Wednesday, September 9, 2015

Missing Since Monday, a review, Part the Second.

Ladies and gentlemen, I regret to put before you my recap of the next five chapters of Missing Since Monday, wherein Maggie knows nothing, the cops do nothing, and Lay is a nervous wreck. 

Chapter five: Questions! Maggie calls the police, sounding like a basket case, and answers their questions. Then, while she's waiting for them to send an officer over, she tries to call Dad and Frito/Leigh, but the overseas operator can't find them. Then, the phone rings. She thinks it's Courtenay for a few moments, but then realizes it's her friend the funny-voiced stalking caller asking if she's alone. She screams "no," hangs up, and calls the high school for Mike. Then the phone rings again and she refuses to answer it in case it's the stalking caller. The phone stops after three rings. Maggie and I hope it wasn't Courtenay calling for help or anything important like that.
Maggie sits down, wondering if Frito will "disclaim [her] as a stepdaughter." I wonder if the police will do what they always do nowadays, and assume that the mood-swinging mother who is sometimes too overprotective to give her child a mint, and sometimes so lax she leaves the country for an island vacation where she can't be reached by phone, is the culprit.
The house creaks randomly, making Maggie wonder if she's alone or not. Then a random storm breaks complete with thunder, lightning, and probably Jacob Marley clanking his chains somewhere in the house. Subtlety is not Ann M. Martin's strong suit.
The actual rain begins just as Mike and two police officers arrive at the same time.
The officers, Stuart and Martinez, look barely older than Mike. They begin to ask questions, all the answers to which we are treated to in real time. I don't really mind except that this would have been a much better time to give necessary exposition than in the first chapter... Maggie is telling the officers everything she told us already in chapter one as a clumsy wad of internal monologue. We needed to know almost none of it prior to this chapter.
Anyway, the officers and Maggie and Mike have a back-and-forth that's fairly informative and entertaining, as such things go. Courtenay's age is finally revealed as four (five in July), and her middle name is Louise. I'm surprised that they didn't give that name a trendy spelling too; something like "Louieghz." The officers ask about Maggie's real mother, which she takes exception to. Shouldn't they be out searching for Courtenay?
Maggie is then shocked when the officers suggest that Courtenay was kidnapped instead of just randomly wandering off. The thought hadn't yet occurred to her.
Mike takes over answering questions while her sister broods. He explains that their mother moves around a lot. It's not that she doesn't love them; it's just that she likes a lot of space because she's an "old hippie." 
Maggie is shocked again when the officers mention that the FBI wants their mother's last known address.
Then they ask about Lay-- is this her first marriage? No it is not; she was married previously to a man named Tierno, who left her childless. Apparently they wanted children very much. Maggie is insulted when they ask if Tierno might be Courtenay's real father. Mike and Maggie keep on talking about Tierno as if he's a shadowy figure they've never met, until the officer asks for his first name... and then we get this line from Maggie:
"Wait! Yes, we do know it, Mike! He runs a bicycle repair shop. We went there once. It is in Lawrenceville. His name is Jack Tierno."
Just a moment. HOW DO YOU FORGET SOMETHING LIKE THAT, and then remember it so quickly? Does Maggie get her bicycle repaired so often that she just can't keep track of repairmen? I mean, wouldn't it stick in your mind if you were introduced to a bicycle repairman who turned out to be your stepmother's ex husband? How did the conversation go? "Hello! I see your bike is broken. Would you like me to repair it here in my shop in Lawrenceville? My name is Jack Tierno, and I am your stepmother's ex husband." I suppose I might have repressed that incident as well, come to think of it... Or maybe Maggie's bike broke, and suspicious Lay recommended her ex husband to repair it. Or something. I'd far rather hear the drama of how suspicious Frito/Lay and her rambling, kid-wanting bicycle repairman husband married and split up than listen to Maggie answer more questions, anyway.
The police ask if anything out of the ordinary happened this morning, including any strange phone calls, and Maggie says "no," declining to tell them that she's had a stalking caller.
Mike grimly gets up to try to reach his father and Lay.Chapter six: Bleak Tuesday! Mike finally gets ahold of Lay and Dad, which is complicated by the fact that they'd taken a trip to a completely different island on a whim "to visit friends."
The police deem the case a "stranger abduction" without saying why they ruled out a "parental abduction;" the parents are acting suspicious as hell to me. Two new officers are stationed at the house at all times: the heavyset Lamberton "with a constant craving for coffee," and a woman named Becker "whom I liked very much." We're not treated to why Maggie likes her; presumably because she's not heavyset and therefore a pariah like Lamberton. I also like to imagine Lamberton wandering the neighborhood breaking into houses to satisfy his constant coffee craving, but that's too much personality to ask of one of these characters.
Maggie is given the phone number of an organization called Search for the Children, which are apparently consultants in how to search for lost children The whole town of Princeton bands together to search the local woods for Courtenay, which surprises Maggie. 
The police use dogs to look in wells and septic tanks. Maggie is so surprised that her head is "spinning" when Courtenay's picture even shows up on the eleven o'clock news, and she claims to have never heard of the Associated Press.
Maggie goes to bed and has another undescribed nightmare; she comes downstairs to find the police officers have spent the night and are drinking "a huge pot of coffee." I certainly hope the Princeton police are paying Maggie's family back for all the coffee.
The officers say that somebody spotted an old green Ford outside Courtenay's school yesterday, and that Jack Tierno has conveniently left town in the past weekend. Also, they would like Maggie and the family to do a personal interview on the news. They also explain that, according to the interview with Birdie, Courtenay got off the bus to school, but was not seen to enter the building.
Maggie ruminates for a moment that Birdie had always regretted not having children of her own.
The phone rings, and Maggie finds out that the principal of the high school is giving two days off to anyone who wants to join in the search, which surprises Maggie. And then she realizes that her brother fell asleep on the couch.
This chapter is rather boring, which isn't inexcusable; in the search for a missing person there is a lot of sitting around feeling useless, and it's good to try to illustrate that for the reader. But I think the general level of angsting and puttering in a book intended to be a sensational child abduction story is rather high, here, nonetheless.


