The Lost Boy

“How about this one?” Mary holds up a ruby red apple, the skin covered in golden speckles and small patches of green.

“No,” I place the apples in my hands into our basket, the wood catching on my gloves as I do so. “It’s not red enough yet.”

Mary rolls her eyes and chucks it into the basket anyways. “You said that about the last ten I picked. There’s nothing wrong with them!” She turns away from me, her short curls bobbing in the breeze. “Not everything can be perfect you know, Alice.”

“Apple’s can.” I turn back to the stout tree in front of me, pushing aside it’s waving branches in the hunt for more apples. “And that one isn’t.”

Mary mutters something under her breath and we both lapse into silence for a few moments. 

I continue further down the grove, allowing myself to get lost in the leaves and the apples, all red and golden. Even the sun, starting to sink on the horizon, is made up of reds and golds.

I lean into a sharp breeze and let it weave through my hair and into the threads of my thick scarf, welcoming the cold. The breeze carries that faint smell of lentil soup and a crackling fire, coming from home. 

But home can’t be home anymore. Not after--

“It wasn’t your fault, y’know.” Mary is suddenly beside me, her arms full of the baskets of apples. “You couldn’t have stopped him.”

“Yes I could have.” I refuse to meet Mary’s eyes, my own filling with tears. “Jamie’s gone, and pretending that his disappearance wasn’t my fault is pointless.” I shake my head, intently staring at the clouds, the colourful trees, and the sunset, as if that will stop this moment from being real. As if it will stop the words that are tumbling from my lips. “Mom blames me, and so does Dad. And I know, Mary, that deep down, you blame me too.”

I don’t give her the chance to respond before I grab one of the baskets, and start towards a new row of trees that we haven’t taken from.

I stop a few rows away from the one where I left Mary, and study the apples in front of me. My gloved hands shake as I start taking apples at random, not paying attention as to whether they’re ripe or not. The red and green flesh mixes together through the tears still gathering in my eyes.

I let the apples all fall into the basket, the top of it starting to fill up, when I hear crunching from behind me.

Mary reaches my side once again, but doesn’t say anything more. We continue to pluck apples until both baskets are full, and I’m thankful that Mary hasn’t yet pointed out the semi green ones.

“This should be enough.” Mary says after a few moments, bending to pick up both the baskets. The sun glides over her figure and for a brief moment I can see the tear tracks on her face. 

But then the moment snaps and she turns away; starts heading back towards the house.

They’re tears that I caused.

Me.

I'm the reason for them.

If the swelling ache in my throat, in my chest, hadn’t been hurting ever since that night nearly a full month ago, it’s definitely starting to hurt now.

I follow Mary back to the house, but make sure to keep my distance. I watch her form become smaller and smaller until I watch it enter our cottage front doors. 

I could, of course, just stay out here instead, with the bright leaves and chill wind. The trees whisper behind me, as if urging me to stay and eat apples for dinner instead of soup.

I do know, after all, what waits for me at the dinner table. It’s the same thing that’s been waiting for me at the dinner table these past few weeks. 

It always starts the same way. Our new family of four will sit down and at first no one will talk. We’ll simply sit in silence and eat whatever Mom has made for us. Then the tears will start. That always comes from Mom too. She’ll reminisce for a few moments about Jamie, and how much he would love the food, or how he’d be ranting at the dinner table about some lesson he’s learned at school. 

Then comes the blame.

It’s not a verbal kind of one, as the table will lapse back into silence, but I can feel it from Mom’s rigid shape. From Dad’s accusing gaze turned on me. From Mary’s attempt at light hearted jokes or half forced cheer. 

  Then we each leave the table and go our separate ways. Mom to the dining room to put the finishing touches on her newly printed missing posters, Dad to the sofa to watch a mind numbing episode of some dumb show, and Mary to her room to do whatever she does.

I go to the forest, and it’s more than once that I’ve felt the urge to stay there overnight, rather than face the three people’s love that I’ve lost. And the fourth…

As much as I play that night over and over again in my head I can’t make any sense of it’s events.

