Chapter 18
Life settles down… most of the time
As the days became weeks, Nutmeg’s “new parents” continued to bring her “home” for periods of from half a day to a long weekend. They also began dealing with some behavioral and sibling rivalry issues. These they shared with the foster parents’ support group which met each Wednesday evening in one of the homes. The Braidons were not shy and often asked for help and support.
“What do you do when your new child is obviously a better student than your own kid?” They asked. It seemed Nutmeg had tried to help older sister Kim with some reading assignments, and Kim did not react well, telling her to “bug off and go get lost, you creep!” Nutmeg had responded with a fierce temper tantrum and crying nearly all night, inconsolable even when Kim had apologized and assured her she had not meant her words literally. For Nutmeg, the words meant not only that her new sister didn’t like her, but that she wanted Nutmeg gone from her life forever – more than she could bear.
As we all knew, Nutmeg was an adept manipulator, and as she tried to adjust to her new home and family, she showed these skills repeatedly. She used tears, tantrums, even running away as she struggled with her own issues of self worth and feeling worthy of having a “forever real family.”
It was about 1:30 A.M. in the morning about two months after Nutmeg had begun her longer visitations when I received a frantic call from Sue and Jack.
“We are terribly sorry to wake you at this hour,” began Jack on the phone. “Nutmeg has disappeared and we don’t know where she could have gone.”
“When did you miss her?” I asked.
“Well, Sue and I stayed up watching the Late Night Show and were just going to bed about a half hour ago and we stopped in each of the girls’ rooms to check on them before settling in for the night. Kim is here . She was asleep. We woke her up, but she doesn’t know anything. Nutmeg didn’t say anything to her, but we cannot find Nutmeg and we’ve pretty much combed the neighborhood looking.”
“Have you called the police?” I asked.
“No. We weren’t sure whether to do that yet.” Jack’s voice shook and dwindled as he tried to control his anxiety.
“Please hang up and call them. I will be there shortly, “I said. “Be sure to tell them she is a Children’s Garden Foster Child and tell them I am on my way to your house.” The Marin County Sherriff’s Department had dealt with our kids over a decade, and knew both how to find the kid and how to help the parents through the ordeal.
“OK,” replied Jack. I could hear Kim crying in the background as I too hung up, got out of bed, and headed for the bathroom to wash my face, wake up and get dressed for an all-nighter. A few minutes later I was on the road to Mill Valley to the Braidon home.
When I arrived at Strawberry Hill I found two police cars parked outside the Braidon home. Neither had flashing lights or sirens on as they were aware these could frighten one of our children badly, and also wake up the entire neighborhood. Sergeant Bill Tilden, a specialist in child welfare and abuse met me at the door. I was surprised to see him.
“Bill, my goodness, how come you’re out on a run-away?” I asked.
“Just filling in for Don, “he replied. “His wife is having a baby right now and Don’s holding down the fort with his older kids.
“Ah -- Well, what do we know?”
“Not much,” Bill said. “Doesn’t seem to be any reason anybody knows about why this kid split.”
“Hey, you know as well as I there often isn’t any rational reason, “I said.
“Yeah -- but I always want one anyhow,” Bill replied grinning sheepishly.
At this point, Sue Braidon came running into my arms. “Oh Helen, I don’t know what we did .- where could she be?”
“You probably did nothing at all to cause her to run, Sue. Don’t start feeling guilty, now. We’ll find her.” I tried to soothe Sue’s guilt and fears. “Let’s go into the kitchen and have some tea,” I urged Sue. I knew that keeping busy was a good antidote for the anxiety and guilt parents always felt at such times.
“Oh sure … never thought about it,” Sue replied and began to bustle toward the kitchen all ablaze with lights.
Meanwhile Kim approached me saying “Miss Helen, I don’t know why Katy left. I really don’t.” She seemed to be feeling put upon and I noted her Dad had been talking with her.
“I am sure you don’t, Kim. Please don’t think we feel you are responsible,” I said and took her hand, trying to assure her.
Jack Braidon looked at me with tears in his eyes. “Why would she do this?” he asked. .“We didn’t discipline her. We haven’t needed to this weekend. Everything was going so well. Why?” he pleaded with me.
“We may not know why for some time, Jack. But we will find her, please sit down while we wait. Have a cup of tea with your wife and me. We all need to calm down and be patient.” I explained that the police would likely do a thorough home search and would have already alerted the police in Marin and neighboring counties who were patrolling the roads and streets. Jack wanted to drive around himself looking, but the Sergeant and I urged both parents to stay put in the house in case Nutmeg returned on her own.
Kim asked quietly, “Do I have to stay up too?”
“Aren’t you worried?” asked Jack.
“Well yes, but I’m sleepy, Dad,” Kim complained. “Sheesh -- you woke me up!” she whined.
“Kim,” Jack said in a rather threatening deep voice. I could see that he was upset to think his daughter wanted to go back to bed.
“It’s OK, Kim. Jack, if Kim is tired and needs her sleep, let’s let her make that decision,” I intervened.
“You’re sure you don’t know anything?” Jack questioned his daughter.
