Little Emmett by Abe Moss

Author:Abe Moss [Moss, Abe]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781709461705
Published: 2019-11-20T05:00:00+00:00

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Emmett was eating lunch when he sensed someone standing behind him. He turned slowly, then jolted when he saw them. The same guard—Hollings, Zachary had called him.

“Finish your meal quickly,” Hollings told him. “Then follow me.”

The guard—Hollings—waited at Emmett’s back as he scarfed down the rest of his lunch. He opened his carton of milk and drained as much as he could before spilling some down his chin and the front of his uniform. Then he stood and they made their way toward the door labeled Ward C.

“Where are we going?” Emmett asked.

Hollings gave no sign of having heard him.

Soon they were headed down a corridor with only a handful of doors down its length. One was labeled “Testing C”. Another was labeled “Evaluation C”. The door at which they stopped read “Analysis C”.

Hollings knocked on the door and they waited. Emmett looked down the corridor from whence they came, where no other children were in sight. Then, as he opened his mouth to ask again about the purpose of this trip, the door was answered. It opened, and someone stepped into view to meet them. A woman…

“Hello,” she said to Hollings. When she saw Emmett, her eyes grew bright and she smiled as though pleased to see him. As Emmett recognized her—with a chilly, sour clarity—he immediately felt quite the opposite. “Oh, and hello again!”

It was the woman from the police department. Her name escaped him now, but he wasn’t entirely sure she ever gave it. All he remembered was the distinct, desperate hope he’d felt that he’d never see her again.

Hollings gently guided Emmett into the room as the woman stood aside to let him in.

“Thank you, Officer Hollings,” she said, and closed the door.

Much like the office in the police department, this room contained little more than a desk and some chairs. Not much to look at.

“Hello, Emmett,” she said, leading him toward her desk. “Do you remember me?”

Emmett didn’t say whether he did or not. He simply walked with her, and sat in the chair as she gestured for him to do so. Rather than circle the desk to her own chair, she leaned against the edge of the desk beside him, her feet just a few inches from his, ankles crossed prettily. She leered down, her eyes resting along the bottom rim of her glasses.

“Yes. You remember me.” One of her feet bounced playfully atop the other. She watched him for a painful amount of time. The air was stuffy. The room was void of sound. Not the tick of a clock, or the blow of an A/C vent. “Do you remember what we talked about last we saw each other?”

He shook his head. She smiled.

“Would you like to know how your mother is doing?”

He looked up at her then, at her sharply bisected eyes peering at him through the rim of her glasses, as she couldn’t be bothered to tilt her upturned face toward him. Pleased with herself, she slid from her desk and went to her own chair.

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