A Request

I ask for your indulgence. Below is the first 20 pages of my next effort at writing something longer than a very short story. A famous American once told me that you have to catch the reader's attention in the first 20 pages. That's where you hook them in and get them to beg for more. Or, something like that.

Well, OK, the famous American was my dad, but that's irrelevant.

I would greatly appreciate it if anybody who is interested would be willing to read the following and tell me honestly what you think. Please ignore formatting, style, punctuation, etc. Just read it and tell me if it leaves you wanting to know more. I'd appreciate it. Thanks. And, yes, the story doesn't have a title yet and there are a few places where I need to fill in some details.

“Tommy!”

“Tommy!”

“Thomas! You need to come out now!” I yelled.

I was getting scared. It was definitely not a good thing that Tommy was missing. He wasn’t an ordinary child and if I didn’t find him quick, things were going to get very bad. Aw hell, I was in deep shit. “Tommy! Tommy!” I spun around in a circle and scanned the area for the entire 360 degrees. Tommy and I had gone for a short hike from our cabin to Granite Lake, a small lake almost a mile’s walk from Silver Lake.

Silver Lake was a beautiful lake, loved by campers, fishermen, and nature lovers, about forty-five minutes south of Lake Tahoe. The lake was dominated by Thunder Mountain, a peak that loomed over the northeastern corner of the lake. In the surrounding mountains there were countless smaller lakes. Granite Lake was one of these.

Tommy and I had set out from our cabin, my hope that we could take the short hike to Granite Lake and return without incident. Any outing with Tommy was a struggle, but I planned on making an effort for the week we’d be at Silver Lake to get Tommy out and seeing the world around him. Maybe walking through the trees and seeing lakes and mountain views might crack open the walls that surrounded him. This short hike to Granite Lake was the beginning of that effort.

Now he had disappeared.

I walked up the path a ways, but not far enough so I would lose sight of the last spot where I saw Tommy. I was sure that if I lost sight of that spot, I’d have no chance of finding Tommy. Something in my mind told me that when he reappeared, it would be right in that spot. I didn’t want to lose track of it.

I couldn’t believe I’d lost him. All I had done was step off the path, gone around a boulder to take a leak and, when I got back to the path, Tommy was gone. He couldn’t possibly have got far and there was no doubt that he could hear me yell his name.

“Thomas Andrew McGee!”

The problem with Tommy was that just because I yelled his name, didn’t mean he was going to respond. So, I could yell all I wanted, but the reality was that unless I found Tommy on my own, there was little chance he’d come to me. But, I couldn’t stop.

“Tommy!”

It’s a natural reaction, when you’ve lost your five-year-old son on a hike in the mountains, you’re going to yell for him. Over and over.

“Tommy!”

Maybe the urgency in my voice would sink in somehow. Maybe he’d sense that something was wrong and that he had to come out of his world and come back to mine.

“Tommy! God damn it! Tommy, you need to come back! Now!” I was scared.

I was pissed off. I pulled out my cell phone and, without really looking, dialed the number for Stephanie’s cell phone. I held the phone to my ear and heard nothing. I finally looked at it and realized I didn’t have a signal. I was screwed. I couldn’t get in touch with Stephanie. I couldn’t call 911.

I had to make a decision. I either was going to keep looking for Tommy on my own, or I was going to have to return to the cabin and get help. I walked back to the spot where I had last seen him and yelled his name, “Tommy! Please come back to daddy! You’re not in trouble! Just come back and we’ll go back to the cabin and you can watch a video!”

If there was anything that would pull him out, it would be the opportunity to watch a video. I stood there silently for a moment or two trying to hear every sound. Hoping I’d hear a sound that would give his location away. I heard nothing.

I climbed up to the top of the boulder behind which I had peed just moments before. It gave me a better vantage point, but I still couldn’t see him. The area where I was didn’t have a lot of vegetation. There were other boulders and granite outcroppings, a few bushes and some isolated trees. But, about fifty feet away, the forest started. If Tommy had made it to the trees, any hope of finding him on my own was gone.

