“Are you having a good time?” April asked Owen.
“Yeah!” he said, his face still sticky with jam. “I want to go on the rides again.”
“In a bit,” Cal said. “Let’s tone it down for a few minutes. Your dad’s getting tired.”
Owen rolled his eyes. “You’re too old.”
Cal glared back playfully. “And you’re too young.”
They finished their lunch and walked together toward the game booths. Owen chose one that required him to throw a ball at smallish targets in order to win one of several tiers of prizes. April didn’t hold out much hope that he would win anything. But she supposed it was good for a kid to learn how to lose either way, and losing hadn’t really bothered him yet.
The man running the booth was quite generous with the kid, giving him several extra opportunities to win. When Owen failed to win a toy from even the bottom tier, the man suggested that Owen should let his father win one for him. Cal reluctantly agreed.
The bottom tier of toys was mostly plastic figurines. There wasn’t anything Owen found particularly tempting. Further up, things got a little more interesting. There were board games, posters, fake swords, and stuffed animals. At the top tier was a row of stuffed animals so huge, April was convinced Owen would not have been able to carry one home even if he had actually won it. They were almost the same size as the boy himself. But, of course, those were exactly the stuffed animals Owen wanted to win. Nothing else would satisfy him. Despite his general disinterest in stuffed animals, one huge octopus was suddenly at the top of his wish list.
“Pleeeeaaaase,” he begged, pointing at the top shelf. “That one. Win that one.”
April thought the only reason Owen wanted such a thing was because the size of it impressed him, not because he had any interest in stuffed animals or deep-sea creatures. But she also supposed it didn’t matter why he wanted it. Cal would win it for him no matter what. And what harm would it do to spoil the boy this once?
Owen watched excitedly as his father threw the ball on his behalf. It took a few more turns than either April or Cal thought it would to win the thing, but Cal kept trying. His frustration mounted the more he lost, though he hid it rather well. The moment was so memorable, April thought it was appropriate to photograph it.
She took out her camera and looked through the viewfinder to get a good shot. Then Cal turned around, and the look on his face was so horrified, April lowered her camera without having gotten a single shot.
“Where’s Owen?” Cal asked.
“Right here,” April answered, turning to gesture to the spot she’d last seen him. But Owen wasn’t there. “He was right here,” she repeated in disbelief.
Her heart started to pound as Cal dropped everything and began looking for Owen. He circled the booth, calling for Owen to no avail. The panic on his face was something April had never seen before, and she’d seen a lot of parents worried for their children in her line of work. Cal didn’t look like a parent searching for a child who had wandered off in a friendly crowd. He looked like a parent whose child had wandered off the edge of a cliff.
“I’m sure he’s fine,” April said.
Cal didn’t even respond. He was beside himself, scared beyond reason. He started for the rides, still calling for Owen.
“Keep looking,” April said, as though there was anything else he would have done. “I’m going to ask the ticket booth.” She had the thought that someone might have found him and taken him to the ticket booth to find his parents. She half ran, half walked to the front of the fairgrounds, not wanting to seem panicked but feeling that way all the same. When she arrived she ran to the front of the line, much to the irritation of everyone there. But she didn’t care. “I’m looking for a boy, blond hair, about five. Has anyone brought him here?”
The person manning the ticket booth shook his head. “Sorry. Haven’t seen him.”
“If you do, keep him here, will you? His dad is looking for him.”
“Will do,” the ticket-taker said.
Satisfied that she’d done all she could there, April made her way back into the midst of the crowd. And she did the one thing she knew Cal would not think to do. She started asking for help. Every stranger she passed got to hear a description of Owen. “He’s about this tall,” she said, holding her hand where his head would normally be. “He’s really sweet. Have you seen him?”
“No,” said the most recent stranger she’d asked. “But I’ll keep an eye out.”
“If you find him, can you bring him to the ticket booth? I’m going to check back there again in a bit.”
“Sure thing.”
“Thank you so much.” One thing April knew about Summit Falls was that the people here would rally together in a crisis. Thatwas the problem with total isolation. People needed each other. Especially in a tight-knit community like this, she knew people would help.
She had asked close to twenty people whether they’d seen Owen at this point. No one had seen him yet, but the thing she knew that Cal didn’t was all of them were now looking for Owen, and they were asking others to look for him, too. Eventually, someone she hadn’t asked ran up to her. “Hey, are you the lady looking for the kid?”
“Yeah! Did you find him?”
“He’s in the sandpit,” the stranger said. “He’s playing with other kids there. I don’t think he even knows he’s lost.”
“Oh, that’s wonderful. Thank you so much!” April said.