Jamie was there one moment, then gone the next. I was watching him, since Mary was at a friends house and Mom and Dad both had to work late. We were watching a movie, one of those really old ones that you have the plot memorized for, but love and will watch again and again anyways. I had left for one minute. One single moment. Sixty seconds. Sixty damn seconds…

He was gone.

I had come back from the kitchen with Jamie’s requested glass of iced tea, only to find that he was no longer on the sofa. And he wasn’t in his room or the kitchen or the backyard or anywhere else that I had scoured. He had just...disappeared.

Gone like a shadow in the face of the rising dawn.

And since then we had put up every missing person’s poster our town would allow, we had contacted the police over and over again for help, and we had organized countless search parties, each one involving more people than the last. But nothing. 

Jamie is gone.

And it’s because of me. 

****

The leaves are just starting to change colours as I push them aside, stepping into our apple grove. 

I scan this row and the one after it, but still no sign of Jamie. We’ve been playing at this for over half an hour, and if we come home with an empty basket Mom just might have a fit.

“Jamie?” I step back through the row of trees I initially came from, leaning into the early autumn breeze. “Jamie?!”

A soft high pitched laugh comes from my right and I spot him--his red curls stark against the emerald of the grass, his bright yellow shirt even more so.

And lucky for me he’s facing the other way.

Careful that my feet don’t make a sound on the soft grass, I move closer to his backside. He’s crouched, craning his head around looking for me, oblivious to my smirk and reaching hands right behind him.

“BOO!” I wrap my arms around Jamie’s shoulders and pull him to my chest.

He shrieks in delight and mock fear as I press a kiss to his temple and squeeze him tight.

“Aliceee!” He crosses his tiny arms against his chest and pouts. “You found me too quickly!”

“And you didn’t find enough apples.” I gesture to our half empty basket. “Come on. Dinner will be ready soon.”

“Can we play one more time?” He takes my outstretched hand as I haul him to his feet. “Just once! Please?”

I look away from his pout. If I continue studying his face I know I’ll cave in. “No.” I shake my head, ignoring the tugging at my arm. “We have to go back now.”

“Home is boring. And I’m not hungry!”

“Not even if I entice you with this delicious apple?” I pull one off a branch and toss it in the air, offering it to him. He shakes his head, his curls dancing in the breeze, so I drop it into the basket. “Alright fine.”

I scoop up the basket and brush by him. “You can stay out here with the woodland creatures and the faeries, and when they gobble you up I’ll tell Mom and Dad and Mary that you would rather eat with them than your own family!” 

I hear Jamie’s giggle from behind, before I hear his tiny feet running to catch up. “What faeries? They don’t exist.”

“Well of course you would think that.” I take his hand into my own and we start out of the apple grove. “But that’s only because faeries show up to eat unsuspecting people who wander through the forest. Have you ever heard of little tree spirits?”

“No.” Jamie’s practically bouncing on his feet. “What do they do?”

“Well.” I press my lips into a line so Jamie can’t see my smile. “And you didn’t hear this from me, okay?”

“Mhm.” Jamie makes a motion like zipping his mouth closed.

“The tree spirits are those people that have escaped from the faeries.” I lower my voice to a loud whisper. “And they supposedly ward off all others who stray too far from the path of the forest. You see, they’re like the guardians, so if you ever become lost don’t worry.” I grin. “They’ll protect you.”

“But how do you know?” Jamie’s face is awash in the glow of the sunset, and the light from our house as we get closer. 

“Because.” I pick up our pace. “They’ve told me themselves.”

“What were they like?” Jamie asks, his eyes full of that pretending awe.

I know he doesn’t truly believe me, I don’t even believe me, but it’s nice to wonder sometimes. To believe in something beyond the ordinary.

We reach the front doors and I can hear Mary’s approaching footsteps from behind the wood. “Magnificent and tall, with a funny looking face. It wasn’t as funny as yours though.”

“Hey!” He lightly pushes my arm.

I chuckle as the door clicks open.

