Lost Simon

LOST SIMON

By Peter Giles

The cabin in the woods had been abandoned for years, but one night, a candle burned in the window. It flickered in and out in the darkness and Red guessed correctly Dan hadn’t found the flashlights yet as he walked toward the old rescue shelter. Nobody had gone missing in Natas Valley before and this was big. Real big. How could a three-year-old seemingly vanish within a ten-minute window at the campsite that he was the part-time Forest Ranger?

The sign said ‘Natas Valley Tourist Walk’ and the wooden cutout map of the region appeared comical with the sign rusted and limply hanging as Red hurried past. He entered the candle-lit cabin. It had never been used before as far as he knew. Not for an event like this.

‘Where are the parents? Red asked Dan as he entered. The rich smell of dust was obvious to both of them as they slid the survival boxes out from under the coarse wooden table.

‘At the campsite still talking to the Sheriff,’ replied Dan.

‘I’ve been telling the council for years they have to connect electricity,’ cursed Red.

‘How could the parents lose their three-year-old boy?’

‘Well, it turns out the father thought the mother was watching him and the mother thought the father was doing the same. The father took a crap and the mother went a short distance into the tent to get some nappies or something and when she returned the boy had vanished.’

‘Cougar or bear?’

‘That’s a quick assumption,’ said Red, ‘Especially since I haven’t seen a bear in three seasons. Cougar? Possible I guess.’

‘The cold. Now that would kill anything out here at night. Let’s hope…’

‘Who knows? I only know we’re it until tomorrow. It’ll take that long to get a proper search party organized.’

‘Hey, I thought we were the search party,’ said Dan.

‘No way. We’re the public relations team. Finding a three-year-old out here at night? We do one loop of the park and by morning they’ll have the bloodhounds over this place like glue.’

Together they opened the heavy metal boxes and started throwing equipment over the floor. There were three boxes in total. The first contained twenty maps of the area, flashlights, batteries, flares and a gun, binoculars, roping equipment, and a first-aid kit. The second was filled with a staging area tent, wet and winter gear, bright search and rescue raincoats, and 3 sets of walkie-talkies. The third had mass casualty equipment- body tags and bags, different colored ground sheets, food kits containing glucose, chocolate protein bars, bottled water, compasses, thermal silver blankets, whistles, and three head-lamps.

‘I haven’t been back here since I first made these up, back in the nineties,’ Red said as he pulled out the map.

‘You’re right. With this equipment, the boy has no chance.’ Dan tossed a corroded torch in the bin.

‘Yeah, but we gotta’ go. They can find him in the morning. We’ll follow Bailey’s track, and we should be able to do the complete circle by sun-up. By then Wilson’s County will take over - if we can’t find him.’

‘You mean when we can’t find him.’ Dan mumbled.’

‘Yeah. The most likely scenario.’

‘You know the chances of finding him at night out here are almost zero.’

‘Yes, I know that, but we gotta’ try. The parents are still here.’

‘Of course. I’m hearing ya! They must be crazy by now.’

The map showed the region was only twelve kilometers wide, surrounded on all sides by mountains to an elevation of 5000 feet. The Benson track, named after an early pioneer, was the easiest path a child could follow but there was no telling in which direction he had gone. Realistically, they could be 30 feet away and, in this forest, they could walk straight by him.

It was a short walk to the trailhead where Sheriff Hughes shuffled his hands and feet trying to keep warm. Red gave a walkie-talkie to the Sheriff and showed their route on the map. The parents, in the background, were beside themselves, centered on a covered picnic table. They had tears running down their faces. They both sat miserably, wrapped in green blankets with a few campers consoling them, hoping for the impossible from Red and Dan.

‘We’ll be back by first light,’ Red told the Sheriff, ’If he’s out here on the track we’ll find him.’ He lied.

Red and Dan both avoided eye contact with the parents. The child only had blue long pants and a light jumper on when last seen. It was in the low forties and Red had seen the weather forecast when driving in. It said, drizzle all night. The mother stood and ran over, grabbing Red by the arm and exclaimed, ‘Simon had his monkey puppet with him. We haven’t found that anywhere.’

