by Amanda Tru
“There’s such evil out there,” her father said. “Sometimes, it breaks my heart to work with teens, knowing that everything will just steadily get worse.”
She let their voices fade away and just relaxed, watching the snow falling through the front window. It had started about an hour ago. She’d offered to drive Jeff home, but he insisted on staying.
“They won’t clear the roads before tomorrow,” she’d said. “And that’s assuming they make it out here with the plows. With school out, they may not bother with the back roads.”
“I’m not worried. You shouldn’t be, either.”
So, she tried not to worry. What she really worried about was his state of mind, not his physical safety. What would he think if he had to go out there in the snow and drive home? Would he cling to the memories that hurt him so badly?
She thought of the gift he’d gotten her—the pencil drawing of her vet practice. He’d presented it rolled up and promised he had a frame for it at home, but he’d worried about transporting it on the four-wheeler. She wondered if he was always so thoughtful with gifts. She’d let his mother help her with his gift and had gotten him box seat tickets to a black-tie charity ballet production in Louisville. She’d even committed to buying a new dress to wear. Jeff had not expected that gift. The surprise on his face made wrapping them inside a weighted box the perfect idea. “How did you know I’d wanted to go to this, but changed my mind because of the move here?” he’d asked.
She winked. “I have sources.”
Were they moving too quickly? Plans for a February event when they’d just started truly seeing each other in September?
Shaking her head, she picked up her empty coffee mug and shifted out from under his arm. They moved at exactly the pace that suited both of them. If he needed or wanted to slow down, she trusted he’d say something.
The door opened, and a well bundled Noah came in, stomping his snow-covered boots. At his feet a snow-covered Leif froze in place, then vigorously shook to dry himself, sending cold wet all around. “It’s up to my ankles,” Noah declared.
She stood and went to help him disrobe, setting her coffee cup on the table by the door. Through the doorway, she saw the drifts of snow. It came down so fast that the sheets of snow totally obscured the trees. “They’re saying two feet by morning.” She tickled his chest, and his laughter filled the room. “That’s up to here.”
“Mom!” He made the word two syllables, and she laughed as he kicked his boots off and ran upstairs. “I’m going to play with my cat!” He declared from the top step.
“Sounds like a plan.”
“Leif,” Noah scolded. “You be nice to the kitten. She has to get to know you.”
She went into the kitchen and lifted the lid of the roaster pan. Aromatic steam filled the air. When it cleared, she touched the top of the beef roast, feeling the meat, judging the level of doneness. The potatoes and carrots roasting next to the beef looked tender. She turned down the temperature and added two cups of water so that she could make gravy.
When the oven announced it had reached temperature, she slid the pan of rolls into it and turned the stove on under the pot of green beans. She’d picked those and canned them herself just a few months before.
While the rolls cooked, she made a cream cheese frosting, then spread that on the red velvet cupcakes she’d made yesterday, topping them with chopped pecans. Just as she rinsed the dishwater from the now clean frosting bowl, the timer announced the rolls were ready.
She’d already set the table. She transferred meat and veggies to a platter, made a gravy out of the roast drippings, set rolls and green beans on the table, then walked into the living room. “Dinner’s ready.” At the foot of the stairs, she yelled up, “Noah!” When she heard his bedroom door open, she said, “Dinner.”
Hearing the bathroom sink running, knowing he would wash his hands, she smiled and turned to find Jeff standing next to her. “He’s a good boy,” Jeff said. “I know a lot of it is because of the routines you’ve set up, but you do an amazing job with him.”
Unexpected tears sprang to her eyes. “Thanks,” she said with a smile. “It’s sometimes very hard and all the time very wonderful.”
“You make it look natural and easy.”
At the dinner table, her dad sat at the head, Noah sat to his right, and she sat to his left with Jeff sitting next to her. She brushed crumbs off of the dark green tablecloth then took Jeff’s hand and her father’s.
