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Charles looked down at the small boy now tentatively playing with a set of duplo blocks. His small hands seemed nervous as they gently clicked the blocks together. A red, then blue, then a green. He was quite the artist. Charles smiled. He finally had a little boy that he could finally call his son.
“Hey Harry” Charles’ tone was quieter. More soothing than the aggressive and boisterous tone that his voice usually held. His little boy was fragile.
“Can I play with you?”
The little boy looked up. Blinked. A shy smile. Harry gave a small nod at his new father, still unsure how to really fit in. Three days ago he had been sitting in a scummy orphanage in a country that he couldn’t quite remember getting to. Harry had heard stories at the orphanage and had a vague recollection of the screaming face of a walrus looking man and a horse faced woman.
But that still didn’t help him know who he was or where he had come from. But somehow the now four year old boy had ended up on the steps of a Latvian orphanage two years before. So now as Harry sat, surrounded by toys all he had were questions.
Would this be the forever home that the other kids had talked about? Would he have to leave if he was bad? Would he really have a new papa?
A green block came into Harry’s vision. The piece placed atop a blue. Harry looked to the man, papa, he corrected in his mind. A small smile on his face.
“Here now Harry. If you put this on here, we can start making a farm.” Charles placed the blocks together, next to the pigs and cows. Harry gave a nod. It looked good.
The next two hours were spent building up towers, filling them with people and animals alike. Giving them homes. Giving them a place to live.
“Shall we make our home Harry?”
Harry looked up at the man with an unsure curiosity sparkling in his eyes.
“Home?”
It was the first word that Harry had spoken since he had arrived. Charles looked at the boy with a wonder in his eyes. Yet then he felt a sadness. His black haired angel still didn’t understand.
“Yes. Home Harry. Our home, together. You, me and your mama Genevieve. We’ll live here together.”
The piercing green eyes gazed at the man that seemed to claim too much to be true.
“Forever?”
It was a little above a whisper.
“Forever”
Charles pulled the small boy into his arms, tightly squeezing the small frame. Little arms wrapped around the back, as a small face buried itself in the blue shirt. In that moment Harry knew that he had a papa.
Harry had been in his new home for six months. Everything was going well. None of that freaky stuff had happened. He had enough to eat. A nice bed and more toys than he could count. But. there was one problem. Right now, he missed his papa.
For the first three months of new life in his new home, papa had been there everyday. He had tucked him in, woken him up and played with him. He had aught him different games and then they had played them together.
For two more months his papa had been at work. But papa had still been there. He cooked him breakfast in the morning and he read him a bed time story at night. They hadn’t played as much, but they had had the weekends. Going to the park or sitting in and drinking cocoa when it rained.
But the past month had been horrible. It had been so horrible. Papa was never at home. Harry barely saw him and when he did the man was tired, verging on exhausted. He missed him so much.
So when Harry woke up, another nightmare leaving him breathless, it was not his mama that he wanted. No. He wanted his papa.
Harry didn’t know how. Harry wasn’t sure what he did. But one minute he was lying in bed, silent tears on his face. Then the next he was standing in front of a large beige building.
Harry looked up with watery green eyes. He knew this place. His papa had showed him it before. This was where he worked. A police station. A police station with his papa inside. This was where Harry needed to be. Harry walked inside.
The elevator dinged, the doors opening on the third floor.
The floor was mostly empty. Only a few members of staff still at their desks at such an early hour. But those that were there, whipped around at the unexpected interruption in the nightly hell that they were living in.
Harry looked around the floor, four sets of eyes pinning on him.
His papa’s desk was just a few feet away. But, there was no papa. Harry shrugged, he would just have to wait. He was used to waiting. Most of his life had been waiting.
Harry’s bare feet padded along the beige floor. It was the same colour as the building. His bright blue pyjamas stood out harshly against it.
“Sarge?” the voice of a woman glued to her phone drew Harry’s attention.
“There’s a…a child?” The mobile was still in her hands even as she gained the attention of the large bald man who looked as though he could crush Harry into pieces with his hands.
The man looked to Harry and the little boy had to repress the squeak at the intimidating form.
“Harry?”
Harry looked wide eyed at the man. He was so tall. Harry wondered if he’d ever be that tall. He hoped so. His papa was so small.
The man was soon by Harry’s side, squatting so that his face was level with Harry’s much smaller one. He held out a hand that was nearly the size of Harry’s whole body. But as the man got closer Harry recognised his face.
“Terry” Harry gave a shy smile. “Where’s my papa?”
Charles’ phone rang just as they were pulling into the parking lot of the second records office, cutting off the music. Charles looked down at the caller ID. The Sarge. What did he want?
“Just a minute Jake. It’s the Sarge”
Charles picked up the phone.
“Hi Sarge, what’s up?”
“Hey Boyle. You need to come back to the station as soon as you can.”
“But we’re really close to solving this…” he was cut off.
“Boyle. Your son is here.”
“What?” Charles shouted down the line. “Is he okay? What happened? What…”
“He’s fine Charles. Absolutely fine. He said he wanted his papa. I’ve given him some cocoa and he’s in the break room with Santiago.”
“But how…” Charles cut himself off this time.
“I dont know Boyle. Just get back here as soon as you can. I’ve tried Genevieve but I can’t get a hold of here. She’s probably asleep.”
“I’ll be there as soon as I can.”
Charles turned to Jake with a slightly wild look in his eyes. It was one that Jake had never seen there before.
“Get back to the precinct.” Charles almost barked out.
“But the case..”
“Now!” Charles shouted.
Jake only nodded. He didn’t need to be told twice. Especially in that tone.
It took only thirty minutes before Charles was desperately pressing at the elevator buttons, his finger jamming repeatedly onto the number three.
“That doesn’t make it go any faster.” Jake joked.
But Charles ignored him, only pushing it harder. It was long seconds before the doors of the elevators dinged. Charles didn’t wait until they were fully open. Instead he ran through the precinct as though the hounds of hell were on his heels.
Shoes skidded on the floor as Charles pushed his way into the break room. Sitting on a couch that was far from clean, sat his little boy. Bare feet and spaceship blue pyjamas.
“Papa” the boy nearly shrieked.
It wasn’t clear who had leapt first, but soon the little boy was tightly wrapped into Charles’ arms. The little legs wrapping around his waist.
“I’m here Harry.”
Charles didn’t need his questions answered now. All he knew was that his baby was safe. That was all that mattered.