The Talent Diary

by Chris McFarland

  Chapter 11: Missing

  Samantha was awakened by a rapid knock on her door, unlike her mother’s usual fluttery tap or her father’s languid double knock. She sat up, realizing she was still in her school clothes. Her head was groggy and she had no concept of time because it was dark. Her clock stated 5:45 PM, which meant she had slept two hours.

  “Come in.”

  To Samantha’s surprise, her mother opened the door and sat down at the foot of her bed.

  “Did you have a good nap,” she asked.

  “I didn’t think I was going to sleep that long. I feel really groggy.”

  “That’s why I can’t take naps during the day. I don’t feel right until the next morning.”

  Sandra took in a deep breath and let it out, running her eyes over the decorations of the room. She traced the lines and falls of the mountains and looked at the eagles. Worried that perhaps her parents had heard she was sick, Samantha decided to preempt her mother’s questions.

  “It’s probably nothing,” she said.

  “What’s probably nothing,” her Mom asked, twisting her body to look at her directly.

  “I mean, I was just a little tired, that’s all. I feel much better now.”

  “Well good. I’m glad you’re feeling fine, although I didn’t know you were feeling bad. Actually, I have a very important question to ask you. Do you know if Mark was planning to ditch school and go anywhere today?”

  It was the last thing Samantha had expected to hear and for a moment she didn’t have a response. Later, Samantha realized how guilty a pause appears when answering a direct question. In the moment, however, she just sat there looking at her mother with no expression.

  “You did know something, didn’t you,” Sandra said. “It’s alright. His mother came by and asked. I said I would ask you. Let me know where he is so his parents can go get him.”

  “Mark wasn’t at school today. Cliff said he was sick.”

  “Come on Samantha. Please give me a little more respect than that. Like I said, I’m not mad. I only want to know what he said he was going to do.”

  “I’m not lying Mom,” Samantha said, yawning. “Cliff said that Mark hurt his head yesterday and was feeling kind of dizzy so he stayed home. He didn’t say anything about Mark going anywhere.”

  Sandra looked at her with a mix of hidden anxiety and exasperation. Samantha felt uncomfortable under the weight of her mother’s stare but she didn’t divert her eyes. She didn’t feel guilty because she was telling the truth, but something about her mother’s stare always made her feel as if she had done something wrong. At last, her mother got up, smoothing the bed sheets where she had been sitting.

  “So you really didn’t hear him saying anything? Your Dad said that you went to play over there yesterday.”

  “Yeah I did. But I never heard him talk about going anywhere today.”

  “OK.” Sandra paused, observing Samantha’s sleep matted hair and wrinkled clothes. “Neil is staying for dinner and we’re going to eat soon. You’ll probably want to get up.”

  “I’m up,” Samantha said, “I wanted a little nap, that’s all.”

  Sandra gave her one last doubtful look and left the room. Samantha got up, wincing at the pain in her neck. However, she was pleased at how much of her strength had come back already. She changed into sweats, a sweatshirt, and walked into the kitchen in her bare feet. Neil was sitting on a stool at the counter, talking with her father. Then the phone rang, stopping conversation, and her father picked it up.

  “Hello? Yes, just a moment.”

  He turned and looked at Samantha, holding out the phone. She grabbed it and made an immediate half turn, expecting it to be Becky or Marissa calling to find out why she hadn’t come back to class. In her mind she was already planning the story she would tell, since she couldn’t tell them the truth. Instead, it was Cliff.

  “Samantha? Did your Mom come to talk to you?”

  His voice did not sound normal and Samantha realized he sounded more frightened than he had inside the tunnel. Struggling to keep her voice normal and not betraying the surprise and unease she felt, Samantha said, “Yeah,” and walked with the portable phone back to her bedroom.

  “Five minutes only,” her Dad called. Samantha gave him a thumbs-up over her shoulder and closed her door.

  “Mark wasn’t here when we got home,” Cliff said. “My parents were really mad and thought that he faked being sick so he could ditch and go do something. So, they talked to your parents to see if you knew something. What did you say?”

  “I just said that you told me he hurt his head and was at home. I said I never heard him saying anything about going anywhere.”

