Every Sunrise

by Tricia Goyer

“Sure.” Charlotte glanced over her shoulder to make sure Christopher wasn’t anywhere close. That kid seemed to have bionic hearing. Then she leaned her ear closer to Ashley.

  “I bought her one of those roses. I just wanted to make sure she got one, you know. But I suppose I shouldn’t have been too worried.”

  “You did?” Charlotte hoped she sounded surprised. She also didn’t know whether to feel sad for Emily, or relieved. Sad that her roses were from her grandmother and best friend. Or relieved because of the same.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Bob, do you think we should drive into town?” Charlotte glanced at the clock, noting it was nearly 4:00 PM. She had tried to call Sam’s cell phone and Paul’s house three more times, but she still hadn’t gotten through.

  “Sam should be home soon. I’d hate to drive in and waste all that gas.”

  Charlotte wasn’t sure. She walked over to the kitchen sink and looked out at the falling snow. Crossing her arms over her chest, she leaned back against the kitchen counter. Scents of dinner wafted through the air, but instead of anticipation, tightness squeezed her chest. Here she was safe and warm, and who knew what Sam was doing—or where he was? The memory of his downcast attitude over the last few weeks filled her thoughts.

  “But what if his car is broken down somewhere? The temperature’s dropping fast. And you know Sam. I’m lucky if I can get him to wear a sweatshirt. I don’t think he’s worn his winter jacket even once since we got it for him.”

  The ringing of the phone split the air, making Charlotte jump.

  “Finally,” she mumbled as she cradled the phone between her shoulder and cheek. “Hello?” Charlotte attempted to keep her voice calm.

  “Mrs. Stevenson? It’s Anita Marshall, Paul’s mother. I saw your phone number on my caller ID from earlier today. Did you try to call?”

  “Oh good. I’m glad you’re home. Please call me Charlotte. Yes, I called a few times. I don’t mean to be such a pest, but I was wondering—did Sam already leave, or is he going to be heading home soon? We just want to watch out for him—that car of his is always giving him trouble.”

  “Sam?” Anita’s voice sounded hesitant. “Well, he did stay last night, but he left this morning. Sam said he wasn’t feeling well. Personally, I wouldn’t feel well either if I stayed up all night eating junk food and playing video games.”

  “He left your house this morning?” Charlotte felt the pit of her stomach sinking. The room around her began to fade and she leaned back against the kitchen counter for support.

  “Yes, hours ago. And after he left, Paul and Jake headed out back to snowboard. Do you think Sam might have stopped by another friend’s house?”

  “No, I’m afraid not … I mean, Paul and Jake are the only ones he really hangs out with. He promised to call before he left.”

  She felt her throat closing and pain shot through her chest. She remembered that feeling well. It had been the same the day she discovered that Denise had run away with Kevin Slater.

  Sam didn’t run away, she told herself. He … he has just chosen not to come home yet. Either that or—

  Charlotte hoped he wasn’t stuck out there somewhere. She glanced toward the window, noticing the snow falling hard.

  From somewhere beyond Anita’s voice, Charlotte heard a car driving down their driveway—the snow crunching under the tires. She turned her head quickly, hoping it was Sam pulling in. Instead, she saw that Bill, Anna, and the girls had arrived early.

  Toby barked by the back door, wanting to be let out. The sound of Christopher’s footsteps pounded down the stairs. Then Emily’s and Ashley’s faces darted by as they followed Christopher.

  Emily’s cheeks were flushed as she let in Bill’s family, and Charlotte attempted to make sense of it all.

  “Charlotte? Hello? Are you there? Did we lose connection—” It was Anita’s voice pulling her back to the conversation on the phone.

  Charlotte pressed the phone tighter to her ear. “Maybe you’re right, Anita. I’m sure Sam is at another friend’s house, and he just forgot to let me know.”

  Then a new memory filtered into Charlotte’s thoughts, and she remembered the last time she saw Sam. He was carrying a garbage bag of items out the door. Sam had told her he’d cleaned his room and was throwing out trash, getting everything in order. But what if he’d been packing up his things? Packing up for good?

  He didn’t want to leave the room a mess for me. He wasn’t planning on coming back.

