“Please let me go!”
Clark was shaking in fear and didn’t know how to get himself out of trouble. The men didn’t let him leave. Clark was terrified of the dudes in robes, but then he heard a man’s booming voice.
“Chad, back off! How many times will I tell you not to gather in my graveyard with your idiotic pals dressed in cult garb?”
Clark noticed the tall, well-dressed man in his 50s, as he approached. “Don’t worry, boy,” he said to Clark.
“These boys won’t do anything. They’re worse than kids!”
“Oh, c’mon, Mr. Bowen!” The dude who stood face-to-face with Clark pulled off his hood and sighed.
“Where else are our cult’s activities intended to take place if not here in a cemetery?”
“How about you stop burning your lousy report cards here and start studying instead? Back off, or I’ll tell your mother you often smoke here! I’m sure you wouldn’t take that chance.
Now, you,” he gestured to Clark. “Come here, kid. Let’s get you home.”
Mr.
Bowen seemed like a nice man to Clark. He dashed up to him and grasped his outstretched arm. Mr.
Bowen took the boy to a small cabin and served him hot chocolate. “What were you doing here at this hour?” the older man asked Clark. Mr.
Bowen appeared to be a kind man, so Clark opened up to him about his parents and brother, how their lives had turned into a living hell since Ted died, and how he didn’t like his parents and didn’t want to go home. ***
Back home, Linda was panicking. She dialed Paul several times, but he wasn’t answering.
It’d been over two hours since Paul left home after their quarrel. She had been sitting at the kitchen table, venting to her friend on the phone all this while. As soon as she hung up and looked around, it hit her: Clark wasn’t around.
Where’s Clark? Linda’s heart was racing as she looked at the clock. It was past 11 p.m.
when she checked Clark’s room and found him missing. Linda then went into the other rooms, the bathrooms, and the backyard, but Clark was nowhere to be found. To her, it was as if he’d vanished into thin air.
She called Paul again, no answer. “Pick your darn phone, Paul!” she cried. “Oh gosh!
What do I do now?”
Linda paced nervously in her living room. She had no idea where to look for Clark until… she remembered him coming into the bedroom when she and Paul were arguing. “The cemetery!” she recalled.
“He was going to meet Ted!”
Linda grabbed the house keys, locked the door, and hurried to the cemetery. As she turned to the first street, she saw Paul’s car. He pulled over and rolled down his window.
“What are you doing here?” he asked. “Clark isn’t home yet!” she said, getting inside the car. “Drive to the cemetery now!”
“What the hell?” Paul cried, starting the engine.
“But when… did he never come back?”
“No, Paul! We were, well…” she paused. “We were so busy arguing that we didn’t notice!”
Paul and Linda hurried to Ted’s grave as soon as they got to the cemetery.
But there was no sign of Clark. “Clark!” Linda shouted. “Honey, where are you?”
Right then, Paul nudged Linda.
“Linda!” he cried. “What the hell is going on there!? Look!”
Paul and Linda were taken aback when they noticed a fire in the distance and heard voices performing chants.
As they approached the gathering, they saw several teens dressed in black robes performing some sort of ceremony. “Oh Lord,” Linda cried out. “Could they… have done something to Clark?
Oh no, we’ve just lost Ted, and now—”
“Linda, no,” Paul consoled her. “Let’s not jump to any conclusions. Wait right here.
Excuse me, boys,” he began hesitantly, approaching them. “Is it possible you saw this boy here…”
One of the boys smirked as Paul showed them a photo of Clark. “Your son arrived at the wrong place at the wrong time!” he shouted.
“Your son should not have come!”
Paul looked intently at the teen, then at his friends. In those robes, they all appeared nothing but dumb, and they’d been burning what appeared to be their grade cards. “Oh really?” he asked, putting his phone in his back pocket.
“Well…” Paul grabbed the boy’s collar and yanked him forward. “Listen, kid; You’d better speak out, or you’re going home with a broken nose!”
“Woah, woah, okay! Relax!” the boy Paul had warned said.
“I’m…I’m Chad! And I saw your son. We did nothing to him!
Mr. Bowen, the graveyard guard, grabbed him.”
“What?”
“He… he took your son, sir. I swear.
He lives right outside the cemetery! We just come here every night to scare people, that’s all!”
***
When Paul and Linda arrived at Mr. Bowen’s cottage, they noticed Clark and Mr.
Bowen seated on a sofa through the window. The parents wanted to burst inside and hug their son but stopped in their tracks when they overheard him talking. Paul and Linda were embarrassed.
They listened in tears and shock as Clark spoke about his heart’s worries, and Mr. Bowen advised him to reconcile with his parents. “They still adore you, little boy,” the older man said.
“Look, kid. I lost my wife and child. Their plane crashed, and I’ve lived in this nightmare for years, missing them every single day and night.
What’s happened in your family is any parent’s worst nightmare come true. How about we be kinder to them?”
Clark agreed, nodding at some point. Instead of grieving the loss of what you don’t have, take the opportunity to appreciate what you do have.
Paul and Linda could no longer wait. “I’m so sorry, honey!” Linda cried as she and Paul stormed into the cottage. She held her boy close as her tears flowed freely.
Paul looked at Mr. Bowen apologetically and thanked him for saving Clark. “Thank you,” he said.
“Thank you so much for what you did for our family just now.”
“No problem. I know the hell you’re going through. So, I understand.
Hang in there.”
Eventually, Mr. Bowen became the Wesenbergs’ close friend. In months, idyll returned to this family’s household.
They could heal from Ted’s loss and finally look at life positively. Share this story with your friends. It might brighten their day and inspire them.