‘A monkey puppet’ interrupted Dan, ‘Is it very big?’

‘About as big as your hand, and brown fur. It’s his favorite snuggle toy.’

‘O.K. we’ll keep our eyes open for it, Ma’am.’ Red had to remove the mother’s fingers from his arm to leave. He could feel the desperation. ‘Ma’am, if he’s there, we’ll get him.’ He lied again.

On the trail, Dan paused for a moment trying to hear but only the wind and rain falling on their parkas were audible and steam rose from their mouths like infected gas contaminating the pristine wildness. Dan felt terrible. As if they didn’t have a right to be here. The forest at night could keep its’ secrets, as far as he cared. This was a deep fear, but he didn’t know why, even though he was quite an accomplished athlete and bush-walker and he had even conquered Mt.Superior on one occasion.

The leaves of pine and brush lit up with their flashlights and headgear, turning darkness into a grey and white silver, as they moved along the track. It seemed to envelop them into a long ago, black and white movie film. The type that could snap at any minute.

They both knew the track well enough and realized that calling out wouldn’t really help, mainly thinking a three-year-old probably wouldn’t respond to their voice, but they felt better by calling out his name anyway. They would pause against the wind with their ears turned hoping the lonely sounds would carry toward their raised ears.

To their right, the embankment ran away forming rocky and grassy slopes and to their left, there were rock outcroppings of the mountain range above them. It reminded Dan of a giant, breathing in his sleep as this section of the mountain overlooked them, and the wind ran off and iced the paths with gusty winds. Every few yards they stopped and pointed their flashlights down the slope. At times it dropped into a dark abyss where no light would penetrate. Occasionally they’d kick a rock or two and it would bounce down into nowhere. They had been traveling for about an hour when they could hear Jason Falls sounding from the distance. It was a few miles ahead yet, but in the quiet of the night, it carried very long. The river itself wasn’t really part of the park, it diverted further east and away and they couldn’t see the boy getting to the river from here. The light rain started to fall heavier and the moon was soon extinguished.

Red heard the walkie-talkie crackle.

‘Come in Chief, Red here.’

‘Sheriff here, Red? Anything yet?’

‘No. Nothing so far. We’ve reached Marble Pass, there’s light rain and we haven’t seen or heard a thing.’

‘Understood. Check in again when you can. Also, the news is out - tomorrow there will be two hundred searchers, dogs, and two helicopters.’

‘Thanks, Sheriff. It looks like we’ll need them. Red out.’

‘And so, the circus starts,’ said Dan chewing on a chocolate bar.

Red and Dan felt relief that soon more searches would be looking at first light and it seemed to increase their pace. ‘We have to at least try, said Red, stopping, crouching down every few feet, pausing to shine his light into the undergrowth. The Red maple, Sweetgum, and Black birch trees form a ghostly cover, difficult to see through and needing investigation and his torch rays did their best to penetrate. Some trees had been destroyed by Hemlock infestation leaving tall stakes in parts, stacked against each other, almost appearing as prison wires in the darkness or so Red thought. He pointed this out to Dan.

‘I agree it’s creepy at night. You know all the stories you hear.’

‘Like what?’

‘Oh, you know. Sasquatch hunts at night. Serial killers in a forest. That sort of shit.’ ‘Yeah, but not tonight. We’re on a limited mission. One circuit and that’s it.’

Together they both felt something. Initially, a calming of the wind made everything still and silent. They both stopped, trying to hear anything on the night air. Red tilted his head in a moment of uncertainty, wanting more information than the forest would give. They both are grateful the wind stopped but they found another level to the forest. They felt momentarily in a void. A nothingness in time and space.

‘Weird,’ said Red. ‘I feel like something’s…’.

A faint high-pitched sound in their ears pierced their world. It rose slowly catching their attention. It was enough to blot out the distant waterfall, and Red turned trying to locate the source, although it seemed to come from nowhere.

