floor.

"Hi, Angie!" Multiple voices spoke at once.

"Are we ready to get started?"

"Yes!" most of them yelled.

"Alright, let's wait for the rest of the class to show up. Then we can get started at one on the dot." It didn't take long for the classroom to fill up five minutes after one. Eventually, an hour had gone by until it was almost completely quiet.

I flicked my wrist in the same motion until my paintbrush coated the canvas with ease. Numerous whispers from the back of the classroom filled my head. But I was able to tune them out. I hadn't stopped thinking about Charles Hudson.