Authors: Rob Stennett
“What exactly are we going to tell Amy?” asked Mike.
“What do you mean?” Jeff asked.
“Well, about what happened. What are we going to tell her?”
“We’ll tell her the truth.”
“The truth, sure,” Mike said. “But what version of the truth?”
Amy clutched her lukewarm cup of coffee and stared out the window. There wasn’t much to look at outside. Right in front of
the house there was a large elm tree lit up from the glow of the front porch lights. The leaves had fallen off the tree so
all that was left were branches twisted and stretching in every direction. A little past the tree Amy could see the silhouette
of the windmill as the blades slowly spun. And beyond the windmill there was nothing but blackness. It looked like it engulfed
everything. All the lights in Goodland and everywhere else on the planet seemed to have been shut off.
Her son was out there somewhere in the darkness.
She prayed that nothing had happened to him. But even as she was praying it seemed impossible. How could something have actually
happened? Will was her little miracle baby. He was the special guy who’d given her life purpose. After Emily had gone to kindergarten
Amy could remember how depressed she was. Emily was always so independent already, and when Amy dropped her off for her first
day she thought Emily might cry. She thought Emily might clutch on to her and say, “Don’t leave me Mommy!” All the other kids
were doing things like that. But Emily just grabbed her Barbie lunchbox and sprinted onto the playground. She shouted “Bye,
Mommy!” as she ran, but she never looked back.
Six weeks later Amy was pregnant again.
Only this time it was planned. This time she knew the hardships the upcoming months and years had in store, but she also knew
how special they would be.
She just didn’t expect that the hardships would start right away. Will was born six weeks early. He was in an incubator for
the first month of his life. Amy stood outside the window of the nursery every single day. She spent hours looking at her
son bathed in that ultraviolet light and watching those little ribs rise up and down with every breath.
But she never feared the worst. Even then she could see what a fighter he was. Because from the day he was born she could
see the glint and purpose in his eyes. She knew how special he was.
When they finally took him home Amy spent the first night with him in the nursery. She rocked for hours with him cradled in
her arms and she just stared at her perfect little miracle. She felt so proud. It was probably how Mary felt the first time
she held baby Jesus.
There had been other scary moments. The time he’d fallen out of the tree and snapped his arm in half. The day he came home
with his first black eye. The afternoon he’d wrecked his bike into a chain-link fence. Amy worried about Will, took care of
him, and mothered him after every one of those incidents. But she always knew there was nothing to worry about.
There was something special about her son.
And God doesn’t just let special people die somewhere out in the black darkness of a Kansas night, does he? If he was going
to do that, why would he have made them special in the first place?
He wouldn’t have. That’s why Amy knew her son was going to be okay. That’s why when other mothers would be frantic and fearing
the worst, Amy just sipped on her coffee and stared out in the darkness.
And as if God himself were answering Amy’s thoughts and fears, a police car pulled up the driveway right as Amy finished her
last sip of coffee. She knew who was inside the car. And she was so excited to see them that she didn’t even put her empty
cup of coffee down as she walked outside.
Will jumped out from the police car and ran up the driveway. For some reason he wasn’t wearing a shirt. He was also nicked
and cut and bruised but he didn’t seem to have any serious injuries. No broken arms or legs or anything like that. He ran
into Amy’s arms and hugged her tightly.
It felt so good to have her son back.
Amy had already planned what she was going to say to Will when she first saw him. She was going to tell him how much she loved
him. She was going to tell him how very much he meant to her. She was going to explain, probably as the tears rolled down
her cheeks, how she didn’t say kind, loving things often enough. But for some reason none of that came out of Amy’s mouth
after they hugged.
For some reason Amy firmly grabbed Will on both of his arms and asked, “Where were you? What happened? Do you have any idea
how worried I was about you? You said you were going over to Nate’s for just a few minutes. How did that turn into hours?”
“I got lost,” Will answered.
“Lost?”
“In the cornfields.”
“You cut across the cornfields?”
“Yes.”
“Even though we’ve talked over and over again about not going in there?”
