Have You Seen This Child?

by Roberto Ontiveros

Laina had a strong feeling she lost something when she was exiting the lady’s room by the food court at La Plaza Mall, and decided to go back in and check to make sure.  But instead of finding a lost wallet or cell phone or a dropped bag of Hello Kitty birthday cards, she saw a little girl trying to hide under the sink.

Startled for a few seconds, wondering how it was possible that she had not seen this child when she had been standing right there just seconds before, she rubbed her eyes as if this was not real.  But the girl remained, and remained so very quiet.  She had to be hiding from someone as if stuck in a game she would not give up.

“Hey there,” Laina said and leaned in to look at the kid who was wearing what looked to be a pink ruffled party dress, and hot pink plastic sandals.  She looked flushed from running and her black hair was a matty bob that framed her rosy brown cheeks; her kid mouth was very red as if she had been playing with stolen makeup from her mother’s purse and maybe she had been doing just that and was hiding to not be found out.  The child seemed as if she could be no older than five. 

“Hello, hi there, what are you doing down there?  Are you waiting for someone?”  Laina could not be sure there was no one else in the restroom.  She had, after all, apparently not noticed this child a minute before when she was adjusting her eyeliner and rinsing powdered donut dust from her fingers before returning to the office.  She peered under the three toilet stalls and saw no feet, then looking back under the sink, saw that the child was shaking her head fast but smiling too as if shaking her head to enjoy the dizzy feeling.

“No, no one here for you?  Let me help you.  Come out.  Let’s look for your Mommie.” But when she reached down to try to touch the child, Laina was struck with a sense that this kid was unaware that she was even there and seemed blind or deaf or both.  Laina stopped and looked into the dirty face of the child, the eyes wide like very liquid ink marbles; all pupil, they seemed under the shadow of the sink and Laina did not touch her, just stood back up and started to step back to the door, studying the slowing sway of the little girl’s head. 

When her shoulders hit against the door, she leaned back and left the lady’s room, comforted by the sound of chatter and Muzak.  Her first instinct being to keep walking towards the glass mall doors, Laina instead looked around to see if anyone might be outside waiting for the little girl hiding under the sink.  There were people, sitting on plastic food court chairs, standing by the YOU ARE HERE mall map; the little girl could have belonged to anyone here but no one seemed to be looking for her. 

If she told someone about the kid, a mall cop or jewelry store clerk, would it seem over-reactive?  Kids hide and play alone.  That is normal.  Laina had done that many times as a kid, back when she herself wore pink ruffle dresses and used to steal her mother’s makeup out of the purse, in places like the mall or at birthday parties, she thought and then began to feel a kind of quiet dread.  Laina knew she had to leave and that as soon as she left the mall she would be okay.  She started walking to the glass exit doors, walking at a pace that made her feel as if she were pretending to be in no rush, the way a shoplifter might mimic a casual stride in a store.  But once she was outside in that bright day, the feeling that she had lost something remained with her as she started clicking the honk button on her car keys to hear where she had parked.  Whatever I have lost, I know can be found, she thought with a kind of terrible pride, and whatever was lost was perhaps lost for a very good reason.