  “Charlotte, are you still there?” Anita’s voice asked.

  “Charlotte.” Bob approached and stood in front of her. “Did you see that the kids are here? Should Anna set the salad on the table, or put it in the fridge?” He leaned down, his eyes meeting with hers. “Charlotte, who are you talking to?”

  Charlotte motioned to the table. “Put the salad there,” she mouthed. Even with Anita’s voice in her ear she had a hard time connecting the woman’s words with the normal family interactions happening around her.

  Bob shrugged. He said something to Anna that Charlotte couldn’t make out, and then he moved into the living room with Bill.

  “Charlotte?” Anita said again into the phone.

  “Yes, I’m sorry, I’m still here.” Charlotte managed to focus on the woman’s voice.

  “The weather’s not getting any better out there. We need to act fast. That’s a long time for Sam to be gone, and I’ll do what I can to help. I’ll call a few of Paul’s friends and see if anyone knows anything. Maybe you’d better call the sheriff’s office, let them know what’s going on. Find out how long someone has to be gone before you can file a missing person report—”

  Charlotte didn’t know what else to do but to listen and agree to the plan. “Okay, yes, you’re right.”

  It was Anna who first figured out something was wrong. She had just set a large, glass bowl filled with a fresh and lovely salad on the table when her eyes met Charlotte’s gaze.

  “Sam,” Anna mouthed. Charlotte nodded.

  “Okay, Charlotte?” It was Anita’s voice interrupting again.

  “Yes, okay, Anita, thank you. I appreciate your looking for him. I’m sure he’ll show up around town somewhere.”

  Charlotte said the words even though she didn’t believe them herself. “Thank you. Good-bye.” She hung up.

  Her eyes began to water. That old sports car wasn’t made for Nebraska winters. And deep down she knew the truth … Sam wasn’t at a friend’s house. Sam was gone, just as Denise had gone.

  She thought about Sam, stranded and alone. At least Denise had left with someone who had watched out for her—at least for a while. As frustrating as Kevin Slater could be, there was a time when he had given up everything to care for Denise.

  But Sam was alone. Completely alone. Where? Why?

  And why now?

  “Dad,” Anna’s voice called across the house to the living room. Charlotte vaguely realized it was the first time she’d heard her daughter-in-law shout so unladylike. “Dad, come quick. There’s a problem with Sam.”

  Anna knelt down before her. “Mom?”

  “Charlotte? What’s going on?” Bob’s hand touched her shoulder. Bill stood behind him.

  Charlotte took in a deep breath and blew it out slowly.

  “It seems that Sam left Paul’s house this morning. No one knows where he is. But I’m sure he just forgot he was supposed to call home. I’m sure it was just a misunderstanding.”

  “He’s missing?” Bob’s eyebrows furrowed as if he was having a hard time believing it.

  “Grandma?” It was Christopher who stood before her, stretching out his hand. In it was a roll of new toilet paper. “Here, Grandma. You can wipe your face with this.” His face wrinkled in concern.

  “Is Sam all right? Did someone take him? Will he be back?” Christopher’s questions stabbed her heart.

  Charlotte took the toilet paper from him, and then stroked his cheek. Still, her mind seemed muffled and she tried to make sense of why
Christopher was handing her toilet paper.

  “For your tears, Mom. Wipe your face.” Anna took the roll from her, unrolling it and breaking off a piece.

  Charlotte took it and dabbed her face. “For my tears. Yes, I’m sorry.” A forced laugh escaped her lips. “I’m sorry,” she said again. “I didn’t know I was crying.”

  She grabbed Bob’s hand, trying to keep her voice measured. “We need to call the sheriff. We need to call now, Bob. Sam’s out there somewhere—and we need to find him!”

  WE NEED TO FIND HIM … The words replayed in Charlotte’s mind as she and Bob followed the sheriff’s deputy into Sam’s room.

  Seeing him there, eyeing Sam’s things, looked like something she’d watched in a movie once. The authorities had been alerted to check every possible route Sam could have taken to get home from Paul’s house. But from the quick response of a deputy showing up at their farm, asking to see Sam’s room, Charlotte guessed that they didn’t believe Sam was lost or broken down, especially when she told them that most of Sam’s things were missing.