“I was running late. I knew I’d get in trouble if I was late for family dinner.”
“You get in more trouble for getting lost in the cornfields.”
“I didn’t mean to get lost. Am I grounded?”
“You are beyond grounded,” Amy said, though she didn’t really know what there was beyond grounded. The electric chair? There’s
only so much punishment a mother can deliver before she reaches her limits. And besides, she wasn’t really trying to deliver
punishment, she was trying to let her son know how much she loved him. But he needed to know how dangerous things were. He
needed to know there were consequences for his actions. She wasn’t just making rules like don’t go into the cornfields because
she was the wicked witch of the west and she laughed with her flying monkeys at the thought of taking away all of his fun.
She was making those rules to protect him.
Amy looked again at her son, unsure of what to say or do next. “Why aren’t you wearing a shirt?”
“It got dirty from running.”
“What were you running from?”
“I’m not exactly sure.”
“You’re not?”
“No. There were bad things in the cornfield. But there were also good things.”
“Like what?”
“I’m not really supposed to tell you.”
“You’re not?” Amy asked.
“No. Officer Mike said he wanted to fill you in on everything that happened.”
Amy suddenly felt nauseous. It was kind of like morning sickness, at night, without being pregnant. “Honey, I’m your mother.
You can tell me anything.”
“Officer Mike was pretty serious about me not telling
any
one
any
thing. I mean, I want to tell you, but I don’t want to get grounded
and
arrested.”
As Will finished talking, Amy realized her husband was suspiciously absent. He should have jumped out of the police car and
followed right behind Will. He should have been telling her everything that had happened since they’d last seen each other.
It had been a nightmare of a night; they’d faced their worst fear, and so why didn’t he come inside and fill her in on everything?
Amy looked back towards the police car and she could see Jeff and Mike standing right in front of the car engaged in some
sort of serious conversation. It seemed like Mike was trying to convince Jeff of something. Mike’s face was stern and serious
while Jeff looked tired and defeated. Even from where Amy was standing she could see the bags under Jeff’s eyes. So what was
Mike telling Jeff? Was he trying to keep Amy out of the loop just like Will? Why would they be doing that? What could have
happened out there? What didn’t they want her to know?
It didn’t matter. They were kidding themselves if they thought they could hide the truth from her. “Go inside honey,” Amy
told Will. “Get those cuts cleaned out and get a shirt on.”
“Okay,” Will said and went inside.
Amy walked towards the police car and she heard the tail end of the conversation as Mike said, “ — not the parents at the
school. And especially not your wife.”
“Especially not your wife what?” Amy asked.
Amy walked out of the kitchen holding a kettle full of blisteringly hot Earl Grey tea. She poured Mike and Jeff a cup. They
would need tea. Kansas days in the early fall are still warm, but by night things begin to frost over, making summer seem
like a distant memory. The tea would make them warm and rational and calm enough to tell her what had happened.
“Thank you, Mrs. Henderson,” Mike said, after Amy finished filling his cup.
“You’re welcome,” Amy said. She sat on the couch next to her husband. The men didn’t say anything. They just kept sipping
their tea. Apparently, they didn’t realize that this was the moment they should start filling her in on what happened. This
shouldn’t have been a shock to Amy. Jeff was usually horrible at reading the moment. He didn’t understand the right moments
of when to say “I love you,” or to ask her how her day was, or when to turn off the TV so they could catch up on their lives.
Whenever Amy pointed this out, Jeff gave some Neanderthal response like, “How am I supposed to read your mind?”
Amy always tried to explain that he wasn’t supposed to read her mind; he was just supposed to be a little bit empathetic.
If he used a hint of intuition he could tell the right moments. And when you feel the moment it’s so much more rewarding.
It’s so much better for your husband to say things like, “Honey, I’m so lucky to have you,” when it’s not prompted. When it
comes out of the blue. But intuition and reading the situation would have to wait for another night.
Tonight, she needed to know what was going on with her son. Even when she had tucked Will into bed, he still wouldn’t tell
her anything more. And if he wasn’t going to tell her, they would have to. “What happened out there?” Amy asked. Then she
looked at Mike and asked, “Why did you tell my son not to tell me anything? He said you were going to ‘fill me in on the situation.’
