Part 3

As soon as those words left her mouth she felt a cold pang of stupidity. "I need help finding my brother", Risa repeated the words in her head. "This is so stupid! What did I think, that this boy would suddenly have answers for me? What did I think he'd say? 'Oh, I'm so glad you came in Risa, the kidnappers left a forwarding address for you, we should get your brother back before suppertime. It's a good thing you stopped by today." Risa squeezed her fists into tight balls crushing the paper in her hand. She saw the expression on the clerks face soften. She wondered if she looked that visibly upset.

The boy ran his fingers into his dark hair. He didn't pass it all the way through but rather kept his palm flat against his temple and curled his fingers, scratching at his scalp. He had a worried look on his face. Worried? Maybe pity, Risa pondered. Then she was baffled by her next thought: "He doesn't use any hair products. No gel, no hair spray, well, maybe a little mousse". This off line train of thought infuriated Risa further. Here she was, on a grand mission to find her missing brother. To succeed where the police and seasoned investigators had failed, and she was wondering about a boy's hair style choices! After what seemed like an eternity of silence the boy spoke.

"I'd talked with your brother," he began softly "a few times when I was here working. This place was like a second home to him I think." He managed a small smile.

"So you knew exactly who I was talking about." Risa said with unintentional exasperation. She was tired of the pitying looks she'd always get. Everyone would get doe eyed around her. They would either spew forth canned sayings that they may have seen on a Hallmark card, or they would fumble with their words, eventually settling on 'I'm sorry'.

She felt a tinge of regret as she noticed that her quick response had had more bite than she intended. The boy used a nervous smile to deflect her harsh tone.

"It's kind of a small town you know," he tried to coolly shrug of her remark, "and its hard not know since I work here." His hand had finally left his forehead as he gestured around the comic book shop. Risa was worried that her words may still have inadvertent barbs so she chose to keep her jaws clamped shut. Thankfully, the boy seemed to notice her deference and continued on.

"The police investigators did come by a couple times. They spoke with the me, and the owner, and the other employees but there really wasn't anything out of the ordinary that happened when Ca..." his voice faltered, "your brother stopped by the store". Risa had noticed this phenomenon in others. They didn't seem to want to say Caleb's name. They always referred to him as "your brother".

Why did people do that? Did saying his name make him "more gone"? The frustration continued to build inside her and she furrowed her brow. The boy noticed this reaction as well. He moved quickly trying somehow to vent some of the pressure he could sense was growing inside her.

"Unfortunately we didn't have much information for the police. They took all of the security video we had," the boy pointed to a small, reflective black orb attached to the ceiling above the register. Behind the black plexiglass orb sat a small surveillance camera that spied on the store.

"Back then we only kept about a weeks worth of digital video to because of storage issues on the computer. Your brother hadn't been into the store for a week, before..." his voice lost it's power again. Risa looked down to try and save him from feeling ashamed for telling the truth.

"I also spoke with the private detective" he said hastily, of course trying to change the subject, "he seems like a very driven guy." Risa titled her head up and raised an eye brow.

"A driven guy?" Risa muttered. Edwin Wardell, or Inspector Wardell as he liked to announce, struck Risa as many things, but she hadn't considered him "driven". However, in retrospect that adjective fit Wardell to the T. Even given his lack of finding anything substantial anyone would agree that he did possess a zealous pursuit of Caleb's trail. Risa thought him a strange man who used big words when simpler ones would do. He showed little patience but always treated her mother with a deft and delicate touch. I suppose, Risa thought, that if I were to go missing, I would want someone like Wardell looking for me.

Risa could tell that her words had stung again. This was not going well, she thought. "I'm supposed to be asking this guy for help, and I'm being a sarcastic bitch". She looked up at him. He brandished that nervous smile again like a shield. Risa could sense that it was a practiced smile, one that he had probably used more times than he could count. She felt another surge of guilt for she was the reason he had needed it again.

"I'm sorry," she offered quickly "I don't mean to sound mean or anything. Its just, I just" Risa tried to find the words, "I don't even know what I'm doing down here. The police have already come here. Wardell has been here. I don't know what I'm doing!"

"You're doing what any big sister would," his smile changed. It was no longer a smile of pity nor a defensive barrier against her attacks. To Risa it looked like a smile of pride. "You're doing the best you can". Risa had steeled herself when she came downtown to visit the store for herself, but with two short sentences, this store clerk had dented her walls of isolation.

"Did you know Caleb?"

"I spoke with him a couple times. I remembered him apart from the other kids because of his knowledge of the comics. And it wasn't just the superhero or supergirls in bikinis stuff for him. He had an awesome respect of the history of some of these comics. Its just something you don't see everyday." The boy spoke with great enthusiasm.

"He's always loved them, " Risa acknowledged ruefully.

"He seemed like a really smart kid. He kept us on our toes. He kinda acted older than some of the guys who work here." The boy was trying to keep things light, Risa thought.

"He had to grow up fast when our dad left." This time Risa couldn't hide the sharpness in her voice. She really had to stop that.

"I was always amazed that" pause "Caleb came down here on his own." Risa assumed the boy was now going to try and share with her some of his pleasant memories of "her brother".

"Even at his age," the boy continued "he was riding the metro bus. I'm still scared to ride the metro bus today". Risa knew the boy was trying to make small talk. Trying to cheer her up. Her mother's therapist always implored them to 'share their feelings' and 'talk about the situation'. There had been enough talk. Something needed to be done. However, in this instance, Risa's resolve was shattered.

The metro bus. The metro bus had been the key to the whole police investigation. Risa could replay the grainy black and white surveillance footage from the bus in her mind as if it were a memory that had been charred into her synapses with a branding iron. It was the last documented footage of Caleb.