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I see her through the sheen of tears.
“I c-can’t find Art. I can’t…” I wheeze. “I can’t find him. Oh my God, I’ve lost him, Tina. I’ve lost him.”
“Okay, calm down. Relax. We’re gonna look for him together. He must be somewhere around here,” Tina says.
I nod. “O-okay.”
Then a long shadow approaches us and my focus shifts.
It’s Zach. He’s striding over, his steps long and determined.
I don’t know what happens to me but I let go of Tina and my legs start moving. I run toward him, like I ran yesterday when he ruined my date.
I almost smash into him but he stops me, steadies me with his hands and stares at me with a frown. “What happened?”
I clutch his wrists. “Doris, one of the maids, s-she has a grandkid, Art. I was supposed to watch him. I-I always watch him. He was playing outside and I was keeping an eye on him but then I forgot because I had to… I had to make cupcakes for his bake sale. And when I went to find him he wasn’t there. I d-don’t know where he went, Zach. I think I lost him. I don’t –”
He squeezes my biceps. “Hey, he’s okay. He’s fine. I’ll find him.”
I look at his face, all focused and harsh. And he’s leaning over me with his entire body. He’s hiding the sun behind his massive shoulders and corded back.
And I know why I ran to him just now.
Zach is big and strong and… and he’s capable. He knows this place. I know he’ll find Art.
I know it.
“He’s a good kid. He’s just so small and tiny and what if he’s hurt? I don’t… He just vanished. How can he vanish, Zach?”
He stiffens at my words, his fingers becoming rigid on my flesh. Before I can ask him what’s going on, he lets me go and takes off running toward the woods.
I follow.
It’s hard to keep up with him. My feet are screaming with pain and his strides are long. But I keep going. I think Tina’s behind me, but I can’t be sure.
We go deep into the woods, deeper than ever, before Zach comes to a stop and kneels on the ground.
Here, the ground is covered with dead, dried leaves and the trees form a canopy up above. There’s very little sunlight and everything is colder.
I don’t like it.
As I get closer to Zach, I realize he’s looking down at something.
It’s a hole in the ground.
I fall on my knees beside him, the leaves crunching beneath my knees. But I don’t care about that because it’s a ten-foot drop and Art is at the bottom of it.
“Art!” I scream, almost toppling in myself.
But Zach pulls me from the edge, with his arms around my waist.
“No, no, no. I have to go get him. It’s my fault. I wasn’t doing my job. I’ve got to –”
He squeezes my waist, kneeling beside me. “No, I’ll go get him.”
I fist his t-shirt. “Why isn’t he moving? Tell me why he’s not moving.”
Zach frames my face with his hands and applies pressure, making me look at him. “Because he’s unconscious. It’s a high drop. He’s fine.”
“B-but –”
“He’s breathing, Blue. I checked.”
My watery eyes run over his face. Frantically. Crazily. Like I can’t get enough of his sharp, angled features. Like I’ll never get enough.
“J-just bring him back. Please,” I whisper, water clogging my eyes and my throat.
His nostrils flare as he studies my features, and he nods. “You stay where you are.”
I nod back.
He lets me go, and gets to work.
His hands pat the ground, as if looking for something under the leaves. A few pats later, he finds it.
It’s a long thick root, buried under the fallen foliage, connected to a huge tree that I didn’t even notice until now. The root is thick and sturdy and looks to be going down into the hole.
As Zach grips it, probably trying to use it as a rope, I hear thudding footsteps approaching.
Tina’s kneeling beside me. “Are you okay? Did we find him?”
“Yeah. He’s in there.” I motion with my chin.
Zach turns his focus on Tina. “I want you to go and get me a rope. And bring a staff member back with you.”
Nodding, Tina squeezes my shoulders. “I’ll be right back.”
With that, she whirls around and runs back.
Using the root, Zach lowers himself into the hole, and I crawl over to the edge, looking down. Art’s still unconscious and my body starts shaking.
Oh God.
How did I fuck up so bad? I’m never babysitting him again. Ever.
But then, I watch Art’s tiny chest move. Up and down. In a rhythm.
He’s breathing.
Thank God.
Just like Zach said.
Who’s almost at the end of the hanging, sturdy root, which only goes down midway. Before I can stop myself, I call out, “Be careful.”
Zach looks up at my words and I bite my lip.