Chapter seven: Secrets! Dad and Lay come home earlier than expected, because they "rented a private plane on Saint Bart's." Her father promises to tell her the whole story another time. That actually sounds like an interesting story, as is the story of how an illustrator and someone who works in children's publishing raised the funds to rent a private plane. But the question is never revisited. Maggie asks Lay how she is.
Lay, a total and complete bitch, asks Maggie how she could let this happen.
Maggie protests that it was in no way her fault.
Lay almost agrees, but still blames her because it happened on her watch.
Maggie fires back that at least thanks to Maggie, Courtenay has some preparation for what to do in case of an abduction.
Lay can't think of a mean response to that, so she's mercifully silenced before I can throw the book in the toilet.
Becker takes Lay into one room to grill her on her ex husband, and Lamberton takes Dad into another room with Maggie and Mike, to ask him about his ex wife.
Dad begins to sweat profusely, even though the house is chilly. He asks the children to leave the room when he's asked how he was granted full custody-- which is a bit less unusual now, but was probably very uncommon in the 80s. They absolutely refuse, and Lamberton threatens to drag him down to the station if he doesn't spill the beans about his ex.
Maggie says internally that "wild horses couldn't have dragged me away. I was consumed with curiosity." I feel like I'm being consumed by a rabid cliche monster. Originality is also not Ann M. Martin's strong suit. 
Dad's next few lines are so corny that they have to be heard in their entirety to be appreciated. 


