What He Did

“Hey, did you hear what he did?”

The whispers were strong and sharp. Yet Arthur ignored them, focused on the task at hand. One by one, he stapled posters to the walls, telephone poles, sticking them in the windows of any shop that would let him. It had been five days since he’d seen his darling daughter. Since he’d stood on the porch with the light on, waiting for her to come home.

Amelia wasn’t like other kids. She was quiet and cautious. She cared so much, so deeply, for everyone around her but was sometimes too scared to show it. She was kind, so very kind… he missed her so much. It had only taken him an hour to realise something was wrong. But it wasn’t until the sun had set that he thought to call anyone. He’d forced her to go to the park, to play with her friends. He’d done this. If only he’d listened, let her stay inside that day, to draw, to read, to do anything that meant she’d be safe at home.

“Can you believe he’s out here? The audacity.”

He saw the nearby woman shake her head, but she immediately looked away the second he made eye contact. A grimace spread across his face, but he bit his tongue and continued. He knew he was guilty, maybe not in the way they all thought, but guilt nonetheless.

Arthur made his way back to his old truck, jumping in the driver's seat and taking a moment to rest his head on the steering wheel. Outside, it began to rain, the steady drumming on his roof the only sound that could be heard. He looked up to the rear-view mirror. He looked like a mess. He tried to adjust his greying hair, to flatten his unkempt beard. No wonder he kept getting looks. His eyes dropped slightly to the bracelet hanging from the mirror. It was pink and purple, with glass beads, and a silver half heart hanging heavy in the middle. He took it down, holding it in his hand, rubbing his thumb over the heart. The tears fell before he could stop them. He sobbed in that seat, hunched over, clutching the tiny bracelet. Oh, his poor Amelia.

​

“Surprised he showed.”

Arthur refused to look at the small group of men making baseless accusations. They didn’t matter; nothing did, apart from finding his dear Amelia. They could say whatever they wanted about him, about what he might have done. He couldn’t care less. The group was smaller than last time, but still enough to make a difference. The first day, most of his neighbours had gathered to look. They spread through the forest with torches, searched every nook and cranny until the sun rose. The next day they continued to look, going door to door, asking anybody for any shred of evidence as to where she might be. But then, every day since then, the group dwindled. People began to talk—as they do—about what might have really happened. Maybe she did come home. Maybe she never went out at all. Maybe he’d had one too many beers, and Amelia had simply been too much.

He loved his daughter. So, so much. And if finding her meant putting up with whispering folk, then so be it. He wasn’t going to stop. Not until she was home safe.

The rain hadn’t let up. So, with umbrellas and torches ready, they once again headed into the vast forest, looking for any clue that could help. Arthur began with the park. It was small and isolated, just off the path from the church. It had seen better days, and since Amelia had gone missing, no other kids had gone to play. He checked under the slide, behind bushes, and as he ventured deeper into the woods, he kept shouting.

“Amelia! Amelia, where are you?!”

He got no response, though even if she were near, he doubted she could hear it over the rain. The drizzle had transformed into a downpour. And, by the sounds of it, would soon turn into a raging storm. The ground had become muddy, with a large puddle spreading across his way, and any hope of finding a footprint was quickly washed away. But he couldn’t relent, not now. So, wiping off his face, he continued.

Howling winds whirled around him, and rain spat at his face, obscuring his view. The sun had long since set, and no one else was out here but him. Looming trees surrounded him, each similar enough to the last that he began to struggle with his directions. Had he just come from the left, or was that the way he was heading? No, no, he remembered that bush, it was taller than the others, right? He looked down, hoping to find his direction, but his footprints were a mess, muddled together in the soaked earth beneath him.

“Amelia! Where are you?!”

He pulled out his phone, holding it close to his face to avoid the rain. He squinted at it, reading the time. It was past eleven, and by the looks of it, the storm wasn’t going to relent any time soon. Maybe he should head back. Should start the search again tomorrow, when it's light out, and the storm has passed.

But what about Amelia?

What if she was out here, cold, hungry, waiting for her dad to bring her home? What if she was in a ditch, bleeding out? Or in a basement, begging to be let go? She needed him. And he wouldn’t keep her waiting any longer.

Arthur pushed forward, against the wind, against the rain. Lightning crackled overhead, but he paid it no mind. He pushed forward. Come hell or high water, he would find her.

Clink. Clink.

What was that? Despite the roaring thunder, he could have sworn he heard something.

Clink. Clink.

There it was again. A sound—he was sure of it. It was like metal, swinging against something else. He headed towards the sound, curious as to what it could be.