  Just like she didn’t believe it.

  This can’t be reality. It can’t be real. I wish I could wake up from this. I wish it was just a bad dream.

  When Charlotte had first opened the door she was surprised by the youthfulness of the deputy’s appearance. Just a few inches taller than Charlotte, he had a thin build, sandy blond hair, and kind eyes. Yet as he gazed around Sam’s room, his eyes narrowed and she could see him taking it all in.

  His ID badge said Johnson. Charlotte didn’t know him, and she was thankful for that. Thankful that the man who stood before her wasn’t one of the old-timers who knew about Denise. She didn’t know if she could handle that—all those memories—and maybe even accusations. After all, how often did this type of thing happen twice in the same family?

  She was glad the deputy had suggested the others stay downstairs. Bob had protested, but Charlotte had assured him that it was a good idea. Even now she could hear the members of her family discussing where Sam could have gone and why. It was hard enough for Charlotte having the deputy here, asking questions, without a dozen prying eyes watching, observing and adding their own opinions.

  “So, you say his duffle bag and most of his clothes are missing?” Deputy Johnson asked. He jotted a few notes in his small white notebook and then he turned, his eyes locking on hers with sympathy.

  “Yes, as well as a few of his favorite things, including his Bible.” The fact that Sam took his Bible had been one small encouragement to Charlotte.

  “Did he have any money?” The deputy continued to jot down notes with the intensity of a college student copying chemistry equations from a white board.

  “Not much, at least I don’t think he did. Well, he did get a little bit for his birthday. Maybe forty dollars. Maybe a little more.”

  “Is there any other money lying around that he could have gotten his hands on? Maybe from a wallet or a purse?”

  Charlotte frowned, and Deputy Johnson put down his pen. “I’m sorry to ask these questions, ma’am. I know this is hard. Just realize that my goal isn’t to place any accusations on your grandson—it will simply help us create a better picture of Sam’s resources.”

  “Sam might be difficult sometimes, but stealing money isn’t like him,” she stammered.

  Then again, neither is running away—

  “What about the grocery money?” the deputy asked.

  “Yes, well, I do keep grocery money in my purse. I suppose I can go check,” she said simply.

  She hurried downstairs, eager to get to her purse and disprove the assumption.

  The eyes of the other family members followed Charlotte as she moved through the living room to her bedroom. Their conversation quieted. Charlotte didn’t make eye contact, didn’t comment. Instead, she walked into her bedroom where she kept her purse and unzipped the front pocket. Her heart sank. It was empty. The cash for her weekly grocery shopping was gone. Feeling another weight added to those she already carried, Charlotte settled onto her bed, placing her forehead into her hands.

  Dear Lord, help us here. She needed a few minutes to think, to pray. To let the seriousness of this situation sink in.

  From the dining room she could hear the sound of dishes rattling as Bill and Anna set the table for the kids. They had all been unsure of what to do or how to act, so Anna had taken charge. Before the deputy had arrived, Anna had made it clear that she thought it would be best if they all tried to keep the kids’ routine as close to normal so as not to shake them up. Charlotte didn’t know if it was the right thing or not, but she didn’t want to argue.

  As Charlotte sat there, listening to them say grace and praying that God would protect Sam—wherever he might be—she tried to regain her composure. And as she heard them dishing up food and exclaiming over the meal, she couldn’t help but think about Sam. Alone somewhere, maybe even hungry and cold.

  Taking in a slow breath, Charlotte exited her room. She glanced at her family, sitting around the table, but didn’t say anything. She knew if she tried to speak tears would tumble out with the words. Instead, she offered a forced smile, and then she hurried back upstairs. Bob rose from the table and followed her.

  Deputy Johnson turned as they approached. He lifted his eyebrows as if already guessing what Charlotte had to tell him.

  “There was two hundred dollars of grocery money in my purse. It’s missing.”

  Bob’s hand gently squeezed Charlotte’s shoulder. “Oh, Sam,” he mumbled.