I jumped down from the boulder, twisting my ankle, and walked off the path towards the trees, ignoring the pain. I made my way between the rocks up the slope towards the trees and didn’t see anything that would indicate Tommy had come this way. I really didn’t know if Tommy had headed towards the trees, but it seemed logical to me.

When I got to the fringe of the trees, I peered in and wondered if I had made a mistake. Maybe Tommy was already back. Shit, this was so totally screwed up. I looked into the woods, knowing that Granite Lake was back there about another quarter of a mile. Another thought also entered.

Frequently when I drive through the mountains, or have the opportunity to go on a hike, as I pass through a heavily wooded area, I find myself looking off to the side, into those woods and wondering what the woods hide. What lurks in the gloom of a forest? Was there a monster hidden somewhere back there? Or a mountain hermit, living in a ramshackle hut? What secrets does a forest hold? I always wondered and always wanted to just crash through the trees until I found what was there, what those secrets were.

Now, I found myself looking in the trees that arose from the edges of Silver Lake and surrounded Granite Lake, wondering what was back there and realizing whatever was back there might end up with my son.

My composure finally broke. I raced back to the trail and began to run back to the cabin. All told, it was probably a mile back to the cabin. Under normal circumstances and at an altitude I was accustomed to, I might have been able to get there in less than ten minutes. Unfortunately, living in Sacramento, and having only arrived at the heightened elevation of Silver Lake the day before, I wasn’t acclimatized yet and within a very short distance I was winded and had to slow down to a brisk walk. And, then to a slower walk.

At some point, I tripped and fell on a small rock sticking up in the middle of the path. I skinned my knee and tweaked my ankle even more. I was out of breath, my ankle hurt, and my knee burned, with blood starting to run down my shin. I kept pulling my cell phone out to make sure that there still wasn’t a signal. After what felt like an hour of walking and jabbing at the buttons on my cell phone, I finally got back to our cabin.

As I tried leaping up all four steps at once, I tripped on the first step, and plunged face first onto the deck that surrounded the cabin. My attempt at yelling “Stephanie” as I did so, came out more like “Steph-an-ugh!” followed by the thud of my body hitting the deck.

I turned over on my back and looked up at the sky. The pine trees that surrounded our cabin reached towards the sky and framed the brilliant blue. I lay there, taking stock of the pain that wracked my body. My ankle throbbed, my shin (or is it knee?) had been scraped open again by the fall on the deck, the ribs on my left side had also been bruised by the fall. But worst of all was the mental and emotional anguish. I’d take the physical pain and multiply it by one hundred in exchange for Tommy being by my side.

But where was Stephanie? I couldn’t imagine that the ruckus I had just caused wouldn’t have brought her out of the cabin at a run. I gathered myself and stood up, feeling new sparks of pain from head to toe, and walked into the cabin. It was empty. Stephanie, Anna, and my in-laws were gone. Stephanie had mentioned that she might take Anna, our two-year-old, down to the lake while I was gone with Tommy. I looked at my phone. There still wasn’t a signal and our cabin didn’t have a phone. I had to decide whether to run to the office and call 911 or try to find Stephanie first. Every second mattered and I looked around the cabin trying to figure out which way to go. I walked out of the cabin.

The path from the cabin gave me a couple more minutes to think because halfway between the cabin and the office, it branched off towards the lake’s little beach. By the time I got to the fork in the path, I still hadn’t decided what to do. Indecision is the enemy of emergencies. I decided to see if Stephanie was at the beach. It was a shorter walk to there than to the office. When the path nears the beach, about forty feet from the water’s edge, the trees open up and you can see the beach. When I got to that point, I could see that Stephanie was there with Anna. As soon as I saw her, I started running towards the lake and yelling Stephanie’s name.

“Stephanie! Stephanie!” I yelled, as I rambled down the path. I could see her turn her head to look in my direction. I saw her eyes look behind me and her eyebrows raise, ever so slightly.

“Where’s Tommy?”

“Stephanie,” I started, and I couldn’t go any further. I stopped running and stood there, looking at her, wishing I could say anything other than what I was about to say. My eyes began to water and a single tear began streaming down my left cheek.