“Father God, we thank you for this meal, for this time to celebrate Your gift to the world.” Her dad’s voice resonated around them, filling the room while he loved on God. When he said, “Amen,” she stood and leaned over the table to help Noah dish his food.
“Did Blondie like the bone I bought her?” Noah asked, carefully dishing potatoes onto his plate so that they did not touch anything else.
“She took it straight into the barn,” Jeff said with a smile. “I was surprised she even came out when I was leaving.”
His eyebrows snapped together. “You left her outside in the snow?”
“Noah—”
Jeff put a hand on her knee, signaling to her to let him handle it. “I left her with good hay and a warm blanket. The snow will insulate the barn. Blondie will be fine until I get home this evening.”
“You can’t leave her in the snowstorm!”
Gloria said, “You realize Labs are cold-weather dogs, right? Vikings bred them, Son. It is nowhere near cold enough out there to hurt Blondie.”
Her tone gave him enough of an indication to know he needed to quit talking about it and to quit arguing with the adults. However, the look on his face made it clear that he had more to say in his mind but that he just knew better than to let it out.
She smiled and shook her head, passing the gravy to Jeff. Her dad looked at Noah. “How’s the kitten settling in?”
“Fine. Warm and cozy.” Nothing in his tone gave a warm or cozy impression.
Jeff’s shoulders shook as if he contained a laugh.
Noah didn’t say much through the rest of the meal. They ate, the adults chatted, then he helped clear the table and excused himself without a cupcake. Gloria frowned as he left the dining room but did not force him to come back in and sit. He would be fine.
She poured coffee, and they enjoyed the cupcakes. She glanced at Jeff. “If I’d known about the mincemeat, I would have made a pie.”
“You knew I liked mincemeat,” her dad said with a wink.
She tilted her head at him. “You don’t need pie.”
He laughed, but Leif’s barking interrupted him.
“Leif, hush!” Gloria said. He came to the doorway of the dining room and whined. She raised an eyebrow. “You’ve barely been inside two hours. Go lie down by the fire.” When he stood there, staring at her, she pointed and very firmly said, “Go lie down.”
He left the doorway but barked again. She started to get up, but he stopped and she settled back down. About fifteen minutes later, he came back to the doorway and barked at them. “Fine,” she said, pushing away from the table. “I guess you really need to go out, huh?”
She opened the front door, and he dashed outside. The wind tried to slam the door shut and swirled snow inside. She shut it securely, then something caught her peripheral vision, and she glanced upstairs, spying the tail of the darting kitten. Why was she out of Noah’s room?
“Noah?”
When he didn’t answer, she felt a nervous tightening in her stomach. Immediately, she glanced at the boot holder by the door. Noah’s boots were gone. His coat and scarf were gone from the coat tree, too. She saw his hat on the floor.
“Dad! Jeff!” Stomach rolling, she pulled her boots on while simultaneously wrapping a scarf around her neck. Both men appeared in the doorway at the same time. “Noah’s gone.”
Her dad understood. Jeff did not. “Did he just now go outside?”
Tight-lipped, she shook her head. “No. There’s no way he’d go play in th
e snow in the twilight. He’s gone.”
Just as she put her hand on the doorknob, Jeff’s hand covered hers. “I need to know what you mean.”
“When they get an idea stuck in their heads, Autistic kids wander. They just go off anywhere they please without fear, without any understanding or consideration of repercussions. He’s gone out into this weather. Probably to put your dog inside.”
Her dad held out her phone. “If you don’t immediately find him, call Traci Seaver. I saw her at church last night. She told me she’d be on call all day.”
Her friend from high school, Traci, was a deputy sheriff. She knew Noah and had helped find him one other time. “Yeah.” She looked at Jeff as he slipped his coat on. “You going without boots?”
“I don’t have them with me.”
She looked him up and down. She didn’t have time to worry about the adult in front of her. “I’m not slowing down.”
“Let’s get moving.”
The wind drove the snow into her face. Gloria immediately wrapped her scarf around as much of her face as possible. The swirling snow obscured the late afternoon sun, making everything look gray.