  “That’s what I said too but I’m starting to get worried. He isn’t back yet and no one has seen him. And I found an empty battery pack on his bed when I came in after school. I think he got another flashlight and went back to the tunnel.”

  “What!”

  “I know. I think he may have gone back there. I didn’t tell my parents but he wouldn’t stop talking about it last night. He wanted to see where it went and he wanted to find out what was above the trapdoors. I said I wanted to go back too, and I do, but I was going to wait until the weekend at least. I thought he really had hurt his head and that was why he stayed home. Why wouldn’t he tell me?”

  “Maybe he hurt his head bad enough that he didn’t know what he was doing,” Samantha said.

  There was a moment of shocked silence on the line. When he came back on Cliff’s voice was thick with worry.

  “Do you think that’s possible?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe. Did he seem normal to you last night?”

  “Sort of. He had a huge bump on the back of his head but he was making sense when he talked. He really wanted to go back to the tunnel though. He wouldn’t shut up about it.”

  “Well, if he was making sense I doubt that he would’ve done something that he didn’t want to do. But why wouldn’t he tell you.” Samantha asked. “Don’t you guys tell each other everything?”

  “I guess.”

  “He probably lost track of time if that’s where he went. You know how it was back in the tunnel. I bet he’s back soon.”

  “But what if he gets hurt and can’t get back? What if there is something bad, like Satan worshippers or something, way back at the end of the tunnel?”

  There was a knock on the door and her Dad said dinner was ready.

  “He’ll be fine Cliff. I’ve got to go to dinner but call me as soon as he gets home.”

  “Sure. Bye.”

  “Bye.”

  Samantha hung up the phone, wondering why she was not more worried about Mark. It didn’t take her long to understand the answer. So much had happened during the day that walking in the tunnel did not seem important. Why did it matter if Mark was a little late getting home after playing hooky when she had been attacked by an operator? Samantha walked out of her room and into the kitchen to hang up the phone. She could hear her parents and Grandpa talking in the dining room, so she got a plate and made a burrito, choosing the rice, chicken, beans, and cheese. She also filled a bowl with chips and salsa, grabbed a glass of water, and went into the dining room.

  “Finally decided to join us, eh Samantha,” Thomas said, smiling. “How was Mark?”

  Samantha almost dropped her plate in surprise. Did her parents know that Mark had asked her to the dance and she had said yes? She was keeping that a secret.

  “It wasn’t Mark, Dad,” Samantha said, sitting down. “It was Cliff.”

  “Did Mark come home yet,” Sandra asked.

  “No. Cliff was worried about him.”

  She was hungry and wanted to start eating, but she waited to see if there were any more questions. Sandra frowned and leaned over to whisper something in Thomas’s ear. He nodded, looked at Samantha, but said nothing.

  “What?”

  “Nothing dear. I suppose Cliff called to find out if Mark told you why he was ditch
ing school today?”

  “I don’t know. He asked if I had seen him.”

  There was a long pause at the table and Samantha picked up her burrito and took a bite, but her appetite had faded. Slowly she chewed her food, wanting someone to talk or tell a funny story, wondering why the mood was so tense. No one did, and the dinner went on with only fitful conversation. Finally, Samantha finished her burrito, brought her plates into the kitchen, and escaped to her bedroom. She sat on the edge of her bed, trying to understand why her parents were so upset with her and why her Grandpa had done nothing to help the situation.

  She walked into the living room thirty minutes later to watch some television. Neil was sitting in the easy chair, reading a thick novel about warlords in Asia. Thomas was lying on the couch and seemed to be taking a nap. Her mother was not around. When Neil saw Samantha walk in he put the book aside and caught her eyes. She didn’t know what to do, so she looked back at him, trying to understand what he was communicating. She was unable to read him though, so she walked to the television, turned it on, and hunted for the remote.

  Neil resumed reading and Samantha flipped through some channels without finding anything good to watch. She turned the television back off and sat fidgeting on the chair. She picked up a magazine and paged through it, finally finding an article on black holes that sparked her interest. She was halfway through the article when there was a knock on the front door.

  Thomas opened his eyes and sat up, rubbing absently at his forehead. Neil also looked up, apprehensively. She wondered who would be at the door after eight and figured that it wasn’t going to be good news, whoever it was. Thomas finally got up to answer the door. Both Neil and Samantha got up to follow him. The knock came again.

