Buttons

“I’m home!” the man called out as he stepped inside, kicking off his shoes at the door.

“Hi, honey. How was your day?” his wife asked, appearing a minute later.

“It was a day,” he sighed. “But I’m home now, and that’s what matters.”

A soft sobbing echoed from down the hall.

“Is something wrong with her?” the man asked, his brow furrowing as he headed toward the girl’s room.

He knocked gently before pushing the door open, finding his daughter lying in bed, pretending to sleep while muffling her tears.

“Hey, sweetie,” he said softly, sitting beside her. “What’s wrong?”

“She and some of the other kids went exploring in the woods today, and she lost something,” his wife explained, standing in the doorway.

“What did you lose?” he asked, brushing a strand of hair from the girl’s tear-streaked face.

The girl didn’t answer, her lip trembling. She simply pointed to the empty spot on the bed where her beloved stuffed bear usually sat.

“Oh… and do you know where you lost him?” the man asked gently.

She nodded, then gestured toward her mother.

“They were at the creek, playing near that old fort you built when you were kids,” his wife said. “She says the boys were teasing her and got it stuck in a tree.”

The man took a deep breath, leaning down to kiss his daughter on the forehead. “Don’t worry, sweetheart. I’ll go get him.”

As he stood, his wife followed him to the front door. “You’re not serious, right? It’s already dark, it’s in the forties outside, and they’re calling for rain.”

He sat on the small bench to put his shoes back on. “I’ll be fine. I’ll take the dog with me. Thirty minutes—an hour tops.”

Whistling for the dog, he grabbed a flashlight, checking the batteries. The German shepherd eagerly bounded toward the door but froze when a loud clap of thunder shook the house. The dog jumped onto the couch, burying his head in a pillow.

“Really, boy?” the man groaned. “Now’s not the time to be scared. We’ve got a bear to rescue.”

“I think the dog has the right idea,” his wife said, arms crossed. “You shouldn’t go out there tonight.”

He opened the door, feeling the cold wind whip against his face. “I’ll be fine, promise.”

With the flashlight on, he whistled again for the dog and stepped into the stormy night.

Lightning flashed in the distance as the man made his way to the tree line. "Let’s make this quick, boy."

The wind howled, gusting in violent bursts that made the trees creak ominously. He trudged forward, rain pelting his face, making it difficult to see beyond the narrow beam of his flashlight. Each step was a struggle as the muddy ground sucked at his boots, threatening to pull him down with every movement.

The further he walked, the more the storm seemed to intensify. Wind-driven branches lashed out at him like claws, and the roar of the storm drowned out any sound but his own ragged breathing and the occasional bark of thunder. The dog stayed close, his ears flat against his head, his once eager stride now cautious and wary.

Suddenly, the man heard a loud crack—a tree limb snapping somewhere ahead. His heart raced. He froze, sweeping the flashlight beam across the dense forest. The rain distorted everything, but for a split second, he thought he saw movement—something large—just beyond the reach of the light.

Was it the wind? An animal?

"Come on, boy," he whispered, gripping the dog’s collar, urging him forward. They pressed on, the path growing narrower and more treacherous by the second.

Just as the fort came into view, a gust of wind slammed into them with the force of a freight train. The man stumbled, nearly losing his footing as the rain cascaded down in sheets.

"Almost there," he muttered through clenched teeth.

The fort stood crooked and battered by the years, but it was a welcome sight. He ducked inside, the roof barely offering protection, but at least it cut the wind.

“Let’s find that bear and get out of here,” he said, scanning the area with his flashlight.

There it was—caught in a low-hanging tree branch just out of reach, soaked from the rain. It was only about twelve feet up, but in this weather, that felt like a hundred.

“I’ve got to climb,” the man muttered.

He bit down on the flashlight, gripped the slick tree bark, and hoisted himself up. His muscles strained as he fought for balance, the relentless wind battering him from all sides. The branch beneath him groaned, bending under his weight as he inched closer to the stuffed animal.

Lightning split the sky again, closer this time, followed by a deafening crack of thunder that made the tree shudder. Just as the man reached for the bear, the branch gave a sharp crack and snapped.

He tumbled, hitting the ground hard, face-first into a puddle.

Gasping for breath, he rolled onto his back, pain shooting through his leg. He looked down and saw a jagged tear in his pants where the branch had gouged his leg.

Before he could react, he felt the dog tugging at his coat, dragging him out of the puddle. The loyal dog pulled him to the shelter of the fort, then trotted back to the tree and retrieved the soggy stuffed bear.

“Good boy,” the man rasped, patting the dog on the head.

Struggling to his feet, he winced as the pain in his leg flared again. He was bleeding badly, but there was no time to worry about it now. The storm wasn’t letting up, and he had to get home.

