Elephant in the Sky (13 page)

32

Nate

It's cold. Really, really cold. I can't stop my teeth from chattering and I don't know where I am or how I got here.

I'm so scared.

I keep hearing my name being called all around me. I think it is the monsters who won't leave me alone and they're going to hurt me really badly. I'm so scared I feel like I can't breathe. I don't know how to breathe.

It is really dark and I don't like the dark and the dark makes me more scared because the monsters like the dark and they are all around me. They are like shadows. Really scary shadows.

I'm so afraid.

It is really smelly and I'm beside a garbage can filled with rotten stink. I don't like it at all but I feel like if I climb into the stink the monsters will leave me alone because they won't like the smell either and then I will be saved and then I will be able to breathe again.

I walk towards the big stinky bin and trip over something but I don't know what made me trip and I hit the ground and both my hands instantly hurt because I hit something sharp. I think I am bleeding. I sit down and start to cry but then I force myself to keep going because I need to get into the big stinky bin so the elephant monsters will stop chasing me and I won't be scared anymore.

It's so dark but I feel a little ledge that I can use to climb. I keep climbing and think I might make it to the top but then I slip back to the ground.

I am crying because I am hurting and scared but I need to keep going. I need to get inside the big bin so the monsters will not get me.

I try again and finally make it to the top of the bin and fall inside. It is wet and slimy and stinks more than anything I've smelled before but I feel better because it is dark and quiet and the elephant is too huge to get in here and I feel safe.

I finally feel safe.

33

Ashley

I sipped at the bitter coffee Oliver had handed me. It was lukewarm and tasted burnt and old. I tried to ignore the fact that brewed coffee past its prime also hinted at a search that had been going on for far too long.

It was four o'clock in the morning. We still hadn't found Nate. And no other clues had come in since the anonymous tip from the pool hall. Police teams were out in full force, and Oliver was in the process of working with the sergeant, a man named Ross whom I hadn't yet met, to decide if we should leverage the media to help find Nate.

“Yes! Oliver,
yes
! Please … let's do whatever we can to help find him!” I noticed Oliver shoot Officer Matthews a pointed look, to which she responded by nodding her head and steering me clear of his conversation.

“Look, Ashley, we're okay with you staying here because we know you need to be here. But you have to let the search commander and his teams do their jobs, okay?” Her eyes searched mine.

“I know. Constable Matthews …” I responded.

“Hey, we're like old friends now. Please, call me Sarah.”

“Okay.”

“Why don't you come and sit down? Take a rest for a minute. I'll sit with you.”

I nodded and followed her to two chairs in a corner. I pulled my coat tighter around me to prevent myself from shivering in the chilly RV, and finished the black coffee. At least it had caffeine in it.

“It's a big decision. Whether to alert the media or not. We've got to make it soon if we're going to hit the morning news, but there can be negative consequences as well.”

“Like what?”

“Well, we think there's a good chance we'll find Nate. In the majority of cases similar to this one, the child is located quickly and unharmed.”

“You call this
quickly
?” I asked Sarah sarcastically. I regretted the clipped sound of my voice the minute I heard it.

But Sarah was understanding enough to be patient with my rudeness, and answered calmly, “Yes. If we find Nate soon, like we're hoping, and it turns out we didn't need media support, there are other things to consider.”

I stared at her. She wasn't making any sense. What could be more important than actually getting Nate home?

“Ashley,” Sarah began gently. “We think we're close. Given everything we know, we believe Nate is likely hiding somewhere, and we'll find him soon. Daylight is coming, and that will help us a great deal.”

“But why wouldn't we want extra help from the media? Just in case?”

“If Nate's absence is made public, everyone will know about it. And that could make reintegration hard for him. And for you, and the rest of your family. We don't know anything yet, but if it turns out that Nate does require medical treatments for mental health issues … well … then that information will likely be public too. You will lose control of what, and who, finds out very personal information about your son.”

“Are you saying I should be embarrassed? That I should be embarrassed about my son?” I asked her with a sharpness to my voice.
Or my father?
I thought to myself.
Should I be embarrassed about my bipol
ar father?

“No, Ashley.” Sarah shook her head. “I'm not saying that at all. But you and your family … you could have a long road ahead of you. Yes, we absolutely want to find Nate, and we're doing everything we can to find him as soon as possible. And we believe we will find him soon. But we also want to protect you from any unnecessary harm. It's a balance, and a delicate choice. One that Oliver won't make lightly. I've worked with him many times on different cases, and you should trust him. He's the right person to be running this search.”

I nodded. I knew she was right, but so many thoughts were swirling together in my mind that I could no longer be logical. Nothing seemed to be making sense anymore, and I felt like my own sanity was being stitched together by nothing more than a few isolated bursts of determination and will. I was running on empty, and wondering how long I could keep myself together.

“
Oliver!
” a woman with short brown hair called out. She was sitting at the laptop farthest from Sarah and me. “I just got word that we found a shoe matching the clothing description.”

