Elephant in the Sky (5 page)

11

Nate

I lift Mom's hand off my arm. Why is she still with me? It's morning. It's weird that she slept with me.

I sneak out of bed and walk towards my window. I am very quiet so that Mom won't wake up. I wait.

Outside, the sun has started to come up. It is light, but no one is on the street. Birds are chirping. One flies out from the tree it is sitting in and lands on my windowsill. I look him right in the eyes. He looks back at me. We stay that way, quiet and staring, for a long time. I think the bird looks sad as well. Like me.

The bird flies away and I am alone again. I continue waiting. Waiting for my sign. Waiting to see Noah.

After what feels like forever, I see Noah ride his bike down the street. He stops at my driveway. He shields his eyes from the sun and waves when he sees me standing in the window.

I glance at my mom, who is still sleeping. I can make a run for it and she won't wake up. She won't know that Noah and I decided to meet each other super early in the morning to ride our bikes.

I run to meet Noah. When I get outside, he is still waiting on our driveway.

“Let's hit the good park, guy. No one will be there at this time.” Noah fist-bumps me because it's our standard greeting. We do it every time we see each other, just like the other kids at school. That's where I learned it. But the kids at school never do it with me. Only Noah.

I jump up and down. I am excited. I love the park when no one is there. Especially the good park.

I keep jumping. Up. Down. Up. Down. I jump in one spot until my lungs burn from the cold air. My teeth rattle and I bite my lip when my feet hit the ground. I taste blood.

“Look!” I show Noah the blood.

“You're fine. Don't be a baby,” Noah answers. He jumps on his bike. I think he is going to go to the parkette a few streets over. But he starts heading towards the
really
good park. The one with the zoo.

I grab my bike from beside the house and begin to follow him. I try to ignore the blood. My lip stops stinging.

Noah is ahead of me. I ride fast to catch up. The cold air keeps burning my lungs. I ride faster. I laugh out loud because my insides feel cold but my skin feels like it's burning.

We get to the park. We sit on the swings. I pump my feet as hard as I can. I want to go high. As high as Noah.

Higher.

Higher.

Higher.

I feel excited.

Then I get scared. But I kind of like it. I like feeling scared. So I jump off the swing. I hit the ground. I hit it hard.

Really,
really
hard.

12

Ashley

The minute I realized Nate was gone, I jumped out of bed and ran down the stairs. I tried to convince myself he was likely eating Cheerios and watching cartoons, or perhaps he had sneaked outside to play in the backyard. But a stronger sense in the pit of my gut told me it was something else. Something bad.

“Nate?” I called out. The house was silent. Upstairs, Pete and Grace still slept.

I raced around the house, looking in every spot Grace and Nate had ever used while playing Hide and Seek.

No Nate.

I poked my head out our back door and called his name, hearing nothing in return but creaks from the empty swings that were dancing in the wind. Nate wasn't in the front yard. Or the garage.

When I was convinced he wasn't on our property, I ran upstairs to wake Pete. He rose instantly, jumping into the warm-up pants he had thrown on the floor beside our bed when he went to sleep the night before.

I followed Pete downstairs. He grabbed his keys from the foyer table. “Do you want me to come?” I asked him.

“Probably not the best idea since the last time I checked it was illegal to leave sleeping children alone in the house.” Pete's voice had a mean bite to it. When he saw the tears spring to my eyes, he continued in a softer voice. “Ash, you need to stay here. I'll go. Just try not to alarm Gracie when she wakes up. You know how she can get sometimes when she's scared. Maybe just say I've gone out for a drive or something. Okay?”

I nodded, hoping I wouldn't have to have that conversation any time soon. I wasn't in the frame of mind to pretend like everything was okay. I was worried sick about my son.

Feeling woozy, I tottered into the kitchen and tried to think of what to do next. Should I call the police? No, it had only been about twenty minutes since I'd realized he was gone. Should I call a neighbour so I could look for Nate too? I couldn't, because that would definitely create suspicion when Grace woke up.

Instead, I put on a pot of coffee, hoping it would calm my jitters. When it finished percolating, I slugged back the piping hot brew and immediately burned the inside of my mouth.

“Shit!” I said, grabbing some ice from the freezer door. I popped it in my mouth and took relief in the icy chill that numbed the pain.