“Jack, what’s wrong? Where’s Tommy?” Stephanie asked again, her voice rising.

“He’s gone, Stephanie. I lost him. I don’t know where he is.”

I began to continue the walk towards the beach and Stephanie. I wanted to get to her before it got any worse, but there was no chance of that.

“What do you mean? How could you lose Tommy? Jack?! What’s going on?”

“We were hiking to Granite Lake, and I . . . He disappeared, Steph, and I couldn’t find him?”

“How can you lose a five-year-old, Jack?”

“I don’t know . . .”

“Never mind. Did you call 911?”

“Not yet. I can’t get a signal on the cell phone.”

“What about the office?”

“I haven’t been there yet. I came to find you first.”

“How could you do that? We have to get help to find him? You should have gone to the office first. God, Jack, what were you thinking?” Stephanie got up, picking Anna up as she did so. She walked up the beach and began to walk up the path towards the office. I gathered up the things she left behind and scurried after her.

“Stephanie? Stephanie? Wait up.” She didn’t even slow down. If anything, she quickened her pace.

“Stephanie, please wait,” I pleaded.

“Jack, if you can’t keep up, that’s not my problem. Tommy’s missing. You lost him. I’m not waiting for you.”

* * *

Stephanie and I had met almost ten years ago after an incredibly traumatic chapter in my life, but that chapter is for another time and place to tell. What happened when Stephanie and I met was that we took our time getting to know each other, fell in love, and married within a year. We then spent a couple of years being bums, taking side jobs, doing just enough work to cover the bills and get by. We were able to spend a lot of time in the mountains of California--hiking, camping, and skiing.

One day while having lunch in Bishop, a town of ________ on the ___________, we saw an advertisement for a bed and breakfast inn that was for sale. On a lark, we drove by the inn. The inn, the ______ (something that relates to Bishop), was two stories, with three rooms on the second floor and a cottage in the backyard. It was nestled in the trees on a hillside that overlooked Bishop. With the money we had left in our dwindling savings, and a large loan, we bought the place. After our nomadic lifestyle of the prior few years, we were ready to settle down. We had started talking about having kids. Bishop wouldn’t be a bad place to raise a family. It was hours away from any major city and was small enough that it didn’t have most of the problems you find in larger towns or cities.

The _________ Inn kept Stephanie and I busy for a couple of years while we learned the ropes of running an inn. But, then we were blessed with the birth of our first child, Thomas Andrew. I had never been sure about being a parent, but the night my son was born all doubts disappeared. I was a father. This little guy, this eight pound ball of crying and red-faced screams, was my responsibility. He was mine and I was going to get to raise him. I was going to be a better father to him than my father had been to me.

My father, who had walked out on my mom when I was little, and then walked out on me when I was thirteen, was not the example I would follow. That first night, after Tommy was born, I fell asleep with him cradled in my arms. My wife, afraid that I would drop him, got out of her hospital bed and took him out of my arms. I’ve never forgiven her for that.

I started making lists of the things that Tommy and I would do. The things I would teach him and the places we would go. The list was a mental list and it grew with every week. Baseball. Riding a bike. Sitting on the bank of a river and talking about life. Sharing stories about our day. Reading Dr. Seuss’ books. Squirt gun fights. Making armpit farts. Wrestling and tickling. The list was a long one and I couldn’t wait to start working on the items on that list.

I was ready to be a father and for a couple of years everything went as planned. Tommy sat up, he scooted, he crawled, he walked, and he began to talk. But, then just before Tommy turned two, something happened. A switch turned off and Tommy stopped hitting his milestones. He stopped talking and he seemed to draw into himself. He no longer enjoyed our hugs and he could sit for incredibly long periods of time just staring at a mylar balloon dancing in the air, or at a spinning top. When the top would stop spinning, he’d spin it again . . . and again . . . and again.

After puzzling over Tommy for a few months, Stephanie and I began to question our doctors about what we were seeing. The end result, after several months of appointments and specialists and lists of questions and answers, was the word every parent fears. Autism. Tommy was diagnosed with autism.

