For a moment, I leaned forward, straining my eyes. I already had my phone in hand to call the cops, when I noticed how small the figure was. Stevenson’s home.Īt first, the idea of a home invader snaked itself into my brain. I’d gotten up to stretch my legs and stopped in front of the window when I noticed a figure in front of Mrs. Soon enough, the sun set, but I knew I had another graveyard shift ahead of me.ĭuring a brief break, I noticed something. I’m a freelancer and work for an assortment of online magazines, and am always strapped for cash.Īlmost without me noticing, the day ticked by. I sighed and promptly poured it down the drain and prepared myself a new one.Īfter that, I settled down for another long day of work. Once I was back inside, I saw my now cold half-full cup of coffee. I couldn’t help but stare after them, and for a second, I thought I saw something dark lingering around him, something that now reached out for the old lady. Stevenson took the boy’s hand and slowly led him on. I was quite happy when she and the boy left my car and made their way back to her home. She babbled on an and, soon transitioned into what the boy’s name might be, even spoke to him, trying to see if he’d react to one of them. I liked the old lady, I really did, but I could tell she was terribly lonely. God knows, she said, there are so many people out there, people who had no qualms about hurting a child.Īt first I listened, and even joined in, but after a while I just zoned out.
She, too, suggested a kidnapping, or an accident, or he might have been abandoned out in the woods. Stevenson talked on end about what might have happened to the boy. Eventually, the doctor yielded and so the three of us went back to my car. Stevenson, but the woman had a heart of gold. “Oh, for Chris’s sake, let me take the boy! I’ve raised four children all by myself and I can handle another for a day or two!” “Nonsense, Douglas, that boy’s been up for God knows how long! Do you really want to take him all the way to the hospital, or god forbid that ghastly home in Williamsburg?” Then he suggested he’d take the boy to a hospital or children’s home in a nearby city. A boy just walking into town all by himself. Maybe in time, he’d open up and talk.įor now, he took a picture of the boy and said he’d hit up Sheriff Foster to find out if there was any news of missing boys in the local area. In the end, he said what the boy need the most, was to rest.
It didn’t matter how much the doctor tried talking to him, he got no reaction. What he was worried about, however, was his mental state. Otherwise, he seemed to be fine no bruises, no wounds, no signs of physical harm at all. The boy was in terrible shape, but it was attributed to exhaustion and dehydration. Yet there wasn’t much he could learn about him. Mansfield was more than surprised to see us, but got serious the moment he saw the boy. Something was wrong with him and, for a moment, it felt almost as if something dark was lingering around him. It gave me the creeps, and I had to force myself not to shudder. His face was entirely devoid of emotions. He just sat there, quietly, not looking at anything. Mansfield’s clinic, I couldn’t help but stare at the boy in the rearview mirror. Eventually, I sighed and nodded.ĭuring our drive to Dr.
Stevenson’s pleading expression, found her eyes almost digging into me. I opened my mouth to make up an excuse, but I saw Mrs. “Hello, Julia, do you mind taking is to Dr. Then she turned to the boy again, whispered something into his ear before she embraced him and led him to her home.Ībout half an hour later, my doorbell rang, and I was greeted by no other than Mrs. “Not doing a damned thing,” she called out to them. For a second, she turned around and her eyes wandered over the group of onlookers who still hadn’t moved, and were still whispering to one another. The boy said nothing, didn’t react at all. “Dear lord, child, what happened to you?” I heard her half-scream in alarm. Then, my next-door neighbor’s door burst open, and I watched as old Mrs. More than once, he stumbled and almost crashed to the ground. His clothes were dirty, used up, almost bleached, as if he’d been walking in the sun like this for years. His eyes were bloodshot, his lips nothing but tiny parched lines. He was dragging himself forward on the street. When I went outside to see what all the fuss was about, I saw a little boy. Nothing ever happened in a small town like ours. They were talking to one another and pointing at something down the road. A group of my neighbors had gathered which. One morning, about a week ago, I noticed a commotion outside.
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