Three minutes later, after what felt like an eternity, I couldn't wait any longer. I texted Pete.

Did you find him?

His response came almost instantly.

No, not yet.

I took my coffee out to the front porch and sank into the thick cushion on one of our portico chairs. The icy October chill immediately found my bones, and I shivered as I waited impatiently for Pete to find Nate. I thought about going inside to get a coat, but didn't want to remove my eyes from the street.

Neighbours were starting to poke their heads outside to greet the morning. Many of them quickly picked up their papers and retreated back indoors, ready to absorb the Saturday news alongside their own coffees. A few ventured farther outside to take their dog for a morning walk or rake leaves on their lawn.

“Morning, Ashley!” a voice called out. I looked up, dazed, to see Bernie, our neighbour from across the street, waving at me. He pointed at the Sold sign hanging on his front yard. “Did you see? We sold our house yesterday. Won't be long before we're off to Oakville. We need to get to the suburbs. Having nowhere to park our car is driving my wife nuts.”

“Congratulations,” I managed to call back. I could barely focus on what Bernie was telling me. I hadn't noticed they'd sold their house. Bernie gave me the thumbs-up before picking up his copy of the
Globe and
Mail
on the front porch. He examined the front cover, then waved a final time before disappearing back into his house.

I wrapped my sweater tighter around me. Since I hadn't made it out of Nate's bed the previous night, I was in the same outfit that I'd worn to work the day before.

I sipped at my coffee, now at a tolerable temperature, and hugged the mug for warmth. With each passing minute, I became more desperate to see our car pull into the driveway, complete with Nate's lopsided grin shining from the back seat.

“Mom … ? What are you doing out here?” I jumped at Grace's voice and spilled coffee on my pants.

“Pardon? Oh, I just thought I'd get some air. Enjoy the morning, you know?” I forced a smile. “Want to join me?”

“No, thanks. I've got to go text Emma. Plus, it's
freezing
out here.” Grace flipped her long blonde hair behind her shoulder and retreated back in the house.

Shaking my head, I sensed that Grace didn't even realize Nate was gone. Depending on her mood, she so often modelled the classic twelve-year-old whose world seemed to start and stop with her ever-evolving group of tween friends, and she became oblivious to everything else.

I turned my eyes back to the road, straining my ears to hear the sound of our car. Each time I thought I heard one I jumped up, frenetically gawping down the road. I was clinging to hope.

I needed someone to talk to. I thought about calling my best friend, Tay, but I knew she'd be in the middle of her chaotic Saturday madness, trying to get her four children ready for their various morning activities. Plus, I didn't want to worry her.

Tears threatened to fall, then coursed down my cheeks. The longer Nate was gone, the less successful I was at fighting my anxiety over his absence. I could only keep calm for so long. I was losing control of my ability to smack logical sense into the powerful dose of pre-grief agony that takes over a mother's soul when she is waiting to hear if her child is all right.

13

Nate

My ankle is burning. It hurts so, so much. I want my mommy. Where is my mommy?

I'm lying on my back. The big sky is grey. I wanted Noah to stay with me but he got scared when I fell. So he left. He said his mom would kill him for sneaking out of his house so early.

I know Noah is sorry for leaving me by myself when I am hurt. He was just scared. Like I am now. Because now there is no one to help me. And I am all alone. And I am lonely.

I'm cold. And my ankle is killing me. Where is my
mommy
?

The swing keeps swinging over my head. It creaks every time it goes back and forth. Back,
creak
. Forth,
creeak
. Back,
creeeak
. Forth,
creeeeak
.

I can't breathe.
Where
is my mommy?

There is no one at the park. I need help.
Where is MY
MOMMY?

I'm scared. Freaking out. And my ankle hurts so bad. It really, really hurts.

I need help. I want my mommy.

14

Ashley

After forty minutes, I couldn't take it any longer. I called Tay, desperate for someone to calm me down.

“Ashley? Slow down. What's wrong?” Behind Tay's voice were the shrieks of four children, likely eating breakfast.

“It's Nate. He's gone.”

“Gone? What do you mean
gone
?”

“I … I woke up and he wasn't there. Not in his bed. Not in our house. Not anywhere!”