DESCRIPTION OF AUTISM…

The night that we received a confirmed diagnosis, I didn’t sleep. I cried for much of the night and began crossing things off the mental list of all the things Tommy and I would do. Would he ever play baseball? How would we be able to talk about our day if he wasn’t able to talk. To this day, every few weeks, I think of something I had hoped to be able to do with Tommy--the week before we went to Silver Lake it was teaching him how to cross-county ski--and realize that the chances are pretty slim.

At the age of five, after a couple of years of intensive therapy, Tommy hadn’t progressed enough for me to start putting things back on the list. The experts that we had talked to, including some at leading institutes studying autism in San Francisco and Southern California, all agreed that those first couple of years were critical and, given Tommy’s lack of progress, Tommy was likely to need a lot of help for the rest of his life. The idea of playing baseball or going cross-country skiing or having him read The Lord of the Rings was pretty farfetched.

There were plenty of times over the past few years when I wondered what life might have been like if Tommy had been “normal” or if we hadn’t had Tommy. It was a horrible feeling, but it was hard, raising Tommy and having my hope for him die a little more every day.

Tommy’s disability had also caused a tension between Stephanie and I that hadn’t existed before his diagnosis. There were times when I expressed my frustrations and Stephanie was offended. There’s no doubt in my mind that Stephanie is the best mom in the world. She accepted Tommy for who he was and never expressed any doubt or anger. When I did, she seethed and didn’t hesitate to tell me. The result was that we weren’t as close as we had been. We had grown apart. While we appeared to present a unified front to the outside world, the fact was that we were far from unified. We still loved each other, but it just wasn’t the same.

That’s where Stephanie and I were with Tommy the day I lost him in the mountains of Silver Lake. A five-year-old boy who we loved as much as was humanly possible, but who had a disability that hung around our necks constantly threatening to drag us down.

* * *

When I got to the parking lot in front of the lodge, I saw Stephanie, with Anna on her hip, open the door and enter the lodge. I could hear her across the parking lot yell, “We need help! We’ve lost our five-year-old! His name is Tommy! Please help!”

God, that hurt to hear her. I could hear the panic in her voice, the quaver as she tried hard not to lose control. I raced across the parking lot as fast as I could, limping as I went and sucking air into my lungs. I crashed through the door of the lodge just as the lady behind the desk hung up the phone.

“They’re on the way, honey. Just sit down and try to relax.”

“I can’t relax,” Stephanie said. “My son is out there somewhere by himself. He’s autistic. We have to start looking for him now. How long until the police get here?”

“They didn’t say. It all depends on how close the nearest CHP is. Out here, you never know. But you can’t just go rushing off. We’ll lose you, too.”

“You don’t get it! He’s autistic. He’s not a normal kid. We aren’t going to be able to go out in the woods, yell his name, and have him come running. If he sees something dangerous, he’s not going to know. Hell, if he comes across some water, he’s likely to walk right into it and drown.”

Stephanie got up, crossed the floor in a few strides, and started to push by me to go back outside.

“Hey Stephanie. Hold on. Let’s figure out what we should do before we go rushing out there.”

“Back off, Jack. You’ve screwed this up royally. I really don’t think you’re in a position to tell me what to do,” Stephanie snarled at me. “Tell you what, here’s Anna. Do you think you can avoid losing her, too.” She handed Anna over to me and as I grabbed on to Anna, she started bawling. She was at that stage where her mom was the center of her universe, there was no way having dad hold her was acceptable. Over her squalling I heard Stephanie say that she was going out to the Girl Scout camp parking lot and to let the police know.

The Girl Scout camp parking lot was essentially the trailhead for the hike to Granite Lake. It was a small parking lot that represented the last evidence of civilization before the woods and rocks surrounding Silver Lake took over. It was at the end of a road that wound down the eastern edge of Silver Lake and was large enough for five or ten cars. It was actually the perfect place for a search effort to be based. Maybe Stephanie knew what she was doing.

I made sure that the clerk had heard Stephanie and would direct the police to the parking lot and then left the lodge in hot pursuit of Stephanie. As I crossed the parking lot, her parents drove up. I had no idea where they had been, but I didn’t really care. They could take over with Anna so I could catch up to Stephanie and focus on Tommy.