  Thomas opened the door to reveal two police officers Samantha recognized, Officers Robinson and Martinez. They each carried an aloof expression on their faces, as if they had seen everything twice before. However, Samantha thought they looked tenser than the last time she had seen them, after Mr. Henson called the police because of fireworks being set off in the backyard.

  “Can we help you gentlemen,” Thomas asked.

  “Well, we certainly hope so. We’d like you to come to the Wilson’s house with us. Their son Mark is missing.”

  “He isn’t back yet,” Samantha asked, before she could think.

  There was a long pause. The officers looked at her, their expression not changing, but both sets of eyes were intense and she felt them prying at her, trying to make her say more. Her father had also made a slow turn to face her directly, a disappointed expression on his face.

  “Let us grab our coats,” Thomas said. “We’ll be right there.”

  “Thank you sir,” Office Robinson said, looking at Samantha.

  Samantha felt her face going red and there was a simmering heat in her stomach. She thought she wouldn’t keep her burrito down and, as her father brushed by her to get their coats, she had to clench her teeth together to keep from throwing up. Then Neil was whispering in her ear.

  “I don’t know what you’re doing,” Neil said, “but my suggestion is that you tell the truth and get it over with.”

  Samantha looked up at her grandfather, who was looking back kindly but firmly. The officers were walking down the sidewalk and they disappeared around the corner of the garage before Thomas got back with their coats.

  “Here,” he said shortly. Samantha pulled her coat around her and followed her father outside. The night was clear and cold. Her breath puffed out around her. She could see the police car in front of the Wilson’s house, its lights on and engine still running. Every lamp in the Wilson’s house appeared to be on and spare light from unblocked windows illuminated their front lawn. Mr. and Mrs. Wilson were on the porch, standing very close to each other. Cliff was standing behind them, his hands stuffed deeply into his pockets. Seeing Cliff brought questions to Samantha’s mind. Why did they need to speak with her about Mark? Cliff had told the police Mark went to the tunnel, hadn’t he?

  Officers Robinson and Martinez were speaking with the Wilsons. Thomas, Neil, and Samantha walked up to them and the officers turned so the Wilson’s could see them clearly. Thomas nodded hello to everyone but did not speak. There was a pause.

  “Mr. and Mrs. Wilson have reported their son Mark is missing. He stayed home from school today after complaining of a headache, but was not here when Mrs. Wilson and Cliff arrived home after 3:00 PM. We asked you to come over to see if you could help us in any way,” Officer Martinez said.

  Everyone looked at Samantha. She looked back calmly enough but had no idea how to respond. Cliff, standing behind everyone, was trying to communicate something to her and Samantha understood. Cliff had not told anyone about the tunnel and wanted to go find Mark himself tonight. For a moment Samantha couldn’t believe he was serious. Officer Robinson noticed Samantha looking at Cliff, so he turned to see what he was doing and Cliff stopped. She felt disgust at herself and realized why her Grandpa had told her just to tell the truth. She didn’t want to hide the truth out of concern for herself, when Mark could be hurt somewhere in the tunnel, yelling for help. That decided things. If Cliff had lied to his parents then he deserved whatever he got.

  “I don’t know for sure,” Samantha said slowly, “but I think Mark may have gone back to the tunnel.”

  “What tunnel,” Mr. Wilson barked.

  Samantha flinched, but continued. “We found a tunnel in the bamboo the yesterday. We went in and explored it. It’s really long, like a concrete tube. I think Mark may have gone back into it.”

  “In your own backyard,” Mr. Wilson said, “my wife went over to your house two hours ago, asking if you knew where he was and you said no. Why did you lie to her?”

  He was so angry he was shaking and he took a step forward, his hands clenched into fists. Neil moved in front of Samantha instinctively.

  “Mr. Wilson. Officer Martinez is going to call for help right now,” Office Robinson said, throwing a look at Martinez. Martinez walked away, pulling his walkie-talkie from his belt and speaking to the dispatcher. “We’ll get every officer we can in here and look through the tunnel for Mark.” He turned to Samantha. “Thank you for telling us what you know, Ms. Branson. Perhaps you could also show us how to get into this tunnel?”