“Okay, Ash, listen to me. We'll figure this out. But just hang on one sec.” I could hear the muffled sound of Tay covering the phone, instructing her eldest daughter, Julia, to take over and watch her younger siblings.

“Okay, I'm back. Now tell me. And start from the beginning,” Tay demanded, her typical bossy demeanour emerging. Although she had stopped practising as a physical therapist so she could stay at home with her children, her ability to use words to control a situation and get someone to do something had always stayed with her. In better times, I had often joked it was because she needed to retain the skill in order to keep her house running smoothly.

“Well … Nate … he, uh, he isn't doing too well these days. He isn't himself. I don't know … he's just different. Yesterday he acted really weird in school and ended up whacking his head.”

“He did? Is he okay?” Tay asked.

“Yeah, he's fine. Just a bump. No concussion. But his behaviour is still so odd.” I took a big breath and dove into the story.

“So, you slept in his bed, and he just wasn't there when you woke up? When's the last time you saw him there? Did you wake up through the night?”

“No, I was exhausted. I must have fallen asleep right after he did, and the next thing I knew it was morning and he was gone.”

“
Mom?
It's eight-thirty. I have gymnastics in half an hour. Aren't we going?” Grace's voice startled me and I wiped away my tears before turning around to face her. I was still on the porch, shivering and talking into my iPhone.

I put my phone down and looked at my daughter. “Oh, right. Yeah, we're going. Just give me one minute to finish up my call with Aunty Tay, okay?” I returned my attention to the phone.

“Ash? You can't take Grace to gymnastics now. You have to stay there. I'll get Braeden to run my crew around to their activities, and I'll come pick up Grace and take her myself. You just stay there and wait for Pete to come home with Nate.”

“Are you sure?” I hated to take advantage of Tay and her husband, but I needed her help.

“Yes, of course I'm sure. I'll be there in ten minutes. Tell Grace to be ready because I won't have time to come inside to get her.”

“Okay. And Tay? Thank you.”

“I'm here to help you, my friend. And it's going to be okay. You know that, right?”

I nodded my head at the phone. I clicked off and told Grace that Tay would be taking her to gymnastics because I wasn't feeling well.

“But
why
?
I want
Daddy
to take me,” Grace whined. For a twelve-year-old, she could sometimes mirror a toddler. A split second later, she realized her father wasn't there. “Where is Dad, anyway? Why isn't he here?”

“Dad had to go out for a bit. He'll be home soon,” I replied quickly, anxious to think of something that would distract her from asking questions. We knew from experience she didn't do well with separation, and I didn't want her to know Nate was missing. “Why don't you run and grab a few mini chocolate bars from the Halloween stash in the cellar downstairs? Tuck them in your bag and you can have them after gymnastics as a treat.”

Grace looked at me with a funny glance. She paused for an instant, suddenly looking like she was going to ask more questions. I peered back at her, and our eyes locked in a staring contest. She blinked. Lucky for me, the urge for chocolate won and she pranced back into the house, excited to be given free rein on the kids' most coveted stash.

True to her word, Tay pulled up ten minutes later. When I poked my head inside to call Grace, she bounced from the house and climbed into Tay's back seat. I followed her and kissed her goodbye. She had chocolate on the side of her mouth, and I wondered how many bars she'd eaten before coming outside.

I stepped away from the car and waved to Tay as she backed out of the driveway. When she reached the street, she used the hand signal for “call me.” I nodded, assuring her that I would.

Returning to the porch, I texted Pete again. Twenty minutes later, I was still waiting. I tried to convince myself that hearing nothing could be a good thing. Maybe Pete had found him and was so busy yelling at him that he couldn't hear his phone. Or perhaps Pete had gotten so distracted in his happiness that he'd taken Nate for breakfast and left his phone in the car.

I'd just about convinced myself that Pete and Nate were gorging on waffles when my phone rang and scared me half to death.

“I found him. He was at High Park. Can you believe that? He rode his bike. I have no idea how he was even able to ride there, though. It's so far. Honestly, it's got to be —”

“Oh, thank God!” I interrupted, my open palm flying to my forehead. I finally exhaled, feeling as though I'd been holding my breath for over an hour. “I've been freaking out here, with way too many horrible thoughts running through my mind …”

“Ashley? You should know that he has a pretty banged-up leg. He jumped off the swings to keep up with Noah. And I think … well, I actually think his leg might be broken. I'm going to take him to the ER, just in case.”