“Here, take Anna. We’ve got a problem. Tommy’s missing,” I said as I thrust Anna at Joyce, my mother-in-law.

“What do you mean, Tommy’s missing?”

“I lost him,” I said sheepishly. “We went for a hike and he disappeared. I called for him, but you know Tommy . . .”

“Jack, how could you lose Tommy? Where’s Stephanie?”

“She’s gone up to the trailhead. We’ve called the police. They’re on the way. We’ll let you know what’s going on. Just take care of Anna.”

“I’m coming with you,” Charlie, Stephanie’s stepfather said. Charlie had been leaning against the car listening intently while I told Joyce what was going on. When he spoke up, I was surprised. He was the type of guy who didn’t have much to say, tried hard not to be involved. I usually thought of him as somebody in the background. He was always there, but just not very involved.

“No, please, Charlie. Just help with Anna,” I said.

“No, Jack. I’m coming. You’re going to need all the help you can get.”

“Fine. Let’s get going.” I turned and started to walk in the direction Stephanie had gone. As I did so, I noticed Joyce put her hand on Charlie’s arm and lean over and whisper something in his ear as she glanced over at me. There was something about that look that alarmed me, but I didn’t have any time to deal with it right then.

* * *

Charlie and I tried to hurry along the road to the trailhead as we could, but with my physical condition and his age, we weren’t able to catch up to Stephanie. When we got there, she was pacing back and forth from one end of the parking lot to the other, frequently looking in the direction of Granite Lake.

“Where are they?”

“Who,” Charlie asked.

“The cops, dad. The cops. They should be here by now. Tommy’s missing and they’re probably sitting somewhere having coffee and doughnuts.”

“Honey, calm down . . .”

“No, dad, I’m not going to calm down. My son, my autistic son is lost out there somewhere. And this idiot lost him,” Stephanie said as she tipped her head in my direction.

Ouch. That hurt. It was true and totally deserved, but it hurt nonetheless to hear her say it with such venom. I began to wonder if the events of the last thirty minutes had caused some irreparable harm to my relationship with Stephanie. The past years had been tough, but we had managed to stay civil. Stephanie’s comment was a first.

Stephanie started walking towards the trailhead.

“What are you doing?” I asked.

“I’m going to find Tommy. Another of your screw-ups that I have to fix. You don’t mind, do you, Jack?”

“Steph. Just wait until we get some help.”

“Jack, you wait if you want. I’m going now. I can’t stand here and wait and do nothing.” Stephanie turned her back on me and began walking down the trail towards Granite Lake.

“Charlie, go with her. Make sure she doesn’t get lost, too,” I said.

Charlie just nodded and started off after his daughter, in search of his first grandchild. When Tommy was born, I saw Charlie do something I hadn’t seem him do before or since. He cried. Not much, but he cried. Tommy’s birth was just as much of a celebration for Charlie and Joyce as it was for Stephanie and I. They showered him with toys and gifts. They spoiled him the way only grandparents can. When we learned Tommy was autistic, Charlie and Joyce cried with us. But, it was the two of them who showed Stephanie and I how to be strong, move forward and do everything we could for Tommy. Charlie and Joyce never hesitated to help us with Tommy. They helped with the therapy. They learned just as much about autism as we did. They were always there to help us and support us. I had little doubt that Charlie and Joyce were hurting now knowing that Tommy was out there somewhere by himself.

In the distance I could hear Stephanie begin to call for Tommy. It was yet another stab in me. It was as though someone had a voodoo doll made in my image. But, instead of causing my physical pain, each prick in the doll caused me emotional pain. Hearing Stephanie yell for Tommy, and then hearing Charlie start to pick up the chorus, was just too much.

I found myself falling to the ground on my knees and looking up at the sky. I was exhausted, emotionally spent, and my body was still wracked with pain, from my ankle to my ribs. I had never prayed. I had never really believed in God. But I looked up at the clouds passing by and searched the sky for an answer. No answer came, other than the arrival of a couple of California Highway Patrol officers.