I stood up quickly and felt Sarah holding onto my arm. “Nate's shoe?” I croaked. My voice sounded like a scream in my mind, but came out as something barely louder than a whisper.

A mash-up of emotions, encompassing both panic and relief, raced through my entire body. Hot prickles crept to the surface of my neck, making me feel even more raw and vulnerable.

I was frightened about what the woman was going to say next and, for the first time since I'd found out Nate was missing, I wanted time to stand still. I was scared about what I'd find out about my son, and I needed to prolong the feeling of hope that I'd been clinging to since his disappearance. I had to live within the quick, isolated moment of believing he was okay, that he was alive, before anyone could tell me anything different.

34

“Nate's shoe?” I repeated in a louder voice, feeling faint. I swallowed hard to diminish the chance of throwing up the rancid coffee that had started to bubble in my stomach. “Where was it?”

Oliver looked in my direction and held his index finger up to his lips, gently signalling for me to be quiet in a kind and sympathetic way.

“Do you have anything more, Ana?” Oliver asked the woman, walking over to her. “Was there anything with it? Any signs that Nate had been there?”

Ana shook her head. “Just the shoe, Ollie. About three blocks from the pool hall where he was last seen.”

“Can I see the shoe?” I yelped. I knew Oliver and Sarah wanted me to be patient, but there was no way I could stay quiet. “Please … I can tell you if it's his or not. I bought the shoes he was wearing just last week.”

“I know this is hard, Ashley,” Sarah said gently, trying to steer me away from Oliver and Ana. “But let's let Oliver figure out what's going on with the shoe they found. He'll talk to us when he's ready. We don't want to get in the way of figuring things out as quickly as possible.”

“But … but
I
know Nate's shoes. I can tell them if it's his or not.
Please, Sarah
. Tell Oliver to show me the picture.”

As if on cue, Oliver crossed the room and handed me a picture of the shoe they had found. “Here, Ashley. Take a look. It's a size six.”

There was no mistaking it. The orange and blue lace-up shoe was lying on its side, a few inches from a giant puddle. The bottom was tipped up just enough to reveal the orange zigzag pattern etched onto the black sole. The picture Oliver held was dark, clearly taken with someone's phone, and there was mud caked onto the sides of the shoe. But it was definitely Nate's.

I nodded my head and collapsed into Sarah's waiting arms. Oliver took that as his final prompt to order his entire team to the immediate location where the shoe was found. “Knock on house doors and ask for people's co-operation. Look in people's garages, backyards, side yards … whatever. Find him, people. Let's go!”

I watched the search command centre come alive with new energy, and the officers who had checked in for updates returned to their police cars and sped off with lights flashing.

I called Pete to tell him the news. “So is this a good sign … or … not a good sign?” he asked after answering the phone on the first ring.

“I'm not sure. I guess it could be a good thing. Right? Especially since Oliver doesn't suspect foul play or anything like that? If they found Nate's shoe … well, then hopefully that means he's nearby and they will find him soon.”

“Yeah … I guess you're right.” Pete's voice didn't sound like he was convinced. I forced myself to ignore it.

I asked Pete if he'd talked to his sister. He hadn't. It wasn't shocking given my husband's stubbornness, but I felt sad for him that he was at home by himself, forced to deal with the terror and loneliness alone. At least I had Sarah and Oliver, and the woman I now knew as Ana. Their presence provided a bit of comfort, despite the fact they had all been complete strangers to me only hours before.

“Ashley?” Oliver had walked up behind me and tapped my arm. I covered the mouth of my phone, and focused my attention solely on Oliver.

“We found Nate.”

“You found
Nate
?! You found our son? Oh … thank
God
,” I shouted, dropping my phone and attacking Oliver with a bear hug.

“Yes, we found Nate,” Oliver responded, picking up my phone and handing it to me. I held it up so Pete knew what was going on as well.

“Ashley? Ash!” I heard Pete call out from my phone. His voice was muted and distant. “What's going on?”

I returned the phone to my ear and explained what I'd learned, then put him on speakerphone so he could hear Oliver's update as well.

“Where is he?” I asked Oliver. “When can we see him?”

“He's in an ambulance, en route to the hospital. Sarah will take you to meet him there.” Oliver took the phone from me and gently grabbed hold of my upper arms. He turned me towards him and firmly held me in place to keep me from dashing out the door. “Ashley, you need to know that Nate's in pretty rough shape. I think he's going to be okay, but he's fairly banged up. And the officer that found him said that he's not making a lot of sense. He keeps saying illogical, random things. You need to brace yourself for that.”

“I don't care what he's
saying
,” I yelled. “Just let me see my son. Please, Sarah, can you take me to Nate?”

Sarah nodded her head and held the RV door open. I climbed in the front of the cop car, and we rode to the hospital in complete silence. My eyes did not stray from the road in front of me, and it felt like the longest drive of my life.

