The Vanished Son

I was the one who had to watch over Emma after she split from her husband, a reckless bloke who left her just after their son was born. The child’s grandfather, George, stepped in and helped with everything from changing diapers to paying the bills. I can’t imagine how she would have managed without him.

When the divorce came through, money dried up fast; the ex never sent any maintenance. Emma had to find work, and George, sighing, told her, Right then, youll have to get a job. Ill look after Leo. He gave her his word that he could manage.

So Leo spent most of his days with his granddad. Emma felt a flicker of jealousy the boy was terribly attached to George but her shifts left her with barely a moment for him.

One crisp morning, as Emma was getting ready for work, Leo leapt out of bed unusually early, eyes shining. Granddad says were off to pick mushrooms today, isnt that brilliant? he shouted.

Emma turned to George and asked, Are you sure, Dad? Where are you heading?

Were heading to Ashwood Forest. They say the porcini are out in force, he replied. George had been an avid mushroom hunter and trout angler all his life, and hed been teaching Leo the ropes since the boy could walk.

Emma agreed, adding, Just dont be out too late, alright?

George winked. When were done well have a couple of buckets and be home before dark, wont we, Leo?

They caught a bus to the edge of town and trekked the rest of the way on foot. Ashwood Forest began just beyond the outskirts, a short walk even for sevenyearold Leo.

Halfway to the trees, a familiar car pulled up. Hey, George, off to the woods again? the driver called.

It was Alan, an old friend of Georges from the village. Yep, heard the porcini are plentiful, George answered.

Alan chuckled, Theres hardly any left in Ashwood these days. Head over to Turton Wood instead; theres a good patch. Im heading that way now hop in if you like.

George smiled, Sure, why not.

Alan dropped George and Leo near Turton Wood and they agreed to try hitching a ride back later, or call Alan if they got stuck.

Leo chatted happily as they walked, soaking up every tidbit George shared. The old man never grew weary of answering Leos endless questions; to the boy, his grandfather was a walking encyclopedia.

The forest was indeed teeming with mushrooms. Lost in their hunt, they wandered deeper when, without warning, George flailed his arms and collapsed.

Leo didnt scream at first. He ran to his granddad and asked, Granddad, did you trip?

George lay motionless, not answering. Fear rose in the boys chest. He struggled to roll his grandfather onto his back, shaking him, but George stayed still. Granddad, get up! Leo shouted, his voice cracking. Please, wake up!

That evening Emma came home, frantic, to find the house empty. She tried calling George, but his phone was out of range. Did they not make it back from the woods? she thought, anxiety tightening her throat.

An hour later her worry turned to panic. Two hours after that she was at the police station, breathless, pleading with the officer on duty. The officer, moved by her distress, immediately mobilised volunteers.

Within two hours the first search party, Emma and a few constables, were combing the very forest theyd left. The volunteers moved fast, but they were looking in Ashwood, not Turton.

Leo wailed at the sight of his unmoving granddad, then whispered to himself, Stay calm, lad. Granddad taught me not to lose my head in a jam. Pull yourself together. He slapped his own cheek, which seemed to steady his nerves.

He reminded himself, Check if hes breathing. The thought terrified him what if there was no breath at all?

Summoning courage, Leo placed his ear against Georges chest. A faint rise and fall appeared. Hes breathing! he breathed, relief flooding him. Just sit and wait for him to come round.

He tried calling his mother, but there was no signal. So he stayed, watching the dimming light.

As dusk fell, Leo recalled Georges lessons about surviving in the wild. If night comes and Granddad stays unconscious, hell freeze on that cold ground. I must act, he thought.

He pulled a lighter from his pack, gathered dry twigs, and coaxed a fire to life. It took a few tries, but the flames finally caught. Now for more wood before darkness settles, he muttered, gathering pine branches and piling them over George.

You wont freeze, Granddad, Leo whispered, feeding the fire. Well keep warm like you showed me.

The night was terrifying. The forest sounds made Leos throat tighten to the point of choking. He clung to Granddads warm side, wrapped in a blanket, and whenever the fire sputtered, he lunged out from under the blanket to add more logs, mumbling, I remember, Granddad never let the fire die.

At dawn he sipped tea from his thermos, pouring half into Georges mouth, lifting his head slightly. You need water, he thought, spotting a clear spring a short distance away.

He remembered Georges warning about the red berries that grew nearby: Wolfberries dont eat them. Leo gathered a handful, filled his thermos with the berries, and marked the path with a string of red beads.

Searches for the missing boy and his grandfather stretched into the third day. Volunteers kept returning, drawn by news of the disappearance.

Emma, eyes dark circles deep under them, moved from one search team to another, begging them not to stop. She avoided the woods herself, exhausted, but the fear for her son kept her going.

On the fourth day, a volunteer, gathering his courage, approached her. Statistically, after three days the chances of finding someone alive drop sharply. Weve swept the forest; beyond it lies a marsh. Perhaps we should start looking there.

No! Emma shouted. George knew the land. He would never have taken Leo into a marsh! Theyre alive, I know it! Keep looking!

By the fifth day Emma staggered out of the forest, her gait unsteady. A car pulled up, and out stepped Alan, an old friend of Georges.

Emma, what on earth is happening here? he asked, looking at the makeshift camp and the weary volunteers.

Hearing the story, Alans face went ashen. I I drove them to Turton Wood five days ago.

Everyone, back here! Emma cried.

A few hours later a young university student, part of the volunteer crew, followed a wisp of smoke. He found a small, barely dying fire with two motionless figures beneath a blanket.

He called out softly, Leo?

One of the figures shivered and then moved it was Leo, eyes wide. Youve been looking for us forever, he croaked. Granddad kept coming to himself. I gave him water and a bit of bread. Hes alive, just unconscious. His voice was weak but hopeful.

The volunteer lifted the trembling boy onto his shoulders, carrying him back to the ambulance where Emma waited, tears streaming down her cheeks.

Granddad, you have to stay with me, Leo whispered, clutching his grandfathers hand. You still have so much to teach me.