‘What is that? Do you feel it?’, asked Red as he swallowed to unblock his eardrums.

Dan bent over, trying to escape from the sound. ’It’s not from outside. It’s internal. Kinda' like you’ve been in the front row of a Deaf Leopard Concert.’

‘It feels like tinnitus. Not that I’ve ever had it.’

‘Both of us at the same time?’

As the noise became louder, they both crouched, clutching their ears. The headlamps became ajar and cut out, leaving the black of the forest and the pain in their ears as their only master. It became unbearable and they rolled on the ground begging for it to cease, then as quickly as it started, it stopped. Both panting for breath and catching in icy air they found some relief, but were now, very unstrung.

‘What the hell? Was that some sort of weapon?’ said Red.

‘Maybe it’s the mountain. I could feel a vibration under my feet,’ Dan said.

The uncertainty that the sound could come back again at any moment unnerved them both. It left them perplexed as to where it had come from or what it was. Finally, they stood up and Red called to Dan. ‘See that?’ as he pointed to the path. Ahead, a remarkable display. Bright dots floated randomly, lighting the way in what seemed bizarre on a windswept forest path. It could have been a mirage, like in a desert, or so Dan thought, leading the believers to nowhere but lost in the woods. Their eyes adjusted making a granite overhang visual and the green moss took on a luminescence with the unnatural light of their surroundings.

‘Fireflies,’ said Red.

They both paused for a minute to watch the beauty of their dance take on a rhythmic quality. On and off every few seconds, the tiny beacons shone, creating a spectacle that lessened any modern fireworks. As the two drew closer, the show lights blinked as if in harmony with the forest and then stopped.

‘That would entice a child to go further,’ said Red.

Dan all of a sudden whispered to Red. ’You see that, Red?

‘What?’ Red focused his eyes.’

‘Past the trees, down the slope, and by those rocks. At the back of that granite boulder.’

A hooded figure, perched alone in the darkness stood motionless. It was black and completely still, seemingly at attention in the forest at night. There was no eye shine - or a face for that matter. Only the black outline of a hooded figure.

‘What the…? What is that… Red whispered?’

Then it moved, ever so slightly in the dark.

Their whispers took on an urgency.

‘Is that for real?’ exclaimed Dan.

‘That thing has fuckin’ horns!’

Two elongated spirals jutted from its’ head, initially hidden in the backdrop of night.

They both started to freak.

‘Do you think it’s got something to do with the sound we heard? asked Dan.’

‘I have no idea.’

‘Maybe it’s a Buck?’

‘That’s no fuckin’ deer.’

They sat frozen not knowing what to do.

Then Red said, ‘Should we chase it? To find out what it is?’

‘Not on your fuckin’ life. I’m not going down there to find out.’

‘But maybe it’s a Halloween trick, or someone trying to scare us?’

‘In March? Out here? You gotta’ be kiddin’ me.’

It stood without further movement, seemingly in perfect harmony with the surrounding features, camouflaged but it was as unnatural as the sound had been. If they hadn’t known better it could be floating in and out of the shadows on constant observation of their movements and they’d never have known. It moved its’ arm and it held a staff, or a stick, or a pole of some kind.

Dan whispered, ‘Gandalf?’

Gandalf? It’s not Lord of the Rings, Dan. We’re in the middle of fuckin’ nowhere.’

Quickly it retreated into the blackness and vanished.

‘Holy shit, what was that?’

‘Red, let’s turn back.’

‘What about the boy? Maybe it’s some form of Devil worship or something?’

‘If there’s a crazy out here and that boy Simon as well. Then we have to find him.’

‘We’re going to find him Red? We’re going to find him? Out here? At night? This is a public relations exercise, as I remember.’