  Deputy Johnson simply nodded, and Charlotte was glad he didn’t do any more than that. Even though they were finding out more and more of his discrepancies by the minute, he was still her grandson and she loved him fiercely.

  “So, he didn’t say anything about wanting to run away? And there was no note?” the deputy asked.

  “No, I haven’t seen anything. He’s just gone.” Charlotte held her fingers to her trembling lips.

  “If it’s okay, I’d like to talk to Sam’s brother and sister. They might know more than they let on.”

  Charlotte nodded. “Bob?” She didn’t need to ask. Bob went to go get the children. A minute later Emily and Christopher were sitting on Sam’s bed with the deputy kneeling down in front of them. So much for trying not to rattle them.

  The deputy asked Christopher the same types of questions— if Sam had said anything, if he’d done anything out of the ordinary …

  Christopher shrugged. “No, I don’t think so. He was just the same ol’ Sam.”

  The deputy turned to Emily, whose tears spilled from her eyes before she could say one word. “I could tell something was wrong, but I didn’t know what. Sam has never done anything like this before. Ever.”

  Deputy Johnson finished looking over the room and did a walk-through of the rest of the house. As he prepared to leave, he approached Bob and Charlotte. “I can put out an APB for him.”

  Charlotte nodded, but the words didn’t bring her any comfort.

  “I do have one last question,” Deputy Johnson stated. “Do you know the whereabouts of his father? What was his name?”

  “Kevin Slater, and we haven’t heard from the man for years, not since he abandoned his family. If we did know his whereabouts, you’d be the first to know.” Bob’s voice was deep, full of the emotion that name stirred.

  “We tried to find him—after our daughter’s death.” Charlotte met the deputy’s gaze. “But we weren’t able to locate him. We haven’t heard from him in years. The kids haven’t either.”

  Deputy Johnson nodded. “I promise to call in Sam’s description to state authorities, and I’ll keep you updated if I hear anything. I suppose all you can do is just try to think back—even to look around—to see if anything strikes you as unusual. It’s often the little things that lead to our biggest breaks.”

  Bob and Charlotte nodded in unison, not knowing what else to say. They walked Deputy Johnson to the front door and then, with resignation, Charlotte turne
d her attention back to the family at hand.

  Much to Jennifer and Madison’s approval, Anna and Bill had put on Veggie Tales while the rest of them circled the table. Ashley had called her mom and had gone home, promising to contact some of their friends at school to see if anyone had seen Sam.

  Charlotte’s gaze moved from her hands to Bob’s face and then to Christopher and Emily.

  “It will be okay; we’ll find your brother,” she told them. Charlotte only wished she believed those words.

  She then turned her gaze to Bill and Anna. There was a mix of sympathy and disapproval in their gazes. It made Charlotte think back to old conversations they had about who would be the best ones to raise Sam, Emily, and Christopher. Charlotte only hoped that this situation wouldn’t resurrect those questions once again.

  “I’m sure Sam will be fine,” Bill said. “But after we find him it would be a good time to talk …” He cleared his throat. “I just want you to know that if you need some help—perhaps if Christopher and Emily need to stay with us for a while—we’d be very happy to do that for you.”

  “There will be no discussion of Emily and Christopher going anywhere—”

  Bob’s words were interrupted by Pete bolting through the door, rubbing his hands together. “Hey, sorry I’m late. Dana’s grandma’s pipe under her sink froze and burst and I had to run over there and help her get it fixed …” Pete paused as he glanced at the faces at the table.

  “Pete—” Charlotte tried to speak, but the words caught in her throat.

  “What’s going on?”

  “It’s Sam,” Bob commented. “It seems like he’s run away. He’s gone, and no one seems to know where he is.”

  “Run away?” Harsh laughter burst from Pete’s lips. “You’re joking, right? In his little car? As if he could make it out of Nebraska.” Pete paused. “Wait, are you serious? Like seriously serious?”

  “Yes, Pete. I’m afraid so.”

  Then, even before Bob had finished explaining everything to Pete, the phone rang. It was Anita Marshall on the phone again.

  “I’m sorry, Charlotte. We’ve called all Paul’s friends—and a few other kids from school too. None of them claim to know anything about Sam’s disappearance.”