  “Sure,” Samantha said quietly. She had been looking at her father, who did not look upset, merely sad and disappointed. “It’s in the bamboo in our backyard. We’ll need flashlights.”

  Mr. Wilson was staring at her, his nostrils flaring in and out. She turned away quickly and caught Cliff’s eyes, which looked frightened. He was looking at the back of his Dad’s head. Mrs. Wilson seemed to be in shock. However, her eyes became hopeful after Samantha mentioned the tunnel and that made Samantha feel as though she had done the right thing. Office Martinez finished speaking to the dispatcher and returned from the car with three flashlights.

  Thomas walked to their side gate and opened it, waving his right arm slightly to indicate that it led to the back yard.

  “This way, officers,” he said.

  Samantha led Officer Robinson and Martinez to the gate and through it. Thomas scurried into the garage and turned on the back porch light, which illuminated the porch, Jacuzzi, and garden. Officer Martinez did a double take as they came across Sandra, sitting in her hammock within the Jacuzzi.

  “What’s going on,” she asked, frightened.

  “We are going to find Mark,” Thomas said, his voice quiet and sad. He looked meaningfully at Sandra and her tense posture relaxed. Samantha felt her Mom’s eyes upon her. Sandra started to get out of the Jacuzzi but Samantha hurried on and led the officers to the edge of the eucalyptus grove. She noticed that the officers, as most people did when they first saw their backyard, were looking around in awe. The flashlights moved in and out of the trees, casting unusual shadows and making the grove look new even to Samantha’s eyes. She had rarely been out in the trees this late at night. They came out of the grove on the l
eft side of the bamboo, which Officer Martinez trained his light over for a moment, marveling at the height of the stalks. Samantha went straight to the entrance and paused.

  “You’re going to get muddy,” she said.

  “I think that’s fine considering the circumstances, Ms. Branson,” Officer Robinson said.

  Samantha dropped to her knees and crawled under the bamboo. The officers and Neil followed her but Thomas stayed behind.

  “I will let the other officers know where you are,” Thomas said.

  The three men were all much larger than Samantha and kept scratching their shoulders and backs on the rough bamboo stalks. Samantha paused at the fence, removed the fence board, went around the corner, and pulled the string for the door. Officer Robinson actually laughed when he saw the bamboo door open to reveal the tunnel beyond.

  “You’re a clever girl,” Officer Robinson said.

  Samantha crawled into the tunnel and stood up. One by one, the others came through the fence, with some difficulty. Samantha led them to the fork and turned right down the unfinished tunnel. They came to the trapdoor, with the metal slab lying off to one side exactly as Samantha remembered it.

  The officers squatted around the trapdoor and shined their lights inside the concrete tunnel.

  “So you and your friends found this the yesterday and went inside,” Officer Martinez asked.

  “Yes sir.”

  Samantha looked at her Grandpa and was disturbed by the expression on his face. She couldn’t place the emotion. His lips were drawn in towards his teeth and the corners of his eyes were wrinkled. He didn’t seem to be breathing.

  “What should we do partner? I bet the kid is down there,” Officer Robinson said.

  “I think we go now. Backup can follow us. We need to make sure this guy isn’t hurt. Hey Samantha. Does anything look different to you since you were here last?”

  That was a good question and it hadn’t occurred to her. She looked around and even peeked into the trapdoor and looked at the cement tube. Slowly she shook her head.

  “It looks exactly as it did when we left.”

  “OK. Thanks.” Officer Robinson turned to Neil. “We’re going down now. Can you please let our backup know where we are?”

  “I wonder where this thing comes out,” Officer Martinez said. He started to swing his legs into the hole. Neil took a step forward.

  “Officers? There are two things I should mention. One, once you get down there, yell a few times. Sound travels a long way in that tunnel and if Mark is down there and conscious, he’ll hear you. Two, there are other doors to this thing, but most of them used to be sealed shut. One at the other end is still open.”

  The two officers looked at him, not sure what to say.

  “You knew about the tunnel Grandpa,” Samantha asked, amazed.