Dad:Maybe you're right, Maggie, but what you and Mike are about to hear is not going to be easy for you. There are things I've tried to keep from you. Someday, when the time was right,  I might have told you the truth. Unfortunately this is a terrible time and a terrible way for the truth to come out... If any of this is too difficult for you to handle, I-- well, I'll have to answer the questions anyway. I still prefer that you not be here, but...
Lamberton: All right, I'll go back over what you know already. Your wife left you eight years ago?
Dad: That's right.
Lamberton: And she left voluntarily?
Dad: No.
Maggie: No? What do you mean, Dad?
Lamberton: *nods*
Dad: The court asked her to leave. She'd been charged with child abuse... neglecting and mentally abusing Maggie and Mike. When the divorce was final, I was given full custody. Jessica wasn't even allowed visitation rights. 
Maggie and Mike, of course, refuse to believe this. Father sadly answers that he did it to protect them. He hoped that Maggie "Wouldn't have to remember or understand the years with Jessica. I was trying to keep you from being hurt-- again."
It turns out that Jessica/Mom used to leave the children home alone when they were little, and lock Maggie in the closet "for hours" and physically abuse her dolls. A psychologist said that was proof of what she meant to do to Maggie.
Maggie wants to scream "Liar!" but can't. I should remind the reader at this point that she mentioned in the first chapter having no memory of her time with Jessica-- no memories before the age of eight-- and not feeling that this was strange. 
Mike sternly wants to know what this has to do with Courtenay, as if that isn't obvious.
Dad reveals that Jessica has spent the past ten months trying to get "shared custody" of her children. I wonder how in the name of raw sewage you're supposed to share "custody" of an eighteen-year-old and a sixteen-year-old. Jessica can visit Mike any time because he's not a minor anymore. She can visit both of them whenever she pleases in two years, anyway, unless they get a restraining order. "Custody" isn't even an issue. Oh, and in case you wanted to know what spurred Jessica's sudden change of heart? *Spoiler alert* We're never told. Apparently it was just a whim.
Maggie is angry that her father didn't tell her about the joint custody angle, and Dad loses his temper. He says it wasn't easy keeping such a secret by himself all these years. He says Jessica is "unstable." And that is the only explanation we're ever going to get for any of Jessica's behavior: she's "unstable." Not even a real mental health diagnosis, just "unstable."
Lamberton announces, without doing anything to verify that Dad is right, that Jessica is now the prime suspect but they're not going to tell the media.
Maggie storms away, vowing to clear her mother's name.


Chapter Eight! On The Air. 
Dad contacts Search for the Children, which is going to distribute Courtenay's photo all over the country. I get a lump in my throat because I have a baby girl of my own, and this would be tragic and terrifying to all parents. Then the TV crew comes.
Maggie doesn't even want to be in the room with her father, not for the legitimate reason that her father covered up her horrible abuse rather than help her heal, but because she still believes her mother is innocent. Mike reminds her that they have to set aside their differences for Courtenay's sake.
A makeup woman fixes Courtenay's face, "clucking over my freckles and red hair." Then they sit on the sofa for their interview. At this point Lay is on the verge of hysterics. I'd say she was doing a very good impression of all the "grief porn" in Twin Peaks, but Twin Peaks actually came out in 1990 and this book is 1986, so perhaps David Lynch was an early Ann M. Martin fan?
Robert Ford, the snazzy newscaster, makes the mistake of asking Lay how she feels and Lay goes ballistic, justly. Then Maggie takes Robert Ford upstairs to show him Courtenay's room. Ford looks grim as Maggie shows off Courtenay's toys and impressive book collection. Maggie pleads at the camera for whoever took Courtenay to comfort her if she has another red mitten nightmare. Then the camera turns off, and Ford says "That was beautiful, kid, beautiful." I don't know who in this cast of characters I want to slap more, but Ford is definitely high on the list. Likable characters are apparently not Ann M. Martin's strong suit either. 
Maggie goes to watch the camera crew leave out a window, and notices all her neighbors standing around outside. Then she notices a "shadowy figure" in the trees across the street. Maggie realizes it's the very very Italian Brad DeChristopher who called her "baby" several chapters ago.
"I shivered as fear ran its icy fingers down my back."
And I started an internet fund to buy Ann M. Martin a series of writing lessons, because I'm beginning to realize she has no strong suit. 


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