It was hard to walk forward. “Noah!” She yelled, even though she knew he wouldn’t hear her over the sound of the wind. The snow fell so fast and swirled around in the wind in such a way that she couldn’t see anything in front of her. Just a few feet into the yard and the house became a hulking and indistinct shadow behind her.
She ran into the four-wheeler. At least he hadn’t tried to take that. When she felt Jeff’s hand on her shoulder, she jumped in surprise. “He’s on foot,” she yelled over the wind. “At least he didn’t crash this into a tree.”
“Looks like he tried, though. Keys were in the house.”
She saw the key in the ignition. Her heart lurched. He was going through the woods. She gestured in that direction. “He’s going to Blondie.”
They set off together, each yelling his name. The wind swallowed their words faster than their breath froze in the air. When she could see the shadow of trees, she looked behind her and couldn’t see the house anymore. How would they ever find him?
“Do you think he managed to find the path?”
Not willing to think about how cold her hands were or how quickly she lost her bearings, she said, “I don’t know if I can find the path.”
“It’s over here.”
Once they entered the path in the woods, they had a bit of a break from the wind. Snow still fell in giant drifts, but the trees provided a barrier, and they could see slightly better. The problem was, their footprints got obscured very quickly, and they were losing the sun in the already darkened sky.
“Noah!” She yelled, pulling the scarf off her face. “Can you hear me?”
If she provided him with a question, perhaps he’d answer. Jeff walked about six paces ahead of her, looking through the trees to his left. Gloria focused on the right, but also looked behind her. She struggled in the wind, in the deep snow. She couldn’t imagine how cold Jeff’s feet were right now.
It took them three times as long to get to the clearing outside of Jeff’s house than it should have. As soon as they left the relative sanctuary of the trees, the wind slapped at them again, driving ice and snow into their eyes. Gloria struggled against the force of the wind.
“I can barely walk,” she gasped. “How did he?”
“It’s worse in just the last half hour since we went into the trees. It wasn’t this bad before.”
They hooked arms and pushed forward. She held her scarf up, trying to protect her eyes from the driving snow. “Noah! Can you hear me?”
Every step, every second, every unanswered call, the cold ball of fear in her stomach grew larger. It threatened to overwhelm her, to remove her ability to think, to take away all reason. She fought it back. No way could she let it overwhelm her.
“Noah! Where are you?”
Gloria thought she heard something. It sounded so faint. Then she realized that what she heard was Jeff yelling for Noah from just a few feet away. She snatched his hand and started trudging through the snow as fast as she could.
Once in his yard, she and Jeff separated. He went toward the barn, and she struggled to get to his porch. His house became clearer, the shapes more distinct, until directly in front of it, she could make out the doors and windows and the dim porch light.
The snow had drifted up, and she couldn’t find the steps. Walking forward slowly, she kept expecting to step up and finally her shin hit wood. Carefully, more cautiously than she wanted, she made it to the top. Drifts of snow covered the chairs and tables. “Noah!” Her heart beat furiously. “Noah! Where are you?”
She heard nothing but wind and ice. Despite knowing she wouldn’t find him, she checked the entire porch, making sure he wasn’t just hiding under a table or chair or covered by a pile of snow.
A sob ripped out of her. No! Not yet! Right now, level head. Calm, cool, and collected. Cry later when you have him safe.
She pulled the phone out of her pocket. Her hands shook, and she noticed how red her skin had turned. Somehow, she managed to search her contacts and find Traci. She dialed, and Traci answered on the first ring.
“Gloria. Hi. Merry Christmas.”
Without preamble, she said, “Noah’s missing.”
“Where are you?”
“Dad’s at the house. I’m at Jeff Brock’s house. Fitz’s old place. We think he’s somewhere between here and there.”
“I’ll see if I can head that way, but I don’t know how fast I can get there. The roads are impassable.”
“I know. Call back if you need to.” She disconnected the call. Covering her mouth with a shaking hand, she watched Jeff climb the steps.