‘Look. I have an idea. We’ll get to the falls and turn around by going through the ravine on our right on the way back. It’s an easier walk than tracing deeper into the park. Whatever this thing is we’ll be able to sneak up on it, or flush it out and at least say we investigated it. The sheriff will want us to…’. Red reached down and realized the walkie-talkie was missing. He said nothing, secretly glancing to the track for it and he didn’t want to scare Dan any more than he was. This was too much already and the walkie-talkie could have slipped off miles away.

‘Let’s keep moving.’

They didn’t talk much but noticed their walking began to slow down. They spent more time searching the undergrowth off the track and below without seeing the boy or the figure. The waterfall sound increased in volume and they eventually came to the lookout overlooking the ancient cascade, built in the last ice age. The river spray sent droplets in every direction.

Red shouted above the noise, ‘Keep going down and we can turn right at the pools below and return to base that way.’

They began to walk down a series of man-made wooden steps that led to the base. The steps were lit by solar-powered lights which made the walk easier. Dan led the way with Red following close behind. They were moving down to the final section of steps when Dan called out. “Look!’

Dan reached and picked something up off the ground and turning to Red he proudly showed Red the boy’s Monkey hand-puppet.

‘He got this far? Oh, shit. The waterfall.’

Immediately it dawned on them both that this meant the possibility of drowning. They quickly ran down to a natural pool that formed at the bottom of the falls and shone their lights looking for any sign of Simon. There was nothing obvious on the water line and using their flashlights they tried to penetrate the water and surrounding brushes around the rock pool. The vegetation had grown smaller and wider with palms and leaves making their job more difficult and the moss, as slippery as soap. Dan turned and saw Red stripping off his clothes down to his underpants.

‘Now, I know what you are thinking, Red. Are you sure you want to do this?’ said Dan.

‘That boy, if he is in there, I’ll find him. I have a towel in my pack and it won’t take long to search.’

‘But it’s freezing?’

‘Tourists swim here every day.’

‘When they do it’s not 40 degrees.’

‘We gotta’ at least try.’

There was no stopping Red. He edged cautiously out to the pool, to the entry point. Dan thought it a stupid idea but valid, regardless. It seemed common logic the boy might be dead in the water.

Red’s feet slowly stepped into the pool and he made it to waist height. He immediately began to shiver and taking a deep breath dove down into the pool.

Dan kept his flashlight on Reds’ entrance location, daring not to take it off.

Red got to the far side of the pool and shook his head as he rose from the water. From the cold he moaned in anguish on each ascension, kicking and plunging quickly down again and making it to the other side. He did this at least five times and on the final attempt, while under the water Dan looked back up toward the waterfall. He thought he saw a glowing blue, neon cocoon floating in front of the first waterfall drop-off; if for a brief second the visual effect seemed caused by the solar torches lighting the steps. The refraction of light and water gave this place an eeriness at night.

Red broke the silence resurfacing, and called, “Nothing. Not a thing.’

Dan came quickly with Red’s towel and handed it to a shaking Red.

Red said, ‘That’s dark down there, but I managed to touch and scrape the bottom. There’s nothing down there that I could feel.’

‘At least we know he hasn’t drowned.’

Red quickly dressed. ‘I think we need a break.’ They had been walking non-stop for four hours now and beginning to tire. Red grabbed his water bottle and some chocolate and protein bars from his backpack and began eating. ‘What’s wrong partner? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.’

‘I want to go back up. To the top of the stairs,’ Dan said.’

‘Why?’

‘I think we’ll get a better view of the area. This was the last place we know he was, and he still could be here.’

‘Unless someone carried the puppet here and dropped it.’

‘Maybe you’re right, but we can use the flood light key on the torches to light the place up.’

‘You know what that’ll mean?’

‘No. What?

‘The torches will run down quicker. We might be left with no lighting.’

‘We still have our headlamps.’

Dan started up the walkway.

‘Ok. Ok,’ said Red, ‘We’ll have a break after we do this.’

Red dragged himself up and followed.

At the top, they could only see blackness down from the waterfall crest. Dan was right. The shadows thrown from the solar light weren’t really helping; only creating more darkness that prevented them from truly seeing.

