Daylight Savings, 1992

The smells wafted from the homes as Adam peddled past them. Laundry softener, garlic, engine oil from the open garage. On top of it all, the smell of impending rain from the clouds even now moving in, making the day darker. Paper skeletons and fake cobwebs, now mixing with the real deal, still clung to a few houses while the fresh-rotten smell of old pumpkin hit if you got too close to the trash cans already being put out for Monday’s morning collection.

The rule was always to come home when the streetlights came on, Adam knew that left only a few more hours.

The little park at the end of the street had about 8 kids hanging from swings or monkey bars. A few of the older ones sat languidly on the top steps of the play structure. Adam looked around for his friend Sarah. A kid or two waved to him but mostly they were all busily into their games.

He’d just talked to Sarah on the phone: “See you there. I’m leaving now.” But he didn’t see Sarah or her bike in the usual spots. Removing the bag from the basket on his bike, he headed over to the picnic bench by the swings to wait.

His mom would be mad if he wasn’t home soon. She might even already be on the front porch looking up and down the street for him. The streetlights had come on minutes ago. The sky glowed cerulean blue in the cracks of the clouds hanging heavy overhead. Somewhere over the hills west, the rumbling of thunder began.

The other kids had left the park and headed home to finish weekend homework and dig into dinner. The park was hushed now, just the rustle of wind in the leaves and, from afar, the sounds of a car as someone drove by a block over. Adam had lost track of time waiting for Sarah and had eventually joined the other kids at the park. Freeze tag had evolved into a more complex game and Halloween conversations still dominated—Did you see…? Do you remember…? Did you get…?

Before long the shadows were slanting and Adam remembered that Sarah was supposed to be there. But where was she? Should he go looking? As the last kids left the park and ran up the street, he felt exposed and lonely. He should go home too. But he should have gone home a while ago and tried to call Sarah’s. Maybe he should have gone over to his friend’s house around the block. He could almost see the top of Sarah’s house peeking from several houses away. Would he be in trouble for not looking for her? He could hear his older sister even now. What do you mean you didn’t try calling or looking for her? Or his mother. Connie called and said you never went to see where Sarah was. What were you actually doing this whole time?

He didn’t want to go home. He felt ashamed but wasn’t sure why. All he’d done was lost track of time. Sarah was probably at home.

“Can’t believe it’s not even six yet,” Adam’s dad said, standing by the slider looking out into the pitch darkness. Dinner was over and his mother was standing at the sink, glasses and plates clinking into the sink, when the yellow phone on the wall rang.

Adam sat motionless at the table. Maybe it was Sarah. He bolted out and grabbed the phone before his mom or dad could reach it.

“Hello?” he said too eagerly.

“Adam? Adam, it’s Connie, Sarah’s mom.” The woman on the phone sounded breathless, almost angry, and Adam regretted answering the phone. He was silent.

“Is Sarah over there?”

It took Adam a moment to answer. “N-n-no.”

A sharp intake of breath on the other end of the line was all he could hear. There were voices in the background too, but Adam couldn’t tell what they were saying.

“When’s the last time you saw her today?” Sarah’s mom asked quickly.

“I—I didn’t.”

Adam’s mom was standing next to him now, concern on her face. “Who is it?”

“Okay, let me ask you just a few more times, just in case you remember anything.” The police officer sat at the table next to Adam. His mom sat across. In the living room, his dad paced back and forth by the front door, which was swung open now despite the cool air. Outside on the sidewalk, flashlights bounced up and down this way and that. People were gathered in small groups under streetlights and on driveways. It looked like Halloween all over again, except Adam knew it wasn’t.

“She didn’t say if she was meeting anyone or stopping anywhere before the park?”

“No. She just said, ‘See you there.’ That’s what she always says.”

The officer nodded as if this made total sense.

“What about in the past few days, like on Halloween. Did she say if she had any new friends or a new place she likes to go?”

This was a new question, and the officer was looking at him like he had asked the best question in the world. Adam went to say no, because his answer to all their questions had been no so far, but he stopped.

“Adam, you need to think,” his mom prodded.

“I know,” Adam said. He felt angry now. Why was he being asked all these questions when he didn’t know the answer? As if he had done something wrong. It seemed like his mom was angry at him.

“No,” he began again and stopped. The officer at the table leaned forward.

“Even if it’s a secret,” the officer said low, so that just Adam could hear him. He gave the side eye to Adam’s mom. “I won’t tell anyone else, either.”

Adam took a breath. “Okay, there was this person who was supposed to give us the best candy ever…”

Adam pulled the sweater closer to him. The temperature had gone from a bit nippy to downright cold and he should have worn his jacket. But inside the house he had felt hot and sweaty at the table talking to the police. Everyone had been looking at him. Everyone seemed angry.

He jiggled the flashlight that kept blinking on and off.

They were driving up the road toward the park the same way Adam had ridden his bike earlier that day. Other groups with flashlights were still headed here and there, but most were standing on porches now, pulling their jackets close around them. At the end of the street, several police cars were parked, lights on but not flashing. Their purple hue casting on everything.

First they went to the park and Adam showed the officer where he waited for Sarah. And then Adam showed the officer the way that Sarah usually came from her house to the park and all the places they would stop in between: the small wash where they threw pennies for luck. The strange green box that had electrical warning stickers. The hole in the hedges in front of the old lady’s house that you can crawl into. Adam showed the officer all of these places that were normal for him and Sarah and a lot of other kids too.

Finally they got to what they called the New Place. Adam had only been here once. He didn’t like it. Something about it gave him the creeps even before tonight. It was an old shed set deep onto an abandoned property. Adam wasn’t even sure how to describe how to get there. That’s why the officer took him along. He needed to tell him the way as they went.

“You kids came out here alone?” Adam’s father’s voice sounded high and tight from the back seat of the cruiser. He never heard him sound like that before.

“I didn’t like it here. I told her not to come here,” Adam said, his voice barely a whisper. 

When he answered, Adam’s dad sounded soft and tired, “I know, buddy. It’s okay. You didn’t do anything wrong.” 

The officer walked out of the shed speaking into his radio. He looked up and thought his face was blank; it was tight. In the headlights of his patrol car, where Adam and his dad waited, he looked much older than he had earlier.

He spoke for a few more moments and then got back into the patrol car. He closed the door but he didn’t start the car.

“Another patrol car will be along to take you both home soon,” the officer said without looking at them.

It was the latest Adam had been up in a long time. No one had bothered to check if his homework was done or if he had brushed his teeth. His dad had announced it was bedtime and walked him upstairs.

Outside, people were still moving around, talking, awake, even though many of the lights had gone out. Like Adam’s bedroom light. He was still awake though. Earlier it had felt like Halloween with everyone walking around in the dark. Now it felt like Christmas Eve where he couldn’t sleep. Except instead of feeling happy, he felt scared and nervous.

He could hear the voices of his parents downstairs still awake too. Sometimes their voices got louder like they were angry. Doors closed from time to time. One time the sound of a police officer’s radio was inside the house. In the dark, quiet of the night, through the window he thought he could hear the sound of someone screaming from time to time.