Good morning all. Last night I dreamt I was taken for superhero try outs despite telling the recruiters I had no super powers. we were taken to an abandoned city and made to leap from building top to building top. I was docked points for using a rope and grappling hook instead of my super human leaping powers. Apparently batman claimed the patent on the grappling hook. For some reason I thought my best defense was to argue that he couldn’t because he was fictional and therefore Bruce Wayne would have had to claim the patent. Not sure why I thought that was a defense. Anyway I am awake now and all is better. So let’s dive into a new day with a brand new writing prompt. Ready? Great. Let’s go.
Okay I like this one. I think the story needs to start with the kids being dropped off over the weekend and then the rising panic instead of where i did start it so there can be more showing than telling, but it is the start of an interesting tale. So many different ways it could be spun.
Thursday, June 23rd: They were having fun.
They were having fun. It was easy to see and lifted my heart. They ran about with joy and abandon as though the past six months had not happened. I watched from the back porch, keeping them in sight while remaining apart. They needed the time to play, to just be children and to run free.
My presence would merely be a reminder of all they had lost, of all the recent changes. Yet I couldn’t be completely absent. The world was full of monsters, we all knew that. My presence here helped keep them at bay for the moment. Even unacknowledged I could feel the occasional glances sent my way from the children. It was barely a flicker, a flash of sun on eyes the only betrayal. While I knew they didn’t want me to intrude, I knew my presence as a ‘responsible adult’ leant their play a carefree element. I wasn’t their adult of choice, but I would keep them safe.
For them there was comfort in that, or at least I hoped. My presence was only temporary. I was a stopgap between what was and what would be. ‘Neither fish nor fowl,’ I thought.
I smiled to myself. Soon the more permanent ‘responsible adult’ would arrive and my duties as interterm caregiver would end. I was both relieved and saddened. I never planned to take care of them for more than a weekend. A family emergency called their parents out of town and I was the one they turned to when they realized taking the kids would not be a good idea.
‘Two nights, three if we are stuck in traffic,” was what I had been told. I had a hotel number and cell phone numbers along with a list of other responsible adults like doctors in case of an emergency. All seemed well and the kids felt it was an adventure. I spent time with them, but never for longer than a day. This would be a big adventure for us all.
Except that two nights passed and after our weekend of fun we all prepared for it to end. The third night passed and I waited for a call letting me know of traffic delays. It never came. The next morning I tried the numbers I knew. The hotel said they checked out and neither of them was answering their cell phones. At a loss as to what else to do, I kept calling, once an hour until someone finally picked up.
I told the kids their weekend was extended and we played games throughout the day. They were thoroughly exhausted by dinner time and growing somewhat cranky, wondering when their parents would be arriving. Despite trying to keep my rising worry from them, I suspected they felt my concern.
I was clearing the table and dialing the cell phone numbers yet again when the phone was finally picked up.
“Rob, what the hell,” I said as the phone was answered. “Where are you and Carol?”
It wasn’t Rob on the other end of the line. It wasn’t carol either. It was the state police. Their vehicle had been found, but of the couple there was no trace.
Ten til Midnight 