Lights Out

The scream echoes into the neighboring houses. An equally horrifying silence follows. A silence brought on by ear drum damage or the need for silence after such a loud decibel has been reached.

"It's okay." I soothe. "The power just went out. We’ll be fine."

"But... my show," sobs Donna, my seventeen year old.

"I think you'll survive," I answer back.

"Honey?" my beloved of 20 years shouts from the floor above,"Everyone okay?"

"Yes dear. You have Charlie?" I ask about our ten year old.

No answer starts to move fear towards the front of my brain. "Charlie?" I ask up the stairs managing to stay a couple volumes below yelling.

I hear movement but no words. I could brave the stairs but I have no light nearby and as someone who often trips in full light, I choose to let my husband handle this search.

"Got him!" He shouts as I exhale and take my foot off the first stair. Father and son start descending down the stairs by means of cellphone flashlight.

"Didn't you hear us call?" I ask. As soon as I pose the question I realize the ridiculousness of it. Charlie is sporting two wireless headphones as he descends down the stairs paying equal attention to his phone and where his foot should land next.

Finally, everyone together in the same room. Charlie is still watching a video about a video game he's been playing. Donna is likely texting her friends or boyfriend or tweeting about the awful calamity she is now enduring.

"What now?" my loving, but unable to respond in high stress situations, other half affectionately asks.

I scan the faces around the room and state, "I have an idea." If my husband was a dog I swear his tail would currently be wagging as he waits for me to continue. I move in front of my screen-attached offsprings. "Hey!" I shout.

"What?" Donna yells back.

I stand in front of Charlie, leaning close enough for him to shift his focus to my face being illuminated only by his phone screen,"Yeah?” he asks.

"We are going camping!" I announce. Moans follow from the two youngest. Before words of rebuttal can be spoken, I continue, “No complaints or discussion. Babe, you go upstairs and get the camping stuff. Kids, grab pillows and blankets. I’ll get snacks.” After no movement follows, I finalize my orders, “Now!” 

Shuffles led by cell phone lights scurry across the house with a shocking lack of complains and whispers as supplies start being collected. I grab the large basket that typically holds blankets and started collecting various junk food snack. After successfully filling half the basket, I head outside.

Tent was already set up and pillow and blankets were getting pulled inside by Donna. It was thankfully a fairly warm summer night which made the blankets unnecessary for survival but ideal for comfort. I look inside the tent, expecting to find Charlie. 

“Where’s Charlie?” I ask. 

“Maybe still in the house,” my beloved responds. 

I drop the basket outside the tent, greedy hands start inspecting the contents. I take out my phone again, turn on the flashlight and head back into the house. Scanning each floor fills me with slightly more panic. My quiet, sneaky ten year old is no where. Although irrational, I start searching cupboards and bathroom cabinets. I then check tiny spaces under the beds and between shelves and walls. my cell phone providing enough light for me to see where I am, but not enough for me to comfortably be able to exclude any option. 

I can’t handle staring at every empty corner anymore. I run out the front door and started yelling his name. Silence. I ran back through the house to the tent. “Found him?” Donna asks. I shake my head as tears started to move down each side of my face. 

“I’ll go look,” my significant other announces. 

I let myself be led into the tent by Donna; she put a blanket around my shoulders and assured me that he’s probably hiding in the house. I nod my head attempting to believe in the words she just graced me with. 

I know she is wrong. 

I know I should call the police and file a missing person’s report. 

I know they’ll tell me to wait 24 hours. 

But, I should call anyway. 

Donna hands me a sleeve of Oreos. I start absentmindedly eating in slow progression. 

As my hand feels the bottom of the plastic I know I have eaten each of the Oreos I had been provided. I look up at Donna who’s reading a book by a camping light. “Where are they?” I ask. 

“Hmm?” Donna finishes her page and looks up at me. “What?”

“Where are your brother and father?” 

“Oh” Donna looks around, “I guess they’re still in the house.” 

“This is getting absurd.” I brush off numerous amounts of Oreo crumbs and stand up to leave the tent, “Stay here.” Donna, already back to her book, didn’t seem to notice my departure. 

I walk towards the house with a head full of determination and a heart filled with dread. My cellphone light seems to be getting dimmer and narrower each time I enter back into the house. I circle each room, calling for them. I illuminate as many corners as possible. But ultimately, I come up empty. I leave the house again to return to the tent. 

“Where on earth could—“ my words stop as I step into the tent, “Donna?” The light is on and the book is still open, but she is missing. I hadn’t heard her enter the house behind me, but would I have in the depths of my search? 

I step again out of the tent, scanning the dark landscape for any moving shadows, instead I feel the darkness slowly moving towards me. 

I fear if I search the house again, I will encounter a truth I am not ready to confront. I instead zipper up the door, wrap a blanket around me and lay my head on a pillow.

They’ll be back when the lights return. Donna will be on the couch watching her show. Charlie will be upstairs watching his videos. My husband will be in the office looking through paperwork. I will return to the house; they will be waiting for me. 

I will see them, once the lights return.