“Blondie is alone in there.” At the top, he used his hands to dig the snow out from in front of the door. As soon as he could open it enough to let them through, he said, “I need to put on boots. And you need gloves and another layer.”
“I need to get back out to the woods.”
He looked at her, his face nearly angry the look was so intense. In a voice that left no room for further debate, he said, “Gloria! Come in and get gloves and add another layer. I’m just putting boots on. I promise I’ll be back out there looking as soon as I’m changed.”
“How long can he last?”
He stared at her for several seconds before saying, “He has on gear. Coat, scarf, boots. Temperature was a little warmer when he left. He can make it a couple of hours. It’s only been about an hour.”
Another sob tried to escape, but she contained it, and it came out as a whimper. He put his hands on her face, and she met his eyes. “Listen. We know where he was going. It’s only half a mile. We’ll find him. We aren’t going to stop looking until we find him. Understand?”
Jeff took Gloria into his bedroom and showed her where to find his thermal underwear. He grabbed his snow boots out of the closet and left the room. “I’ll be back in the woods. I’m taking the south side. The trees on the right going toward your house,” he said. “I have my cell phone.”
At the door, he put on his boots and grabbed a pair of gloves out of his dress coat. Before slipping them on, he called Arnold.
“Jeff? Did you find him?”
“No. Did Leif come back?”
“No. I’ll head your way.”
He slipped his phone into his coat pocket and zipped it closed so that he wouldn’t risk losing it, then put gloves on and went back out into the cold. Part of him wished he’d stopped and added a layer to his clothing, but he couldn’t take another second without continuing to look. If going back out without taking time to layer first meant Gloria would take the time to add the extra warmth, he was good with that sacrifice.
The feel of the cold hitting his face, the smell of the frozen precipitation in the air, the sound of the wind whistling—it all overwhelmed him, tried to bring back memories. Forcing himself to compartmentalize, he shut the door on thoughts of his daugh
ter Katrina and instead focused on Noah. He had left intending to come put Blondie in out of the cold. He approached the barn, and when he could see it in detail, he gave a sharp whistle. Blondie came barreling out.
“Hey girl,” he said, running a gloved hand over her face. “Where’s Noah? Help us find Noah.”
He gestured with his arm and started walking toward the tree line. Blondie ran ahead and circled back toward him. Maybe she’d know what he needed her to do. Maybe not. But if Noah saw her or heard her, he might come out.
Coming here, they’d come quickly, assuming they’d find him with Blondie safe and secure inside Jeff’s house. This time, Jeff moved slowly. He entered the trees and watched as Blondie struggled in the deeper drifts that completely consumed her. So much snow had fallen in the just last hour, and it still came down strong and steady. He’d never seen snow like this in Kentucky.
“Noah!” he called, “are you here?”
What could he do? His mouth felt dry, and panic skirted on the edges of his mind. The wind picked up and blew through the path, reducing visibility even more. After about fifteen minutes of very careful and slow-moving, he stopped with his hand on a tree and closed his eyes. “God,” he said out loud, “God, we need Your help!”
Behind him, he could barely hear Gloria’s voice calling for her son. It sounded farther away than it should have. A bark to his left made him look up and caused Blondie to dart past him and into that part of the tree line. Soon, both Leif and Blondie came rushing past him, headed deeper into the trees. Wondering if he should follow, he walked forward, zigzagging between the trees and the path for about fifty more yards, then stopped and listened.
“Noah!” He turned as he said the name, cupping his mouth with his hands. “Are you out here? Noah! Call out if you can hear me!”
The snow and wind stung his face. He wrapped it in his scarf and squinted his eyes against the onslaught. He took another step and looked back to where the dogs had run. Maybe he should…
Ahead, he saw a figure. It was too tall to be Noah, so he assumed it was Arnold. He rushed forward and raised his voice to battle the wind and the muffling scarf. “I’m going to follow the dogs. They acted like they knew where they were going. I’m zig-zagging between the path and about ten feet into the tree line.”