Clink. Clink.

He came to a small clearing, one he hadn’t seen before. Around him were various bits and pieces. Tools, wheelbarrows, piles of dirt and rock, and a swinging flag hanging from a pole. What could this be? Clearly it had been long abandoned; the tools were coated in rust, and the area was so isolated that it would be difficult for just about anyone to access. Arthur looked around, although the pelting rain made it hard, but to his dismay, there was nothing. Just an abandoned site, with no sign of Amelia.

He turned to leave, to head back into the dense forest, continuing his search for his daughter. But as he walked away, something caught his eye. Something pink. He bent down, picking the object up. He wiped away the mud, holding it close to see. Half a silver heart hung in front of him. One that matched perfectly with his own. Amelia. She had been here.

“Amelia, baby, I’m here!”

He frantically looked around, eyes darting across the clearing, trying to see anything that could lead him to her. He searched under wheelbarrows, behind trees, desperate for a shred of evidence. But as he peered inside a large barrel, one half filled with water, he slipped. He didn’t have time to brace for impact, leaving gravity to take hold as he slammed into the earth.

For a moment he didn’t move, the air knocked from his lungs. When he opened his eyes, a sharp pain in his shoulder jolted him upright. What he hadn’t seen before was the small ledge by the site, something obscured by the night and rain. But that’s not all. There was a hole, obscured by a wall of soil. It was small, covered by leaves and debris and thin iron bars. But with a slight tug, he realised that it could be opened. He lifted the hatch, peering down, shining his torch for a better view. Not much could be seen; it appeared to be a narrow tunnel beneath, something that must connect to the old mines. But it seemed to be flooded from the storm. He looked around, but sees no other entrance. So, with a quick breath, he jumped in.

Water splashed around his boots as he landed, rising up to his calves. He looked around, using the torch to light his way. There wasn't much to see: long dirt walls with rotting wooden supports. It was a miracle this place was still standing. He kept walking until he came to a wider tunnel, with tracks lining the bottom. He saw a couple of minecarts, some half full, and an old, burnt-out lantern. Water dripped around him, echoing throughout the halls, until he heard something.

Crying.

“Amelia, baby, is that you?”

The crying quickly stopped, but a moment later he heard a sniffle.

“Daddy? Are you here?”

He raced towards her voice, wading through the rising water.

“Amelia, honey, I’m coming.”

Just when he thought he found her, he slipped. Somewhere beneath the water must’ve been a hole, or a shallow ditch. He heard the sound of his ankle snap as he yelled into the dark expanse.

“Shit!”

Pain ripped through him as he lay in the water, gritting his teeth. He could hear a slight ringing, and could vaguely taste bile rising through his throat.

“Daddy?”

He turned, looking to his right. There, curled in a small ledge just above the water, was Amelia. His Amelia. His baby girl.

“Amelia, I’m here, I’m here.” He comforted her as he tried to stand. He gripped the wooden supports, using them to pull himself up. But before he could finish, a body crashed into him, knocking him back into the water.

“Daddy, you came! I was so scared!” she sobbed into his jacket, holding on for dear life. He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close.

“I know, baby, I know.” He held her tighter than he ever had before. “I’m here now, I’ve got you.”

She rubbed her tears away, looking at him in the dim light.

“I saw a rabbit, and I followed it. But I got lost.” She continued to cry. “And then—and then I fell in here, and I got stuck.”

“I’m so sorry, baby. I’ve got you.”

He stood, despite the screaming pain in his foot. Compared to what Amelia had suffered, this was nothing. He picked her up, grabbed the torch, and headed to the exit. As he did, he spared a look at her makeshift camp. There, alongside some food wrappers and a now empty water bottle, was her backpack. He’d never been more glad that she was always so prepared.

As he walked, her tears transitioned to sniffles, but she refused to let him go. It wasn’t until they’d made it out of the tunnel and he called for help that she let him put her down.

It took a while for help to come. The area was so isolated and dense that it was difficult to reach. But eventually, help came, and they were able to bring both of them back to a clearing, where police and an ambulance waited, alongside curious onlookers and reporters. They loaded him into the back, alongside Amelia, who refused to be left alone.

“It’s okay, Amelia, I’m not going anywhere,” he said.

“You promise?” she sniffled.

He reached into his pocket and pulled something out. Her missing charm bracelet. He handed it to her. “I promise.”

A few minutes later, the ambulance was loaded up. They left the forest as the rain began to fade, and night turned to day.

“Hey, did you hear what he did?”