Megan's Bath-- Chapter 2

(Note: This story begins with the blog post dated October 13, 2009.)

What had ultimately moved Maria to tears was a photograph, taken by a dermatologist several years ago, showing a close-up of Megan's bizarre rash: the diamond-shaped pattern that had manifested at her first bath. The skin had turned a mottled grayish-green color, marked with black spots. It closely resembled necrobiosis, save for the odd diamond pattern and for the fact that the flesh recovered completely when dry. Maria had never seen anything like it before, but seeing it now-- especially in connection with this little girl-- rattled every fiber of her being.

She remembered the story Ali had told her, the night she finally worked up the courage to dump him for good, after yet another one of his long, unexplained absences. For years afterward she had shaken with rage when she remembered what he had told her, at how offensive it was, especially when she knew precisely what he had actually been up to. As time had passed, her anger had subsided, replaced by pity and resignation; what did she expect, after all? He was an addict and had been for years, his arms marked by the telltale tracks that countless needles left behind. In fact, she wondered bitterly, if he himself had actually believed his own story. She couldn't really blame him for that, as it was a much better alternative to what he was actually struggling with. In fact, it showed just how hopeless and desperate he was that such a preposterous explanation was preferable to the pathetic truth.

But now, looking at this poor child's skin sample, she knew that his preposterous explanation had been the truth.

She lay awake all night, trying to figure out what to do next. After hours of alternating weeping and wondering, she managed to wring out a couple of hours of slumber. She was on duty at eight a.m. and off at four, so perhaps she could get over to the county office at the end of her shift in time.

In the morning a phone call revealed that her work day mirrored the county's hours of operation; she would have to wait until Monday, her day off. But she could make it over to the library this afternoon.

At four p.m. she cleaned her last bathroom, signed out and took the bus over to the little library. She approached the help desk, where a teenaged girl sat reading a book nonchalantly.

"Excuse me," she said. "Can you help me?"

The girl put down her book and looked at her inquiringly.

"I need to find an address," Maria ventured.

"Local?" asked the girl.

"No," said Maria. "In Virginia."

"You can find that on the Internet," the girl informed her, waving her hand towards a small cluster of PC's in the corner. "Password is 'turtle.'"

"I'm sorry," apologized Maria. "But I don't know how to use the Internet."

The girl's eyes widened. "Really?"

Maria smiled sheepishly and shook her head. "I haven't needed to until now."

"Have you ever used a computer before?"

Maria shook her head again.

The girl exhaled loudly. "Hmm. Okay, then." She stood up and walked out from behind the desk, gesturing at Maria to follow her. Maria did and the two sat down in front of one of the terminals in the corner. The girl punched T-U-R-T-L-E into the keypad, wiggled the mouse, and began clicking away. Maria tried to follow what she was doing, but it made no sense.

"We're closing in a bit, so we don't have a lot of time," the girl said as she clicked and typed and clicked. "Do you want me to show you how to do this, and then you'll have to come back another day and look up your info, or do you want me to just get it for you now?"

"Just get it now."

"No problem." A screen came up. "What's the name?"

"Ursis," replied Maria.

"Spell that?"

"U-R-S-I-S," said Maria. "I think."

"In Virginia?"

"Yeah."

"Well, it's not Smith or Jones or something like that, so that'll make it easier." The girl typed and clicked and another screen opened. "There's several of them. Do you have a first name?"

"Michael," said Maria. "Michael or Helen."

The girl typed some more and looked at the results. "There's five Michaels, no Helens. Do you know the city?"

Maria racked her brain; the show had said the town name, but now it escaped her. "Started with a R, I think."

"Two are in Roanoke." Was it Roanoke?

"That's not it." Maria shook her head.

"Let's try just M." The girl studied the list. "There's a few...here's one in Reston."

"That's it," said Maria suddenly.

The girl pointed at the listing and Maria copied it down slowly, her hand shaking. She folded the paper over and stood up. "Thank you," she said to the girl.

"No problem," said the girl. "You know, come back over when we have more time and I'd be happy to show you how to use the Internet. It's a great tool."

Not interested, Maria smiled politely. "Perhaps I will."

Maria returned back home, retrieved a piece of paper and a blank envelope, and sat down to write. She printed two lines:

I know what is wrong with your daughter. If you would like my help, please write to me at the return address.

She signed the note and packaged it in the envelope, then mailed it from the rental office at work the next day.

On Monday, she took the bus over to the county complex and walked into the public safety division.

"May I help you?" the officer asked.

"I need to report a missing person," replied Maria.

"Okay." The officer pulled out a form and a pen. "Adult or child?"

"Adult."

"Male or female?"

"Male."

"How long since he was last seen?"

Maria swallowed hard. "Twenty-three years."