“Alright, let’s go,” he said, limping toward the path.

But the moment he stepped outside, the wind roared like a wild animal, ripping the roof off the fort and hurling it into the woods. He shielded his face as debris flew past, and the rain came down even harder.

“Come on, boy,” he called, pushing forward despite the pain. They reached the bottom of the hill, only to find it had turned into a muddy waterfall. The path they’d taken was now a river of water and mud.

He cursed under his breath, scanning for another way up. His eyes locked on a large, fallen tree that bridged part of the slope. It was their only chance.

“Follow me,” the man said, gritting his teeth as he climbed onto the tree trunk. The bark was slick, and the wind tried to knock him off with every step, but he pressed on, the dog close behind.

The roots of the tree loomed ahead, massive and twisted, blocking their path like a wall. The man scrambled over them, ignoring the pain in his leg as he pulled himself up. The dog whined, struggling to follow.

“Hold on, boy,” he grunted, grabbing the dog’s collar and helping him over the roots.

With one last push, they made it to the top of the hill. The house was in sight, glowing faintly through the storm.

He forced himself forward, every step a battle. His leg screamed with pain, and the wind howled in his ears, but he didn’t stop. Not until they reached home.

The front door swung open as they approached. The dog darted inside, dropping the stuffed bear at his wife’s feet. She picked it up, tears in her eyes, as the man stumbled through the doorway and collapsed onto the floor.

“You stupid man,” his wife whispered, her voice shaking. “You had me worried half to death.”

“Sorry,” he muttered, wincing as he adjusted his leg. “The storm was worse than I thought.”

As he shifted, the light caught the gash on his leg. His wife’s eyes widened as she saw the deep wound, blood seeping through his torn pants. Without a word, she turned and hurried to grab the first aid kit.

“We could’ve replaced the bear,” she said over her shoulder, her voice soft but firm as she rummaged through the cabinet.

“With what?” the man snapped, his frustration spilling out. “I can barely keep food on the table, let alone buy new toys.”

She returned, kneeling beside him with the kit. “It’s just a bear,” she said again, though her hands trembled as she cleaned the wound.

“To you, maybe,” he shot back. “But to her? It’s everything. It’s what makes her smile every day. I can’t buy her pretty dresses or take her on fancy trips like other dads do. Hell, I can barely read well enough to help her with homework. But I’m her dad. And if the only thing I can give her is keeping her best friend from getting lost forever, then I’ll do it.”

His wife dabbed at the gash, her eyes flicking up to meet his. She didn’t say anything as he added, his voice thick with emotion, “I won’t sit by and watch her heart break when there’s something I can do to stop it.”

For a moment, neither of them spoke. She carefully wrapped the bandage around his leg, her touch gentle and precise. Her expression softened as she worked, the tension between them easing.

“I’m going to wash the bear,” she finally said, rising to her feet. “I’m not giving it to her like this.”

He nodded, watching as she disappeared down the hall toward the washroom. He sighed, leaning back against the wall, when out of the corner of his eye, he noticed a small figure standing in the hallway.

The girl.

She stood there quietly, her eyes wide and tired, watching her father. He smiled softly, his voice gentle as he spoke.

“Buttons is back,” he said, “Mom’s giving him a bath right now. He had quite the adventure.”

The girl didn’t say a word. Her face was still, her lips pressed together. Instead of smiling, she stepped forward, her small feet padding softly across the floor. She leaned down and kissed the only clean spot she could find on her father’s forehead, her warm touch sending a wave of comfort through him.

The man felt his heart swell. He wrapped an arm around her as she climbed onto the couch and curled up, exhaustion finally winning over her worry. When his wife returned, she found the girl fast asleep on the couch, her little body tucked against the cushions, while the man fell asleep on the floor beside her, resting against the couch.

The woman stood there for a moment, holding the freshly cleaned bear in her hands, watching the peaceful scene. She smiled softly and set Buttons down beside her sleeping daughter, a quiet sigh of relief escaping her lips.

Decades later

“That happened more than fifty years ago,” the girl, now an older woman, said to the people gathered in the room. She reached down, picking up a small, worn bag and carefully pulling out a ball of cotton and cloth. Holding it up for everyone to see, she smiled softly.

“Buttons and I have been through thick and thin. He’s helped me get through more hard times than I can count.” Her voice trembled slightly. “It’s been years since Buttons has been out of this bag, and for good reason.” She gestured to the fragile, well-loved bundle in her hands.

“There’s only so many times you can sew and patch an old stuffed animal before it becomes unrepairable.”

Turning to face the casket behind her, the woman walked slowly toward it, clutching the ball of fluff. She gently placed it beside her father.

“I miss you,” she whispered. “I hate the thought of you going on this next journey alone, so I’m sending Buttons with you. I know the two of you can handle any storms that might come your way.”