Red broke a branch to use as ground support for the flashlights. Once on full strength, they’d become hot and needed balance to remain stationary and by the time he turned around Dan had edged over the wet, wooden railing. There was an overhang of trees that shadowed the view below. Red became worried and shouted over the noise. ‘Hey, be careful that fence is there for a reason.’

‘Yeah. To keep idiots like us out.’

Dan moved onto rocks next to the waterfall and groped for the overhang. Once he put his foot on another rock, he slipped. His head snapped backward with a force that could break an oak tree. Red sensed the worse. In a moment, Dan’s body tumbled and swept completely off the first ledge. Reds’ eyes could only follow him down the rapids, watching Dan’s limp movements, tumble over and over on each section of the fall. At the pool, Dan did not re-surface.

Red ran down and fully dressed dived into the pool. He kept crossing over the pool, with frantic effort, touching the bottom and searching. After his tenth attempt, he gave up, utterly exhausted. His breathing, heavily falling and rising, gave into defeat, and with it, the realization that Dan was lost, trapped somewhere on the bottom of that pool.

Red stared up at the waterfall’s drop-off point utterly defeated. He could have avoided all this by saying no, and shock and blame set in. Dan, single and with no children were much too young and together they made the most, stupid, foolish, and amateur mistake they could. At this point, Simon could not have mattered any less and this was Red’s public relations exercise gone horribly wrong. He believed this in his heart, fully for what was the point of one dying and one not found. He screamed Simon’s name in anger to the surrounding forest and waterfall and sobbed, completely undone. There was no reply, but the stupid deafening roar of the waterfall.

He crouched there for an unknown period of time then sat, on the basement wooden porch and shook violently as hypothermia crept into his body. He didn’t have much longer before he’d be the next victim which he felt for a long moment, that that may be better. In the twilight created by the solar lights, the cresting water above appeared as a finger would, with the index pointing down, angled toward each ledge. Red now saw it as a sign from the falls, pointing danger to all who enter. In his lowest point of solitude, he looked to the first crest where Dan first slipped acknowledging how far Dan fell and how no one could survive that fall. Then a blue, weak shape came from the waterfall. Yes. He could make it out. It shimmered like a blue bubble, picking up light and lighting the falls.

Red picked himself up, with his heavy pack, and climbed up the stairs again to the top. It seemed to take forever. Arriving at the site where Dan had entered, he cautiously climbed over the fence, moving immediately to his hands and knees. He crawled through the water, over the slippery rocks, where the first drop-off of water poured. So soaked through, only one thing mattered. To find this little Simon or to die trying. The flow hammered upon his back. Sharp, stinging and freezing. At the back of the fall, there was an overhang, invisible from the tourist fence and it created a natural cave. Among the dugout, the body of Simon lay on the floor, still and lifeless. Completely hidden by the flow of the water-fall and placed on a rock, like a sacrificial lamb, anyone standing on the stairs only a few yards away would never see him, even at full light.

Red picked him up and hugged him. Simon felt warm in his arms or was Red that cold? He wasn’t sure, but Simon was dry. He covered Simon with his body and did his best to protect him from the fall and the sprays and droplets seemed to revitalize them both, Red gaining his strength and Simon starting to move. He seemed in a deep sleep-almost a coma. But he was alive.

#

As the days progressed following the incident, they never found Dan. It caused suspicion and speculation among the community and local authorities but they never charged Red with a crime. He passed all polygraph tests and without proof, the Sheriff’s office could do nothing. However, they did find signs of devil worship in the park – pentagrams, fires, and sacrifice sites of bones and animal skulls but all investigations lead nowhere. After this event, Red never returned to forest ranger service and from last account he became a recluse, dying from alcohol poisoning six years later. The boy Simon, survived and never could recall the event or how he happened to be behind the waterfall. There were theories that Red staged the whole incident himself and that he killed Dan in a jealous rage but they never could prove it – I suppose the forest likes to keep its secrets.

End