"He also checked the old fire road drainage too. Said runoff was pooling in a way that could wash out part of the shoulder if we get more rain. Public works is sending someone to reinforce it."
My fingers tightened slightly around the pen.
"Oh, and he dropped off a fresh set of hazard tape and replaced the cracked casing on one of the trailhead radios. Said you rely on that one when you're out solo." He nodded toward the equipment shelf. "Binocular strap's fixed too. He noticed the stitching was going."
I gave a small nod, wondering why he would do all of that. Was it guilt? Pity? Either way, the thought didn't settle right. He used to do things like that for me, and they used to make me feel... so happy and giddy. Now, though, it rose in my chest like a tight ball in my throat that made it hard to swallow.
The radio on my desk crackled to life, sharp and immediate.
"Ranger unit, copy a missing child report. Approximately six years old. Separated from family near Ridge Trail. Initial search underway."
I clipped my radio to my vest and gathered my field notebook, gloves, and jacket from the hook by the door. I nodded to my coworker and we headed toward the station together.
"Update. Child has been located by a civilian hiker and transported to the local police station. Rangers requested for environmental assessment and incident documentation."
We stepped inside the police station, and an officer at the front desk spotted the ranger patch on my shoulder and waved us through.
"Found him about a mile off the marked trail," she said as we walked. "The guy who brought him in said the kid was scared but responsive. No obvious injuries."
Two officers approached us.
"You're the responding ranger?" one asked.
I nodded.
"Good. We just need confirmation of where he was found and a quick check for exposure. Parents are on their way."
I wrote:Temperature? Time found?
"Found about thirty minutes ago," the officer replied. "No shivering now. He was cold earlier."
The officer beside me continued, "We'll handle family reunification. You just document terrain and risk factors?"
I nodded and wrote:Exact location found?
"About a mile east of Ridge Trail," he said.
Near the waiting area, I spotted the boy, pressed against a familiar tall man with a head of loose curls, small fists clutching the front of his jacket. Tear streaks ran down his dusty cheeks, but he was laughing too. Bramwell.
"You see," Bramwell said, lowering his voice into a mock-serious whisper, "even the bravest explorers need someone steady nearby. And when they do, the world becomes a little less scary." He glanced at the boy, eyes wide, and then flopped dramatically onto one knee, hands clasped like a stage actor, "Take, for example, the Great Crystal Caper of Mount Granite."
The boy blinked, eyes wide, leaning a little closer, still clinging to Bramwell's arm.
"I know what you're thinking," Bramwell continued, bouncing slightly on the balls of his feet, hands waving like a conductor."A crystal? Really? Who cares about a rock?" He wagged a finger at the boy, then spun in a tiny circle for emphasis. "Not just any rock. This crystal could explode if touched incorrectly! Only the bravest geologist could survive the slithering mudslides—"
He slid across the floor in a low crouch, arms flailing, "—the cranky mountain goats with surprisingly sharp hooves!" He made a high-pitched goat bleat that had the boy's eyes widening further. "And the avalanche of—" He leaned back, hands above his head, "—angry pebbles that would pelt you like a thousand tiny ninja warriors!"
The boy started giggling.
"But our hero, Sir Pebblefinder," Bramwell said, pointing to an imaginary crown on his head, "never panicked. Not even when a rogue squirrel tried to steal the crystal to sell it in the underground squirrel black market. And you know what? No judging! Squirrels have bills to pay too."
He whispered conspiratorially, "And that's why he had a very wise, very quiet ranger as a sidekick. She knew every rock, every tree, every suspiciously staring chipmunk, and probably which berries were safe to snack on without explosive consequences."
I smiled.
The boy snorted, a half-laugh, half-gasp, and Bramwell's grin widened. He bounced up on his heels, hands on his knees, leaning close like he was about to reveal a secret. "But wait! There's more!" He grabbed a small imaginary rope and tugged, adding a comical squeak. "The crystal was enchanted! You could only touch it if you told a joke while doing it. Otherwise..." He threw his hands to his cheeks, eyes wide, spinning slightly fordramatic effect, "...it would giggle at you! Yes, giggle! And then it would fling itself right back up the mountain! Boing! Whoosh! Off it goes! And don't even think about rolling your eyes at it, because the crystal will judge you."
The boy laughed fully now, letting go of Bramwell's shirt to clap his tiny hands.
