Missing - A Short Story

GERALD WAS not an early-riser. He was, generally speaking, the last one out of bed in the morning. And even when he did finally rouse himself and stagger downstairs for breakfast, the extent to which he was really “with it” was a subject hotly debated among his family members. Not without reason. During his first waking hour, Gerald typically resembled a lethargic, sleep-deprived zombie.

This morning things were different. Gerald was awake and out of bed and in complete possession of his faculties. He was looking for something - something that was supposed to be safe and sound in the cardboard box under his bed, but wasn't.

The pajama-clad boy made his way cautiously down the upstairs hallway, flashlight in hand, treading the carpet with a light foot, anxious not to make any noise. The house was quiet. Its occupants – with the exception of Gerald – were still fast asleep. Outside, the pre-dawn world was just turning pink.

Gerald paused when he reached his brother's bedroom door. He opened it, softly. The room was dark, save for a faint glimmer that penetrated the cracks in the window blinds. He got down on his hands and knees and flicked on the flashlight and crawled around, inspecting the room for signs of his lost possession. Under the bed – nothing. Under the dresser – nothing. In the closet – double nothing. He sighed and exited the room in disappointment, closing the door behind him.

He continued down the hallway. He checked his sister's room: it wasn't there. He checked the baby's room: it wasn't there, either. When he came to his parents room he hesitated. Better check there last, he reasoned, and moved on.

Downstairs was a disappointment. He scoured the kitchen, the living room, the pantry, the laundry room – all to no avail. The thing was nowhere to be found. He trudged back up the stairs - silence be dashed.

Outside his parent's bedroom, he stopped. His eyes stared into the wooden framework of the door, as if he could see through it and beyond. He frowned. It's gotta be in there, he thought. Where else? I've looked everywhere. It's not like it could just disappear from the face of earth.

At least, he didn't think it could.

He opened the door and slipped into the room. He dropped to the floor again and resumed his search, sweeping the darker recessess with the yellowy beam of his flashlight. It's gotta be here. It's just gotta.

“Gerald? Is that you?”

He froze, then turned slowly around. He could see his Dad sitting up in bed, hair mussed, eyes blinking. “Er, yeah, Dad... it's me.” Gerald grinned, sheepishly.

“What are you doing... Ach! Stop shining that thing in my eyes!”

Gerald pointed the light at the floor. “Sorry.”

“What are you doing?” came the question again, this time more sharply.

“I was just looking for something, is all,” Gerald stammered. “Didn't mean to wake you.”

“Looking for what?” his Dad asked, reaching onto the nightstand and fumbling with his glasses.

“Um, about that...”

“Answer the question, Gerald.”

The boy swallowed hard. “I was looking for my science experiment,” he blurted. “I think it wandered in here by mistake.”


ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Corey Poff is first and foremost a sinner saved by grace alone. He's sixteen, an avid writer, and a lover of books, movies, music, logic, Reformed theology, history, guns, and the great outdoors. And Italian food.