Forgotten Child

The Other Son

It began as a regular Saturday. While his mother and younger brother Steven were at the grocery store, Ian went over to his friend Jeremy's house. They were playing on the air hockey table in the basement when Jeremy's mother opened the door, hovering on the stairs.

"Ian, your mother's on the phone. She said it's an emergency."

Ian didn't see as the puck clattered into the slot, earning Jeremy a goal. He stared ahead at a crack in the wall, the white plastic mallet still in his hand. He dropped it on the table and trudged up the stairs, wondering what could have happened. Jeremy's mom led him into the kitchen and handed him the phone.

When he pressed the receiver to his ear, he heard his mother crying, heaving like she was drowning and gasping for air.

"Mom, what is it?" Ian said. After more crying, she finally spoke.

"S-Steven, he-he's gone."

Ian was puzzled. "What do you mean? Gone where?"

Mom was crying again, and didn't respond.

"Where did he go?"

She cried some more, and then whispered, "Come home, Ian."

Ian hung up the phone, and found Jeremy standing next to him.

"What's going on?" he asked.

Ian shook his head. "I don't know. But I need to go home."

When Ian saw the police cars in front of his house, he knew something bad had happened. There were also cameras, and a blond woman he recognized from TV. Were they going to be on the news tonight?

Ian watched the crowd, standing next to a police car. An officer in a dark blue uniform, his face obscured by his hat and mirrored sunglasses, turned to Ian and said, "What are you doing here, son?"

"This is my house," he answered. "Mom called and told me to come home. She said something happened to Steven." He looked up at the officer. "What happened to him?"

"What's your name, son?"

"Ian. Ian Schaffer."

The officer opened the car door. Ian heard a sharp crack of static, followed by, "The other son is here." As the officer led him through the crowd, the people parted to make room. The officer took Ian to the front door of his house, and knocked. A detective in a blue suit and a black tie answered, nodded to the officer, and pulled Ian into the house. The door slammed behind them.

His parents were sitting at the dining room table. Mom's head was pressed into Dad's neck, and Dad staring ahead at nothing while another detective asked them questions. They didn't notice Ian come in. The detective in the blue suit sat at the table and motioned for Ian to join them.

Ian approached the two strange men, waiting for his parents to look up. When they didn't, he asked the detectives, "Where's Steven?"

The blue suit shifted in his seat, leaned over, looked Ian in the eye, and said, "Ian, your brother disappeared this afternoon."

Ian was confused, didn't know what to say. Steven just disappeared? Did someone see him vanish into the air, like in the transporter on Star Trek?

"What does that mean?" he asked.

Ian flinched when the detective put a hand on his shoulder. He didn't like when anyone, even his parents, touched him. But he didn't say anything. He had the feeling that he wasn't supposed to complain.

"It means we don't know where your brother is."

"Is he coming back?"

The man dropped his head. "We're trying to find him. But we don't know when he'll be home." He patted Ian's shoulder again. "I'm sorry, son."