“Keeping up with Noah? We're back to this?
Again?
” A blend of emotions took over, replacing the utter panic I'd been feeling since I woke up. Fury fused with concern. Frustration mixed with uncertainty. But above all else, exhaustion reigned supreme.

I bowed my head, placing my forehead in the palm of my hand. The day had barely started and I felt defeated already. “Okay, well I'll meet you guys there, then. Give me twenty minutes.” I hung up the phone and messaged Tay to let her know Nate was safe and somewhat sound.

When I flew through the emergency doors, I found Pete and Nate sitting side by side on the blue chairs in the emergency room. For the whole ride to the hospital, I'd been dreading that Nate would be having another panic attack, but when I got there he wasn't freaking out at all. Instead, he was staring straight ahead, seemingly oblivious to his rapidly swelling leg that was poking outside of the pajama shorts he was still wearing. It was unnerving to see him so still, given how puffy his leg had become — and equally unsettling to see that he hadn't changed out of his summer pyjamas before he took to the streets at some point in the night.

“
Nate?
Oh, my baby, Nate! I was
so
worried about you!” I flew to his side and buried his head in my neck. “Where were you?
Why
would you leave the house like that?”

I waited for Nate to respond. Seconds passed, but I got nothing except his continued stare at the empty row of chairs in front of him.

Pete looked at me and shrugged, exhaustion showing on his face.

“Nate? Nate … listen, sweetie … you aren't in trouble. But we need to know why you left the house. Why would you go in the middle of the night? You scared us, baby. I was really worried. Why would you go?”

Nate turned his head and said faintly, “It wasn't the middle of the night. It was morning. And I wanted to do what Noah was doing. I didn't want him to think that I was a baby.”

“Oh, Nate.” I brought my son in for a hug, unsure of what to say to make him feel better. It was all I could muster before we were called from our seats.

“Nate Carter?” A nurse holding a chart emerged from behind the desk and looked around the waiting room inquisitively. When Pete waved to show we were who she was looking for, the nurse nodded. “This way, please.”

Pete gingerly lifted Nate from his chair and carried our forlorn boy through the emergency room doors towards the examining rooms.

“Are you his mother?” the nurse asked as we passed.

I nodded my head. I knew there was worry in my eyes as they met hers.

“When your husband checked Nate in, he mentioned what happened yesterday. We got Nate in as quickly as possible. Looks like it doesn't seem to be a problem this time, though, which is good.” The nurse smiled at me. Her eyes were warm. Compassionate. “We'll take good care of your son, Mrs. Carter. I think the doctor will want to X-ray his ankle to see if it's broken, but we'll be as gentle as possible and try not to add to his stress. He'll be okay.”

“Thank you. I appreciate that,” I responded. In my moment of vulnerability, her kindness went a long way.

Through it all, Nate said nothing. He refused to answer any of the doctor's questions, and seemed to look through anyone who tried to speak to him. Pete explained to the doctor that Nate had fallen off the swings. I was relieved when the doctor didn't probe us on why Nate was wearing his summer pyjamas; we'd kept silent on the fact that he'd left at some point in the night, for fear of raising any social services flags.

While we were waiting for the X-ray results, a young nurse came in with stickers and lollipops, and tried her best to raise Nate's spirits. He shook his head and refused what she offered.

I tried to shake the embarrassment that flooded through me. I felt awful about being embarrassed about my son, yet I desperately wanted him to act normal. To stop staring at nothing as though he were absent from every moment in his life. I wanted him to cry. Or scream. Wail, even. He needed to
w
ail
the way most children would if they'd broken their ankle. Not be silent, staring into nothingness.

Half an hour later, a nurse came to put Nate's ankle into an air splint. He'd suffered a bad sprain. The doctors warned Nate to be careful, telling him that he had gotten off easy with only a sprain. They felt it was good news that it would be only a few weeks before it healed.

I couldn't help but think that a few weeks would seem like forever to a nine-year-old who also wasn't speaking, and fear flooded through me as I wondered what it would do to his already saddened spirit.