“Alice!” Mary is walking out of it, but she’s walking towards me. “Alice!” Her voice is more frantic, until the front porch, Jamie, and the sunset disappear.

“Alice!”

****

There’s something warm around my arms, shaking me.

“Alice! Alice wake up you idiot!” 

I snap my eyes open, only to meet Mary’s dark ones. They’re filled with tears.

“...Mary?” Something hard is digging into my back I realize as the world fills in around me.

It’s no longer the world of memories and dreams, but the harsh one of reality. The very dark one, where I can see the stars glittering in the sky.

“What happened to you?” Mary’s face is a combination of worry, fear, and a bright hot anger as she hauls me upright.

I blink at her, then reach out a hand to steady myself. My fingers find tree bark beneath the woolen scratchiness of my gloves, and the cold air bites into my cheeks, my legs, my arms, as I force myself to meet Mary’s gaze.

There’s a sliver of sun behind her, winking out, and beyond that, the lights of our far off neighbour’s houses, hidden beneath the colourful leaves of trees.

I must have fallen asleep. 

I remember it now, sitting down against a tree and having apples for dinner instead of Mom’s soup, which probably explains the dull lingering hunger in my belly, and the stiffness of my back and neck.

“I’m sorry--”

“No.” Mary throws her arms around me and I nearly stumble beneath her weight, even though we’re about the same height. “I’m sorry. Mom’s sorry. Dad’s sorry.” She presses her cheek against my own. “We’ve made it hell for you since Jamie disappeared, and it’s not fair.” She pulls away, sniffling.

I’m too shocked to do anything, to say anything, so I stand there, mouth gaping open as I shiver against the breeze. Mary takes it as an invitation to continue,

“You’ve searched just as hard as the rest of us, if not harder. And leaving a ten year old kid to his own devices for less than five seconds is an understandable thing to do. We’ve left him alone for longer. Even though this time was different, it wasn’t your fault.” She scrubs at her face. “Alice...I’m...I’m so sorry.”

I nod, too numb to talk. In the month that Jamie’s been gone she’s never said the words to me. I hadn’t expected her to of course, because why should I? And her tears…

I’ve never seen Mary cry. Once or twice here and there, but not this...this full on sobbing.

“And when I reached the front porch and you weren’t behind me I was so scared Alice. We searched the rows of apple trees, but you weren’t in any of them.”

I vaguely remember wandering into the forest and then getting tired...

“And then I came to search the woods. I thought you were taken from us too. I lost a brother,” She hiccups. “I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if I lost a sister too.”

Suddenly it’s hard for me to get down breath, to try and swallow the lump in my throat, as I feel myself on the verge of breaking. 

My arms are around Mary before I can think of anything else, and the tears are streaming down my cheeks too now as I brush aside her hair. “You won’t lose me.” She shudders against my body as I squeeze tight. “Not now. Not ever.”

“They still love you y’know.” Mary whispers after a beat, her arms still around my back. “We all do. And I’m talking on behalf of all of us when I say I’m sorry. When I say that losing Jamie is,” She swallows hard. “But losing you too would be even worse.”

I let a few more tears slip past my eyes before I urge them to stop entirely. There’s been too many of them these days. Too many silent glares and too much icy tension between all of us. How can we expect to find the lost member of our family when we can’t even handle being around each other?

No more. I make a mental note to give Mom and Dad the longest hug they’ll allow when we get back.

“Yeah.” I squeeze one final time. “It would be super bad. How would you be able to handle anything without me?”

“Oh shut up.” She pulls away and half laughs, even though the sound is warbled. “Let’s just go home.”

“Good.” I stretch my back, cringing when I hear multiple cracks. “I’m starving.”

We turn back towards our home in the distance, shining with light, and Mary wraps an arm around me.

A sharp crack startles us both, and when we turn my stomach drops. Mary’s sharp intake of breath from beside me confirms what we’re both seeing.

And as the figure moves closer, stepping into a bright patch of moonlight, tears once again jump into my eyes. But even with the water blurring my vision I would be able to recognize that face anywhere.

Jamie.