"I know. I know and I'm sorry. But...but your father is coming back, okay? He'll come back, just you see." I nodded and pulled away, wiping my wet face on my sweater sleeves.

Mother didn't sleep that night. Neither did I. I knew she was just trying to reassure me, but I'm 13! I know when my mother is lying to me. So I stayed up that night. I didn't even play on my Nintendo, i just stared up at the ceiling fan in my room and watched as the blades spun round and round until light started to stream in through my blinds, basking the walls in gold.

My paintings didn't seem as friendly as before. Everything was...still. I guess. By the time I left my room that morning mother had gone off to work. She leaves a sticky note on the inside of my door before she leaves and urges me to eat. I wasn't hungry for breakfast though. I had something to clear up.

My bike isn't really a bike at all. Made from PVC pipes and old scrap metal, it's the joke of the neighborhood. But it works.

I pedaled down the road towards the station, bike squeaking and groaning with every bump. I left it collapsed next to the flowerbed and walked in. Our town's station looks like a dentist waiting room. It's quiet a lot and the receptionist is always taking calls. But the receptionist was dressed in a uniform.

I waved to her and strode down the hall and took a left to sherriff Gangly's office. He has this really cheesy nameplate, y'know those imitation rhinestone jewels people use for clothing? Yeah, he has those. No, nothing wrong with it, but when your nameplate is monochrome and polka dot, people start to ask questions.

I sat in the love chair and he looked up. He's my friend Kaitlyn's dad and he brings food every time I invite her over, so he's cool.

"What can I do for you Sam'?"

"Well, something happened last night." He motioned for me to continue.

"I had a friend over yesterday and walked her to the door. I can see the kitchen clearly from the stairs and I didn't see anything as we walked down. When I got back to the kitchen to get a snack, I saw something weird." I pulled out the pendant a d set it in his outstretched palm. He inspected it for a second then asked:

"Do you think maybe you could have missed it? Maybe one of your parents forgot it on the counter before they left for work..?"

"No." I shook my head. "I had been in the kitchen many times yesterday and nothing was there. It was right next to the cereal boxes too! No. Somebody had to have put it there and escaped without me noticing."

"Here. How about this: I send one of my men... maybe Berguglio? He'll inspect the house. All entrances. Fingerprinting. The only thing you have to do in return is being in a batch of those cookies tomorrow." He winked.

I smiled and nodded, relieved. We said our goodbyes and he told me an officer would arrive at the house in about an hour. "Paperwork," he'd said.

On the way home I stopped by the park. Tucked away down a large street off the main road, Fernby Park was wooded and littered with small play areas. There was a section where the woods got thick and undergrowth overtook open ground. That was where I was headed.

I dumped my bike near a trash can and headed off into the woods. I reached a gnarled, old oak tree and knocked three times. The tree knocked back. With that, a panel in the tree started to move outward, revealing a dark tunnel. Time to say hello.

The room was fairly large for something made u underground by a few kids. You could jump and still wouldn't hit the cieling. Comfy chairs faced each other in a corner, and a large rug was layed out in the middle of the room. There were desks, a tiny kitchen, and even a working telephone. Having been here several times before, I was able to locate what I needed pretty quickly. Nobody was here today, so I guess no saying hello.

When I had the dust, I climbed the stairs up to ground-level and knocked twice. The oak echoed the noise and the panel returned.
I hope father is okay.

I got home just before officer Jepps arrived. Berguglio couldn't make it, he had to inspect some dumb lady strapping herself to a backhoe and screaming at workers. Jepps rolled his eyes as he finished the story and took out his tools. He told me just to stay inside and that he'll call me if he finds anything.

It was a quarter past three when he did. He brought me 'round the back of the house and got down on his knees, signaling me to do the same. He showed me the busted vent.

"The guy was smart though. Didn't leave no clothing behind or nuthin'. O'course, I checked for prints and there were none. Kind of a bummer, really." He shrugged. The rest of the time he was at the house, he was crawling around in the foundation, looking for any sign of a human being. When he crawled out with no luck, I knew something was off. I didn't say anything though.

I handed him a nicely wrapped bag of cookies and he left. Good thing, too, or I might have ripped his head right off his shoulders. The audacity! A ripped vent with no fingerprints or sign of a man crawling in the foundation? What a joke! I looked through everything again. Nothing was disturbed. I even went through the foundation myself. Nothing but the dragging trail of a 40+ year old man. I was starting to think maybe going to a ragtag group of country sherriffs wasn't the best idea.

When mother came back that night, bags under her eyes, she still had no news. She didn't even know if they had kept up communications with him. Members that had been killed were announced at the end of each month. It was the 20th of August.

We didn't say much, she just hugged me goodnight and went to her room. I know how it must have felt for her, not knowing where he was, what he was doing, if he was alive at all. Hell, she was probably more worried than I was. I had work to do though, I couldn't waste my time thinking about it.


© Salem Ferrel, All Rights Reserved