Monday, October 24th, 2011 - Part 2

     “Hello, Mayor Mills?” Dr. Hopper’s voice rang clear in my ear. I ran through my house, feeling the floor against my feet and looking out my living room window for fog.

     “Dr. Hopper?” I looked out at the clear night, and was thrilled to respond of my own free will. Somehow, I’d beaten the curse!

     “I’m sorry to be calling you so late, but I just wanted to ask if Henry was all right? He didn’t show up for yesterday’s session, and it would weigh on my conscience if I didn’t check with you to make sure he was fine.”

     “Not to worry, doctor.” I’d lost a day—it was apparently Sunday night. Who knew where Henry was? My moment of elation was gone. I tried to mask my devastation. He couldn’t know that I knew. “I forgot to tell you that he was going to an event at the park yesterday. An all-day soccer game or something.”

     “There wasn’t a soccer game at the park yesterday. I spent my lunch at the park, and I didn’t see anything like that there.”

     I thanked him for letting me know and called Graham to report my son missing. He came over right away, and I could let out more of what I was really feeling with him. My son was gone, and I was never going to see him again.

     But then, not even an hour passed, and a miracle occurred: Henry came home! But he wasn’t alone. A blonde woman in her late twenties stood with him in my front yard. She introduced herself as Emma Swan, and said she was Henry’s biological mother.

     I knew this was a possibility, and I had even hoped a little that Henry might find her if he couldn’t be with me. But as soon as I saw her, everything clicked in my head. Letting Henry go was the sacrifice the book of riddles called for to release myself from the curse. I brought the savior right to town. If I’d ever doubted that Henry’s birth mother was the savior, it was all gone.

     But good, I decided. She had brought Henry back and had freed me. Now she could leave and I could raise my son without fear. She was ready to go back to Boston, in fact. I could’ve let her leave, but no, I had to be nice and offer her something to drink. Damn my hospitable nature! I don’t know if, by accepting a drink from me, it trapped her in Storybrooke as though it were a fairy world—or if she just did it on purpose—but she crashed her car and ended up in jail.

     I didn’t discover this until after the sun came up, however. I knocked on Henry’s door this morning to make sure he was ready for school, only to discover he’d run away again. This time, I went straight to the sheriff’s station, and there she was, locked in a cell. Miss Swan denied having anything to do with it, of course, but I know she’s influenced him. She did the decent thing, at least, by offering to help find him. I brought her back to my house, with Graham to keep an eye on her. She went up to Henry’s room, got into his computer, and found the site he used to find her. She also discovered that he’d used Mary Margaret’s credit card to pay for use on the site. Miss Swan left for Storybrooke Elementary to question the motives of Henry’s teacher, and returned with Henry by the time the sun had set again.

     Henry ran past me, and I was forced to be polite to Miss Swan, once more. But then she expressed pleasure in seeing him, and I addressed the threat, instantly. I warned her that there was no way she would get my son, and there would be consequences if she tried. Once I felt I’d made my point, I turned to leave her in shock, as I like to do.

     “Do you love him?” Her words made me whip back around.

     “Excuse me?!”

     “Henry,” she had the nerve to say his name as though she needed to clarify. “Do you love him?”

     “Of course, I love him!”

     She just stared at me. I stood there and stared right back, because I didn’t know what on earth she was doing. Maybe she’s slow? I was about to repeat myself in a more basic way, when she turned and left.   

     I went inside and locked the door behind me. There were many things to talk about with Henry, now that I could. I went upstairs and knocked on his door.

     “Henry.” I pushed on his door and it opened easily. For as angry as he had been, he didn’t lock his door. I could only take that as a sign that he felt safe here, whether he wanted to admit it or not. “We need to talk about you stealing Miss Blanchard’s credit card.”

     He was sound asleep. I suppose two full days of running away from home can do that to a ten-year-old. His backpack was not far away. I reached inside and pulled out the book he didn’t think I knew about. I’ve got my son back and no one was going to take him from me; certainly not that blonde woman with a staring problem. She did her part, and I’ll get her out of here and rule these people with confidence once more.