The Lost Child

Nell’s husband walks up to the picnic table with their 7-year-old son following behind, having just returned from the pavilion where the bathrooms were located.

“Where’s Ben?” Nell and her husband say in unison, and just like that, time seems to slow down, and fear begins to surge like a wave steadily growing before it gets ready to crash upon the shore.

“He followed you to the bathrooms.” says Nell, as Bryce, her husband says, “I thought he was with you.”

Nell’s mind begins to jump from thought to thought at astonishing speeds. ‘My baby is lost!’ is first, followed by ‘Where could he be?’ In three seconds, her eyes have swept across the fairgrounds where the family has spent the morning, going on rides, playing on playground equipment, throwing cornhole and horseshoes, and face painting. There are many people around; parents and children fill her view. Her 4–year-old could be anywhere.

She turns to her husband who has also been scanning the area. “You walk back towards the bathrooms while I look around here.” He nods and starts walking back the way he has just come, yelling their son’s name.

Nell turns to her 10-year-old daughter and 7-year-old son sitting at the picnic table wearing identical expressions of worry. “Don’t move from this spot!” she says with a tone of voice that leaves no room for argument, then spins and starts walking in the opposite direction.

‘How long has Ben been missing?’ she wonders. Her husband and son were at the bathrooms for about 4-5 minutes, and it has been fifteen seconds or so since she realized her youngest son's absence. 'How far could he go in that amount of time?'

Nell’s body and mind turn into a finely tuned machine as she rapidly and efficiently walks uneven dirt paths and dodges groups of people, while calling for Ben and sweeping her eyes continually back and forth, trying to spot him. Meanwhile, her brain not only takes in and processes the things she is seeing, but also recalls pertinent information and forms plans.

‘What is Ben wearing?’ wonders Nell. She remembers he is wearing his favorite yellow shirt with the excavator truck on the front. Now she is looking for anything yellow and her eyes are drawn to the color in many different directions. It takes her no time at all to look at each bright yellow object or piece of clothing and dismiss it as not belonging to Ben.

With each slowly passing second, she feels her panic starting to rise just a bit more. “Ben!” she calls for the ninth time; the concern in her voice causes other parents to look up and frown, hearing the distress in the tone. Past the playground and by the food stalls, Nell stops and looks right, then left, wondering which way she should search now.

‘Surely Ben would not have gone as far as the fair’s entrance, back to the activities we started with?’ She runs through her mind the activities Ben has enjoyed most this morning like the petting zoo and the train ride. She rejects the likelihood that he has returned to those activities and turns left to walk around the food stalls, which will bring her in a circle, around the playground, and back to the picnic tables.

Her steps are quick and wide as she hurries through the crowds, calling her baby’s name. ‘He MUST be here!’ she screams in her mind. 'Has someone else found him? Maybe they’ve taken him to the front ticket booth. Surely the fair must have employees that can look after a lost child until the parents can be found?'

Nell cannot stop her thoughts as they start down a darker, more fearful path.

‘What if someone has taken my little boy?’ She questions if she should go to the front booth and ask employees to stop people from leaving; try to lock down the area to make sure no adult is sneaking off with Ben? 'Can they make an announcement over the PA system? Is it too soon to call the police?'

She sees a small boy wearing a yellow shirt and for just a moment, her hopes rise as she thinks it might be Ben, before her heart is stabbed with icy fear when she realizes it is not him. How long has she been searching now? Thirty seconds? Forty?

She feels a weighty urgency as she finishes her loop and begins jogging back to the picnic table, looking for her husband. ‘Maybe he has found their son?’ As she steps around a group of people, she sees that Bryce is alone and not far from their table, hands around his mouth to amplify his yell as he calls for Ben.

‘It is just so noisy,’ thinks Nell. ‘It’s unlikely Ben will be able to hear us if he is any distance away.’ She tries to swallow down a sudden lump in her throat as her next terrifying thought follows the previous one, ‘would I be able to hear him screaming for me if he were in trouble?’

She reaches her husband and his expression of frustration and fear mirrors hers as he sees that she too has had no luck finding their boy. He turns away and starts walking and calling again, his hands cupped around his mouth.

Nell casts a glance at her two children still sitting at the picnic table. She simply confirms to herself that they are still there without stopping to say anything to them, since she has no assurances to offer.

She can feel tears start to prick the corners of her eyes, but she tries her best to push them back down as she starts walking again around the playground. She doesn’t need tears blurring her vision and hampering her search. Her spine straightens as she commands herself not to fall apart. She is calling Ben’s name and is nearly passed the playground a second time when something yellow catches her attention. She swivels quickly to see a small boy standing up from the bottom of the rocket ship slide. It is Ben!

“Thank God!” she says as she runs towards him, relief crashing through all of her former emotions like a violent tidal wave. She doesn’t blink, making sure he is in her sight until she is close enough to scoop him up into a hug. She begins to scold him without any real anger as she turns to walk back toward the picnic tables. For his part, Ben seems unaware of the fright he has caused his family, and in the manner of many obstinate 4-year-olds, is unrepentant.

Nell walks quickly towards her husband shouting “I found him!” She says it three times until he is within range to hear her, and she glories each time she says it, knowing that her fear is gone, and she is holding her baby boy safely in her arms. Bryce turns and Nell sees his shoulders drop and his body loses the tension it was carrying during the one-minute, heart-stopping race around the fairgrounds. He gathers both his wife and child into a hug before they head back to the picnic table where their other children are waiting; a relieved family - reunited.