Live Free

Missing Children

"In three words I can sum up everything I've learned in life: it goes on."

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A bell rang overhead as I entered the shop, scaring the living daylight out of me. An old man in overalls behind the register looked at me suspiciously, eyeing me while I wondered over to the carts. Nobody else was in here from what I could tell. Taking a cart from the front, I accidentally knocked over a stacked pile of canned food. I quickly scooped it up, hoping the man wouldn't come over and talk to me. 

I fully stood up after repositioning the cans, only to find the man standing two inches away from my face. He glared at me behind his dark eyes, and fear crept along my spine. Did he recognize me? 

With a grunt, he staggered away back to the register. Pushing the cart into the first isle, I began my mission. To be honest, I just kind of got random items that I knew we'd need since I didn't have a list. Some canned goods that didn't taste too bad when they weren't heated up, bread, and stuff like that. About thirty minutes later, I successfully had about half of the store in my cart. I had everything we could possibly need and more. 

I shoved the heavy cart to the front and started unloading them onto the counter. A couple minutes later, as the man was adding up the cost, I noticed a sign taped to the wall behind him that seemed to make everything stop. 

It was one of those "missing children" signs, with bright red letters, and in the two pictures were Sky and I. They were last years school picture of us, and I could literally feel my heart drop in my stomach. Somewhere out there, my parents were looking for me, worried. If Sky's picture was on there too, then that must mean her parents wanted her back too. 

How would she act when I told her that? She thought they didn’t give a rats tail about her.

The man gave me a questioning look, so I tore my gaze away from the sign and pulled out my money. The total was $271. Not too bad. These supplies should last us awhile (even though we said the same thing about our previous supplies). After paying, he asked me if I wanted plastic bags to put everything in. I graciously accepted. As he was packing them up, he looked up at me again. 

"Where'd you come from, boy?" he asked, an alarming tone in his voice. 

"Why do you ask?"

"You look like you just got bucked off a horse, son," he replied, pausing his movements to check out my attire and appearance. 

"I was just doing a little hunting in the woods.” No problem with that, right?

He nodded his understanding and continued on with his task. 

"Shoot anything yet?" 

"Not really. Almost, though," I gave him a fake disappointed look. 

"How long you been out there?" 

Crap. What should I tell him?

"Almost two days. I know, it looks like more than that," I calmly told him. 

"Do your parents know you've been gone that long?"

That question stung. I almost wanted to tell him no, but I knew that wasn't a wise choice.  

"Of course, it was my dad's idea. But he canceled last minute and told me to just go on without him." Was that a reasonable answer? Of course not. What dad would let their son go hunting alone in the woods for two days? He made another grunting noise and handed me all the bags. I swear the weight of the bags were heavier than I was. As I thanked him and walked out the door, he called out to me. 

"You can't fool me, son. I know that boy in the picture is you," he nodded his head toward the missing children sign. I stopped breathing. Almost as if he sensed my fear, he said, “Don’t worry. I understand. Sometimes a man just needs some time to himself. You be safe out there. Is that little girl there with you?"

I was almost too shocked to speak, but I managed a small yes and turned to walk out. 

"You be safe, you hear?"

"Yes, sir. And thank you."

I practically ran out of the store. 

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