“Can't you go faster? Please?” I asked. Sarah looked at me for a second, then hesitated slightly before nodding. She put on both her lights and sirens, and we raced through the city. We arrived at the hospital just as Pete was running in.

“Ashley. Oh, thank God,” Pete cried, taking me into his arms. “I've been so scared. It's been a nightmare … I'm so relieved that it's over.”

I nodded, pulling Pete's arm towards the hospital and into the Emergency Room. I barely noticed Sarah following behind us.

“You have our son!” I cried at the triage nurse when we arrived at the counter. “Nate Carter. A little boy. He's nine years old. He's been missing all night, and was just brought in by ambulance.
Please
… please, can we see him?”

The nurse took one look at my desperation and stood up, signalling for us to follow her through the double Emergency Room doors.

When we walked into the flurry of doctors and medical teams, I could already hear him screaming. His little voice, deafening in volume but full of vulnerability and fear, filled the room. I couldn't place exactly where it was coming from, and it was getting louder.

As we rounded the bend of the hospital corridor, we saw him. Our tiny son, who at only nine years old and still an innocent child, was flailing his arms and legs with more strength than I'd ever seen him show. He was crying and begging the doctors and nurses to leave him alone. To let him go.

“Nate!” I dropped my purse on the floor and started to run to my son. But before I could reach him, Sarah pulled me back.

“Stay here, Ashley,” Sarah said firmly. “He won't be able to see you now. I know it's hard, as a mother. You want to go to him. To help him. But you should stay here. You
need
to stay here. That's what will help him the most right now.”

Despite Sarah's firm grip on my arm, I somehow managed to escape. I pushed her away and continued running towards my son. I bulldozed my way through the medical team standing alongside his bed, holding him down, and tried to take Nate into my arms.

Half a second later, Nate elbowed me in the face.

The blow felt like it had come from a two-hundred-pound man. I immediately crumpled to the floor, crawling into Pete's arms when he rushed in to scoop me up and move us out of the doctors' way.

“It's okay, Ash. Shhh … shhh.” Pete spoke softly, not taking his eyes off our son. “We'll let the doctors do their jobs. It's okay. Nate's safe now. That's all that matters.”

“No! Nate needs us. We're his parents. I'm his
mother
, for fuck's sake. He needs
me
.” My voice was getting louder. I was bawling hysterically and on the verge of hyperventilating.

Pete held me tighter. I sensed that my husband was restraining me in the same way the doctors were holding down our son.

Nate weighed barely sixty pounds, yet the team of adults trying to restrain him was having trouble. His arms and legs flailed everywhere, walloping those standing nearest to him. Two nurses struggled to get his arms and legs into restraints.

“He's too small,” the shorter of the two nurses called out. “His wrists keep slipping. I can't keep him in the restraints!”

“Let's give him two milligrams of Lorazepam,” one of the doctors ordered loudly, looking at the nurse struggling to get Nate's arms in restraints. She immediately fled the violence and came back with a long needle, which she jabbed into Nate's upper arm.

The doctors and security team continued to hold Nate down, while Pete and Sarah held me back. Within moments, Nate's agitation began to diminish. Ten minutes after that, our son was peaceful. He looked like a completely different kid, quietly dozing, with his frail little body looking too small in the big hospital bed.

“Your son's sedation should last for several hours,” the ER doctor explained quietly. “I'm sure you have a lot of questions for us, and we have a lot for you as well. But why don't you take some time to be near your son now, and we'll chat later. We've got a bit of time. Does that sound okay to you?”

I nodded, inching towards Nate's side and taking a seat beside him. Despite the fact that he smelled worse than anything I could have imagined, I buried my face into the side of the hospital bed. I didn't want to leave him alone.

With Pete standing behind me, his hand placed firmly on my shoulder, I wept into the hospital bed. My tears and sobs were uncontrollable. I cried because of what our family had been through that night, and the uphill battle I knew we were about to climb.

No matter how I tried, I couldn't stop the tears from rolling down my cheeks and onto Nate's smooth little hand. I pressed his limp fingers to my face as I wept, the dirt from his hand stamping my face and leaving my cheeks stained with the grime he had found while combing the streets alone. Underneath the dirt, the welt on my temple began to puff up.

Sarah left quietly, saying something about being in touch later to find out how we were. I heard her words but couldn't absorb what she was saying, and didn't have the mental capacity to even say goodbye or thank her for all she had done for me.

Twenty minutes later, the nurse who had administered the needle crept through the curtains and told us she needed to check on Nate. I nodded, but didn't move an inch as she made sure Nate was okay.

She worked quickly, pausing to smile in a sympathetic way every few moments. When she was done, she gently patted my back the way my mother had done years ago, and left.

Pete went to call Tay and give her another update on Nate, but I was going nowhere. With my feet planted firmly on the ground, my hand gripping his, I stayed beside my son.

I couldn't let go. Nor could I shake the electric fear that coursed its way through my soul as I braced myself for what might happen once Nate's medication wore off.