The Stolen Child

“What happened to his clothes?” Mom asked.

The changelings stripped him, wrapped him in a caul of spiderwebs, and threw the body in the river to make him their own. That’s what they thought they were doing.

“Mrs. Day, I have no clue. First thing we had to do was get up out of the earth, and he showed me these holes along each of the walls where these handgrips and foot ledges had been carved. I didn’t notice them before, but up he scooted, like climbing a ladder.”

I had spent the better part of a month carving out those handholds, and I could almost picture the hobgoblin who was constantly digging in the warren.

“It was late when I found him, and the kid was tired and hungry, and in no condition to tramp back through the woods. And I was sure everyone was still looking for us. So we’re sitting there wondering what to do next, when he asks me if I’m hungry. He marches right over to the edge of the ring and rolls back an old dirty blanket that’s lying there. Underneath is a whole stash of food. Like a grocery store in the middle of the freakin’ woods. Peas, pears, applesauce, baked beans, a bag of sugar, a box of salt, dried-out mushrooms, raisins, apples. Like finding a buried treasure.”

I looked out the window. The storm had abated. Where had they gone?

“As I’m fixing up dinner, Oscar starts poking around the edges of this camp, exploring while I’m trying to find a way to open the cans. The kid comes back wearing these groovy old-time pants like knickerbockers and a dingy white sweater. He says he found a whole pile of things. You wouldn’t believe the stuff that’s out there—clothes and shoes, and gloves, hats, mittens. We go around uncovering all this junk—buttons, a pouch of primo weed—excuse me, Mrs. Day—a rock collection, and old cards and newspapers with stuff written on them, like a kid practicing his ABCs. Someone had saved a ball of string, a hair comb, a pair of rusty scissors. This freakin’ mixed-up doll baby. Like a commune out there, man. When I told the cops, they said they were going to go up and investigate, because they don’t want those types around our town.”

“I should say not.” My mother pursed her lips.

Elizabeth barked at her. “What’s wrong with communing with nature?”

“I didn’t say anything about nature.”

“Whoever lives out there,” Jimmy continued, “must have split before I got there, because they were gone, man. Over supper, Oscar tells me how he came to be naked in a hole in the ground in the middle of the forest. This group of children, pretending to be pirates, kidnapped him and tied him to a tree. Another boy put on a mask that looked exactly like him and made him jump into a hole. He took off all his clothes, and then he made Oscar take off all his clothes. I’m getting kind of freaked out, but the other kid says for Oscar to forget it all happened, and he climbs out, puts a lid on the tunnel.”

He chose not to go through with the change. I tried to remember who that might be.

“All the kids ran away, except for one girl, who said she would help him home. But when she heard a dog barking, she ran away too. When nobody came for him in the morning, he was scared and all freaked out, and that’s when he heard me. I don’t believe a word of it, but it does explain a lot of things. Like the children’s old clothes.”

“And that boy they found in the river,” Mom said.

“Maybe that’s what he thought he saw,” Elizabeth said. “Maybe that boy kinda looked like him, and that’s why Oscar thought he was wearing a mask.”

Mary put forward her own theory. “Maybe it was his double. Daddy used to say that everybody has one.”

Mom had the last word on the subject. “Sounds like the fairies to me.”

They all laughed, but I knew better. I pressed my forehead against the cool windowpane and searched the landscape for those I have tried to forget. The puddles in the yard were sinking slowly into the earth.





? CHAPTER 20 ?

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