Mathilda (Five of Five)

Going back to Mathilda's, I saw kids running through the street again. Kept going from house to house, but all day long, they went across the street. None of them even came close to Mathilda's, even though it was the quickest way to get anywhere. Mathilda said that kids took the sidewalk in front of her yard all the time.

We went outside, waited until the kids got close. I told her too loud we weren't gonna find that gnome. She started sobbing like someone cracked her upside the head. The kids watched a bit, then went back to their play.

Time for plan B. I flashed my badge, corralled all of them, told em I knew one of em did it, but I couldn't figure out which, and I was gonna have to take em all down to the station. They all started leaning away from a couple of boys with frowns on their faces. I grabbed em, one in each hand, dragged them by their shirt collars to Mathilda. They hissed and squirmed, wouldn't even look her in the eye.

Bobby finally took us to his backyard, through his house. His parents followed all of us, both of them sighing like this wasn't the first time. Him and Lev dragged a box out from the tool shed. I flipped it open and reached in, nicked my hand real deep. Mathilda's gnome had a giant hole in the top where I cut myself, a bunch of porcelain bits inside it. They tried to jump over the gnome last night, cracked it with their feet. Mom shook her head. Dad shook his fist. I asked why they didn't just leave it. They said TV shows said to always get rid of the body.

They called Lev's parents over, and all the parents were screaming and yelling. Then Mathilda started bawling, everyone shut up, and she told everyone about Harry, the last thing he bought. There was more screaming and yelling. I asked what if we glued it back together. Bobby and Lev thought I was crazy, cause there were a jillion pieces. Mathilda blew her nose and said it was her last reminder of Henry.

I went back four more Saturdays to help. Most of the time, I just sat there picking up the pieces like some dumb monkey. Every once and a while, I'd find a match. Eventually, we got it back together. Mathilda was so happy she started crying again. Like how the gnome reminded her of a loved one, my cornflower reminds me of a loved one. I guess the scar does, too.

[This man hoards his emotion, and very rarely exposes it to the world. I suppose I shouldn't be surprised at his admission, but his mother is still alive, and Mark didn't strike me as a man obsessed with cornflowers. I've seen how he looks at Becca, even if he doesn't realize how he looks at her. There's a woman that Trace has never mentioned, will not mention to me. How can I find out who she is? -Dara]