What Goes Around

What Comes Around 

Jake stood in the middle of the aisle, hanging onto the handle of the stroller. The empty stroller. A few minutes ago, it held two and a half year old Trevor. 

He scanned the floor of the department store. Any direction he looked, he saw clothes hanging from circular racks. Dresses, blouses, slacks and sweaters were grouped according to sizes stencilled on large tags mounted above the circular tubes. Women browsed, admired and touched the displays. Approaching noon, the large department store bustled with shoppers.

A loudspeaker blared throughout the store advertising a spontaneous sale in the houseware section, located on the basement floor. Jake strained to block out the announcement for any toddler’s cry, between the words. 

His eyes shifted quickly from one direction to another while his hands gripped the handle. His knuckles turned white. His breathing turned erratic.

Not five minutes earlier, his wife picked several dresses from the racks and darted to the change room. She was trying on dinner dresses to wear to an upcoming party. 

Jake was in charge of Trevor.

His heart pounded louder and louder with every direction he turned. He had gone full circle at least twice. 

How could Trevor disappear so fast? he asked himself. One minute he was standing beside me stroller and the next, he was gone. 

“Anyone seen a little boy around here?” he asked, his throat constricting tighter with each word until the last two words were barely audible to the shoppers in his immediate vicinity. He needed help to find his little boy, his little lost boy. 

People stopped and turned towards his voice. Some shook their heads. Some stared. “Gotta be responsible,” someone said. “Call security,” someone else offered. 

Jake screamed inside at the responses. His body shook. Within seconds, people resumed their shopping. 

He wanted to shout his rage but even swallowing was difficult. His throat was dry as the desert. 

Instead, he twisted his hands around the handle. Gripping. Gripping. Gripping with his knuckles. 

A cold sweat flooded his body. 

Seven seconds, he thought. He was getting restless. I lifted him from the stroller. I set him on the floor. Jake shook his head as if to erase his actions. He stared down at the empty stroller. Must be when I spotted a dress that Jenny might like and picked it from the rack. 

Seven seconds to disappear. 

Jake was aware of the seconds expanding to minutes. Minutes that were draining his body. 

He spun around in a full circle again, his eyes flicking left, right, up and down.

Nothing. 

“Trevor,” he called. “Trev, where are you?” Panic rose in his voice no matter how hard he tried to cover it. He swallowed and called in a more authoritative voice, "Trevor, come to daddy.”

He listened for the slightest sound, listening and waiting for Trevor’s voice or footsteps. Only the hum and din of shoppers filled the air. 

As with any toddler, he was easily swayed. A bite of chocolate, a lick of ice cream or a small toy could catch his attention and be a carrot to walk up to a stranger.

Jake’s breath became ragged. A whine trailed out of his mouth. 

He didn’t want to walk too far from his original place in case Trevor wandered back. Yet he needed to search a little further. His son’s steps might be little but they travelled fast.

Jake stood on tiptoes and searched over the bars of clothes. 

No little Trevor.

Flashes of his own disappearance in a department store jolted his memory. Although older at the time, he recalled in vivid detail hiding from his mother in a similar situation. He thought it was funny, a big joke, to hide. He never considered the consequences on his mom. How could he at that age? 

He remembered ducking under a rack of dresses and squatting. The dresses covered him completely. He put both hands in front of his mouth to stifle the giggles. He could hear his mom calling but he dared not move. He stayed still as a statue.

He thought the game was fun for everyone. They often played hide and seek at home and when he was found, everyone squealed and hugged each other. He loved the part where his father grabbed him and rolled with him on the floor, both giggling and squealing. 

How could this be any different? When his mom spotted his feet below the rack of clothes and pulled him out, she was crying. It wasn’t so much fun then. He didn’t mean to make her cry. He wanted to hug and roll on the floor with her. 

Later when they got home, he was scolded by his dad for making his mom worried. He was never to play that game again in a store–only at home. He didn’t understand the differences at that time. How one situation causes tears and another causes laughter. 

Now, Jake stood in the middle of the aisle, perspiration forming on his lip and heart racing like a piston shooting up and down. His hands were slippery on the handles and he wiped them on his jeans.

He knelt and lowered his head to the floor, looking under the racks of clothes. 

Nothing.

He twisted his body twenty-five degrees and his eyes searched.

He saw nothing.

Jake repeated it again and saw nothing. He twisted his body again and whimpered.

In the middle of the rack was Trevor, sitting on the floor, cross-legged. He covered his eyes with his hands.

He was playing hide-and-seek.

Jake jumped up so fast, he knocked into the stroller. Both tumbled to the floor.

With a roll, he leapt to his feet and ran over to the rack. He knelt down, pushed the clothes aside and grabbed Trevor. 

He pulled him to safety, into his arms. He stood and buried his head into Trevor’s body, sobbing like a three year old.

Trevor giggled and laughed at being found. Hide-and-seek was so much fun for a toddler.

Jake’s sobbing reduced as he tried to smile along with Trevor’s giggles. Tension oozed from his body the more he hugged Trevor. 

His wife appeared around the corner, carrying clothes from the change room. She stopped suddenly when she saw Jake and Trevor. “Everything all right?” came out in a whisper.

Jake smiled and said, “Remind me the next time I see my mother, to apologize to her.”

“Sure,” she said, drawing out the word, looking puzzled.

“What goes around, comes around,” Jake said as he lowered Trevor into his stroller.