“I told you, no. She just went to her bedroom and closed the door after we played a couple of games on the computers. She didn’t say anything other than ‘goodnight.’” Kim exploded to her father rather angrily. “Now can I go to bed, please?”
“OK, Kim, but I can’t believe you can sleep.” Jack replied.
Kim stomped out of the room angrily and ran up the stairs, slamming her bedroom door.
Sue, looking worried, said” That’s not like her, Jack. Something’s wrong.”
Sergeant Tilden interrupted: “Do you know what she was wearing, perhaps?” Both parents shook their heads. “She had gone to bed -- maybe pj’s? “ I tried to answer him for them as they both were upset.
“And this is the best picture of her you’ve got?” he asked holding up a snapshot of her with Buffy, the dog.
“They nodded agreement.”
“Bill, Children’s Garden has a good portrait of her. I can get it at the office if you want.”
“That’s a great idea, Helen. Would you please?”
“Of course,” I said while putting on my coat. “I’ll be back shortly, I said to the sergeant and parents, and headed out the kitchen door.
“Wait, Johnnie here will take you. No point in driving in this fog yourself,” said Sergeant Bill.
So I was escorted, I think breaking the speed limit, back to Novato and Children’s Garden offices, where I quickly accessed Nutmeg’s file and pictures, taking a couple along for the police to use as they needed. A good hour and a little more had passed by the time we returned. I looked questioning at the Sergeant as we went in the kitchen door.
“Nothing yet.” He said.
I sat down at the table where Sue poured me some tea and urged me to take a muffin. It was now after 4:00 A.M. and all any of us could think about was that little almost eight-year-old out there somewhere in the fog. It was now drizzling rain and was damp and chilly as nights along the Bay often are.
“So – tell me how this visit has been,” I said to Sue and Jack.
“It has gone really well.” Sue began. “We picked Katy up from school Friday afternoon and she’s been with us since. Friday night we just kind of hung around
here, played some games together, had a barbecue dinner outside on the patio -- just a usual Friday night here, really. The girls went to bed about nine. Well, they went upstairs about nine, we heard them giggling still at 10, but they were both asleep in their respective rooms when we went up at 11 ourselves. We had promised the girls a trip to Pier 39 on Saturday morning, so we all were up and out of here by 9 AM. Jack drove us over the bridge to Pier 39 and we all watched the big ships dock and had breakfast at The Eagle Café. The girls both love their huge breakfasts. After breakfast, the girls rode the Carousel. Nutmeg had never seen it before and she was awe-struck by the horses. We wandered around the pier, watched the seals, and the girls begged us for a whale-watch ride, so we took the three hour one along the coast. By the time that was over, it was time for dinner, so we just stayed at the Pier and ate a fine supper at Neptune’s. The girls both loved their crab cakes and the view of the sunset there is spectacular. It was really a lovely happy day, and as we drove over the bridge on the way home, Katy remarked: “I can’t believe I am really here.”
Jack interrupted: “Sergeant says they’ve had a sighting, they think, but in Oakland!”
“Oakland! How in the world would that little one get to Oakland in the middle of the night?” Sue asked.
“I don’t know, Mrs. B, but that’s the one sighting we’ve had. They have her at the police station. They seem pretty sure it’s your kid. Helen, will you go over there with me and identify?”
“Sure ... let’s go,” I said.
Sue and Jack wanted to go as well, and while we understood their eagerness, we felt it best they stay at the house. We promised to call the minute we got to Oakland’s police station to tell them the news, good or bad.
Bill and I went out into the drizzle and fog, climbed into the Sheriff’s car and he waited till we got to US 101 away to turn on his siren. It was nearly 6 A. M. and early morning traffic was pretty heavy as we approached the Richmond Bridge. As we headed downtown, I turned to Jack. “How sure are they that this kid is Nutmeg?” I asked.
“Well, they seem to feel pretty sure. She’s black, got frizzy hair, and says her name is Katherine.”
“Katherine? I don’t think our Katy would ever use that name!” I exclaimed.
“You think this is a wild goose chase?”
“Could be,” I muttered, just sure it was probably so.
Finally we arrived at the Downtown Oakland Station and went inside. We were met by a large burly officer who said, “You the folks from Mill Valley?” They got her in the chief’s office,” he reported.
He escorted us down a long dark hallway to the Chief’s office door where we knocked.
“Come in -- Ah, Sergeant Tilden and -?” He looked up at Bill questioning who I was.
Extending my hand for a shake I introduced myself. “I am Helen Kelly from Children’s Garden,” I said. I glanced at the little girl sitting in a big leather chair near the Chief’s desk. It was not our Nutmeg. The poor thing was sobbing and all curled up in a ball. She looked terrified.
I shook my head: “It’s not her” I said quietly to both men. The chief looked sheepish and said: “We’re getting nowhere with her…”
“I am sorry, but I must get back.” I could hear the unspoken request to take her off his hands. Maybe call County DSS emergency number,” I suggested.
“Yeah OK -- good idea.” The chief replied.
We left with as much speed as we could respectfully muster. Now I really was worried. It had been over seven long hours and there was still no word of Nutmeg,