  “Well, only after you mentioned it. It’s been forty-five years since I was in it and I had forgotten about it until now. The other open door comes out under the big church three blocks over.”

  “Three blocks,” Officer Robinson exclaimed.

  “Yes. I have no idea if the tunnel is like it used to be, but it used to be clean all the way over there so it was easy to go fast.”

  “It was still clean Grandpa,” Samantha said.

  “Alright then. Be sure to point our backup in the right direction,” Officer Robinson said.

  Martinez lowered himself in the hole and dropped to the bottom of the tunnel. He moved forward so Robinson could climb down. Officer Robinson had a belly over his belt and had more difficulty getting in. Samantha could see their flashlights as they checked every direction. Then Officer Robinson bellowed, “Mark! Mark Wilson! Can you hear us?”

  There was no response. Robinson tried again and waited, hearing nothing but his own echo bouncing off the end of the tunnel. Samantha scooted forward so she could look into the edge of the hole. She watched their flashlights recede in the distance, hearing their shuffling footsteps as they navigated the tunnel.

  She pushed back from the edge and stood, the first real pangs of worry about Mark gnawing her insides. Hearing the flat echoes with no accompanying response from Mark made her realize there might not be a quick answer. Once Cliff told her about the empty battery pack she assumed Mark had gone to the tunnel and that they would find him. Now, she realized, there was no guarantee he went anywhere near the tunnel.

  “What if he isn’t down there, Grandpa? I mean, wouldn’t he answer if he heard them?”

  “Yes,” he said slowly. “He would, unless he’s unconscious.”

  “How could he be unconscious though? It’s not like there’s anything to get hurt on down there.”

  Neil shrugged and Samantha could tell he did not want to say what he really thought, even though she couldn’t see much of his face in the dark.

  “Let’s go tell the other officers where they need to go. Actually, you may want to go to the house and talk to your parents. I’m sure they have some things to say to you.”

  Samantha looked at her feet, clad in dirty tennis shoes, and showed no signs of moving. Neil walked slowly down the trail and felt his way to the left turn. Then he slipped around the corner and disappeared towards the entrance, leaving Samantha alone in the dark bamboo. Despite all the time she had spent there, sometimes by herself and sometimes with friends, she had never experienced true unhappiness while in the bamboo. It was her place, a refuge from all the other parts of her life that were mostly good and sometimes bad. Now, however, she couldn’t help wondering if this place would ever be the same.

  Yet is was shameful, thinking of herself and not fully appreciating what Mark might be going through. What if he wasn’t just off somewhere, she wondered. What if he had been kidnapped and she had wasted time worrying about herself, time that could have been used to prevent his disappearance? What if they never found him? What was he seeing right at that very moment?

  These answerless questions wouldn’t leave her alone. That they were saturating her in this private spot, the one place where she never felt bad about herself, somehow amplified the feelings until they were almost unbearable. She started running down the trail, knowing where she was without the need for sight. She ignored the turn back to the entrance and followed the wide sweeping turn to the right. She ignored the left turn to the back entrance and went to the clubhouse. She was running faster now, not sure why she was doing so but wanting to move faster still. Her feet fetched against something she wasn’t expecting and she flew forward, landing on her stomach. Samantha felt the hot sting of bamboo cut her arms and upper chest, but she got up and looked back quickly to see what she tripped on. The granite rock her Grandpa had given her was there, barely visible in the dark moonlight filtering through the open roof of the clubhouse. Starting to weep, she ran out the clubhouse and down the trail again, beyond the pond and to the base of the oak tree. In seconds she was sitting on the planks in the tree, watching the various movements at the Wilson’s house and behind her own. Two more cops had arrived and Samantha could see them being led to the bamboo by her Grandpa. Through the kitchen window she could see her parents talking together, glancing out the back window occasionally. Between her house and the Wilson’s she could see through a window where Mrs. Wilson was sitting in a chair, rocking back and forth while Mr. Wilson paced around in circles.

  The weeping became crying and she broke down completely, wrapping her arms around her knees in a helpless gesture, no self-control left in her limbs. Samantha cried so long she had no concept of time passing. All she knew was that she could not face any of the people she could see below her. All she could think of was the unknown location of her friend Mark and her own failings during the afternoon and evening.