“What are you waving at?” I lightly squeezed his shoulder to pull his attention away from who or whatever he looked at so intently.
“Over there.” He pointed to the side of an escalator, where a shadow spread deep over the tile around it. “Do you remember the man I told you about at the park? With the scars? He’s here again.”
Grateful that I’d steadied myself with his shoulder, I spun him toward me, doing my best to keep my voice calm despite the shiver that shook me all over. “I remember you mentioning the man, but I never saw him. Are you sure he’s here now?”
I released my grip so that he could turn and look again and I tried to do the same. Again, I saw no one. Cooper refaced me, clearly frustrated. “He’s not there anymore, but he was, I know it.”
Cooper didn’t lie. Even when he tried to, he could only last a few seconds before his face would give way with guilt and he would fess up. If he believed he saw someone, he meant it, but why had I not noticed him?
Sure, I had a lot on my mind lately—my almost wedding and new job—not to mention that, like every mother, half of my mind always rested on Cooper. Still, it seemed that every time I made to look at the man Cooper mentioned, the stranger vanished into thin air. I couldn’t help but wonder if Cooper saw someone who wasn’t really there. An imaginary friend, perhaps? As the line started to move, I decided to direct my questioning to that effect.
“So, what’s your new friend’s name?”
He looked up at me with a face that plainly meant he thought I’d lost my mind. “I don’t know him, Mom. I don’t know his name.”
He shook his head at me, apparently astonished at my stupidity.
“Well, then why did you wave at him?”
He shrugged, lifting my hand a little. “He looked sad and he looked right at me, just like at the park.”
The thought made me uneasy. “You said he has bad scars? Does he scare you?”
“No.” He seemed surprised by my suggestion. “He’s not a bad guy just because he has scars, Mom.”
“Of course not,” I muttered quickly. Instantly regretting the implication of my question. “I just meant,” what did I mean? “He’s a stranger. How do you know he’s not scary?”
He shrugged his little shoulders and we stepped forward a step in the line. “Bebop says even if somebody is smiling, you can see meanness in their eyes.” He paused a moment and I said nothing, knowing by his held breath that he wasn’t finished speaking. “And I think he’s right. Just look at Grandfather. He smiles at people all the time, but he’s not very nice.”
I looked down at him, unsure of what to say. It seemed wrong to let him speak poorly of my father, but I could hardly disagree with him. Instead, I chose to direct the conversation back to the stranger. “So this man’s eyes weren’t mean, huh?”
“Nope. I think he likes us, Mom.”
We neared the gate and I extended Cooper’s boarding pass toward him so that he could hand it to the attendant to scan. “Well, why wouldn’t he like us? Here—do you want to hand it to her?”
“Yes!” He snatched it from me excitedly and leaned to the side to see how close we were to the front. “We’re almost there, we’re almost there. You can let go of my hand now too if you want, Mom.”
I released his hand, stepping behind him so that he could have his ticket checked first. After both our tickets were scanned, I stayed a half-step behind him, allowing him to lead us into the makeshift hallway leading toward the plane. He all but bounced up and down with the excitement that radiated off him.
His happiness did me good and, for a moment, I forgot all about Cooper’s mysterious stranger until a quick glance down at my bag made me realize I’d left my jacket draped over the chair where Cooper and I had been sitting.
Calling to him to stop, I waved him toward me. “Hey, I want you to wait right here. I left my coat, I’m just going to go ask the attendant if she’ll grab it for me.”
He nodded, trying to hide his disappointment that we would move back a few places in the line to get on the plane.
Squeezing his hand, I stepped away and hurried back up the ramp, pushing my way against the flow of people until I stood next to the gate entry, being sure not to step back outside of it. “Miss…” I reached out to tap the girl on the shoulder. “I’m so sorry, I believe I left my jacket on that chair over there.” I pointed in the direction of the chair, but couldn’t see it due to the line. “Would you mind grabbing it for me?”
To my surprise, she extended the light cotton jacket in my direction. “Is it this one?”
“Why, yes.” I reached out for it, surprised it had been noticed amongst the crowd of people. “Did a passenger pick it up?”
She shook her head and jerked it to the side, “Not a passenger on this plane. He must have been waiting at another gate. He just laid it over the counter here and turned to walk away before I could speak to him.”
“Which way did he go?” I looked around the mass of people, trying to find the man I suspected.