And so I’ve made your tea and now I’m waiting for you to fill me in.”
“All right Mrs. Henderson. Your son was lost deep, three-quarters of a mile at least, in those cornfields,” Mike said. “He
was running around trying to find his way out for hours. When one of my deputies found your son he was asleep. After we found
him and woke him up, he started to say some unsettling things.”
“Unsettling things.”
“He started talking about the rapture, Amy,” Jeff said. “And I’ve never seen him look or sound the way he did when he was
out there. I can’t even really explain it. It wasn’t even Will. It was like he was someone else.”
“What was he saying?”
“He was making some pretty bold claims,” Mike said.
“He said there were going to be three signs,” Jeff added, “and once those three signs were complete the rapture would come.
It was crazy. It didn’t really make sense.”
“How did he know there would be three signs?”
“Some face told him,” Jeff said. “He saw some face made out of corn or something and it told him all of this.”
“So what were the signs?”
Jeff and Mike looked at each other the way a couple who’d been married for years would. They were talking without words. The
problem was, Jeff was Amy’s husband. He should be exchanging secret looks with her, not Mike. They were still covering something.
“Don’t look at each other, look at me,” Amy said. “What were the signs?”
“He only told us one of them,” Jeff said. “He told us the school would be destroyed.”
“He what?”
“In three days,” Jeff said. “He told us the school would be destroyed in three days and that is the first sign.”
“What does that even mean?” Amy asked.
“Honestly, Mrs. Henderson, nothing,” Mike said. “Your son was out there for hours. He was traumatized. He could have seen
a lot of things but that doesn’t mean they were real. It just means he was scared. He probably dreamed it all. And that’s
why I wanted to fill you in. We need to all work together to convince Will that he was dreaming. We probably need to keep
him home from school tomorrow. Then this will all go away.”
“What if he wasn’t dreaming?”
“Honey, come on — ”
“No, what if he wasn’t dreaming? What if he really saw something out there?”
“And what if it was just a dream?” Mike asked. “In the age of school shootings and every other kind of fear we can’t have
your son running around telling everyone the school’s going to be destroyed. That’s going to freak this entire town out. The
bottom line is your son had a traumatic night. But he’s home and he’s safe. We should all be thankful for that. Let’s take
the next day or two to help him calm down. If he’s still convinced he saw something after that we’ll go from there.”
“It’s the right thing to do honey,” Jeff said. “He’s still only eleven and we’re his parents. It’s our job to help him know
what’s real and what isn’t.”
The conversation went on in circles for a while until they finally agreed that it was in everyone’s best interest to keep
Will home from school tomorrow. If anything, he’d had a traumatic night and needed some rest. Once that was agreed on, Mike
left the house. Amy felt like an oppressive weight left with him. Who was he to boss them around anyway? It wasn’t like Jeff
ever talked to him anymore. So why did he suddenly care so much, Amy thought as she brushed her teeth.
“I know this is scary,” Jeff said with a toothbrush crammed in his mouth, “but it’s late and things seem so much worse late
at night. Let’s get some sleep. By tomorrow night we’ll all be laughing about this.”
“Okay,” Amy said as she bit down on her own toothbrush.
Laughing about this?
Was he serious? Amy rinsed out her mouth with Cool Mint Listerine, thinking she should cut Jeff a little slack. He meant
well. He’d been through a tough night himself and he had to get some sleep for work tomorrow. He was just trying to be a good
husband. He was trying to make her feel better. But it wasn’t working. She felt worse after everything he said, but he was
trying and that was worth something.
After Jeff went to bed Amy couldn’t sleep.
So she stood in Will’s doorway and watched him sleep. He was just as perfect as the day he was born. She still smiled as she
watched his miraculous little lungs slightly move the covers up and down. He made the cutest little snoring sound as he slept.
And as Amy stood in the doorway she felt like she could finally relax. She felt maybe Jeff was right; the sun would come up
tomorrow and everything would be okay.