Meena was a mother of three, so she was familiar with the sound of crying children, but this one was different. She could spot the little boy, with his pink cheeks and purple Crocs, stumbling along the edge of the fountain. She knew what that cry meant: mommy, mommy, mommy!
She transitioned into Mommy Mode immediately, pivoting the stroller so quickly that her kids squealed in elation. Scouring the nearby crowd for a possible parent of the child, she felt her heart sink in her chest. Everyone else in the park was either on the phone or avidly focused on another person; she could find no distressed mothers or fathers in the swarm of people.
She didn’t want to frighten him, so she approached slowly, sitting a few feet away to watch him. Her twin boys, Daniel and Sam, giggled and kicked at each other in the stroller; they were three years old, only a year or two younger than the lost boy beside her. If she lost one of them... She didn’t want to think about it.
Her infant, Alia, squirmed in her carrier, yawning and clenching her fists before sliding back to sleep. She watched as the little boy climbed onto the fountain’s border, his face red and patchy, hunting for his parent for a few seconds. While trying to climb back down, he slipped on the wet cement, and Meena immediately put her arm out to stop him from falling. He grasped her arm, still shaky, and held onto her as though she were his mother. She helped him down from the ledge even as he continued to cry; he mumbled something about being lost and his mommy, clutching his toy truck tightly in his hand.
“Do you know where you last saw her?” Meena asked him.
He shook his head furiously. “Mommy said... M-Mommy said...” He hiccuped. “N-not talk to strangers...”
“It’s okay,” she assured him. “It’s okay. I’ll stay here with you. I’ll wait—”
“N-no, M-mommy said, b-but she said...” His face suddenly lit up, and he sniffed wetly, wiping his sleeve across his face. “A baby!” he cried, suddenly entranced with the infant in front of him. “Mommy said” —another hiccup shook him— “go to another mommy with kids, a-a-and—”
“I have three kids,” Meena told him, crouching beside him. “This one here is Alia.”
His enormous eyes grew wide with awe as Meena’s baby flailed her arm in her sleep. “She’s so little...”
She smiled warmly. “And these are my boys.”
The oldest needed no introduction. “I’m Danny!”
Sam was always hesitant, but after a couple prompts he mumbled a reluctant “hello.”
“We’ll stay here with you, okay? Just until your mom comes back.”
Daniel was already enamored with his new friend. The other kid knew how to read some of the park signs and was willing to share his toy truck.
Meena had just finished speaking with the police, who promised to alert her if the mother called. She sat against the fountain, rocking Alia and watching the boys. Sam was still in the stroller, slurping from a juice box, while the other two splashed each other in the fountain.
* * *
It took almost an hour before Meena spotted a frantic blonde woman by the trees, running towards them as though Death were on her heels, followed by a policeman. “David!” she gasped.
The little boy whipped around, dropping his truck and completely forgetting Daniel. “Mommy!”
She ran and scooped him up, smothering her son in kisses. “Davie, oh, oh!” She pressed her lips to his head and hugged him tightly. “Don’t you ever do that to me again!” She turned to the police officer, clinging to her little boy as though she would never let go again. “Thank you, Officer; thank you so much.”
The dark-haired officer shrugged. “It wasn’t me who found him, ma’am. This lady here stayed with him and called him in.”
“Oh! Thank—” David’s mother pivoted and made a small strangled noise; her eyes fell on Meena. The woman’s gaze was penetrating, gunning her down where she stood. Instead of appreciation, she found only suspicion in the other woman’s stare; nervous, Meena adjusted her hijab and gave her a small wave.
The woman clutched her son tighter.
Abruptly, Daniel broke away from Meena and ran towards David and his mother. “Danny, no—” Meena began, but he was already halfway to his friend, clutching the other boy’s red truck in his tiny fist.
David’s mother looked up to find another little boy holding out a truck to her son. “You forgot,” he said, poking his friend in the leg even as his mother held him. “Here!”
Reluctant, the mother set David down so that he could take his toy back from Daniel. As soon as he was reunited with his truck, she seized her son’s hand. Her hesitance to thank Meena bled through her sweatshirt and stained the scene.
Danny rushed back to her, and as soon as his tiny form was within reach, she picked him up, smoothing his hair. With a jolt, Meena realized that they mirrored each other; like her, the woman was around thirty years old and holding her son.
The police officer cleared his throat. “Ms. Bukhari stayed with your son for a whole hour once she found him.” Meena flushed; the woman was only a few feet away from her now. David’s mother stepped towards her slowly, almost cautiously; to Meena’s surprise, she spoke.
“You found my son?” she asked.
Unnerved, she lifted her hand once again to fiddle with the edge of her hijab. “Yes.”
The mother of the little lost boy held out her hand tentatively for Meena to shake.
“Thank you,” she said.
Meena smiled, shifted Danny to her other arm, and shook firmly. “You’re welcome.”