What We Saw

Chapter Six

I got up before everyone else and noticed that the four ‘Missing Dog’ posters had become twelve. Without the aid of a computer, this feat would’ve taken him a while. I tiptoed around the room and grabbed hold of a bundle of the posters. I’d decided it’d be best if I told a few of the neighbours about the disappearance so they knew what they were looking for. I should also probably tell Emily, seeing as we hadn’t seen her since the day before. Even though I grumbled when it happened, I missed her knocking at the door at that early hour.

The first place I pinned up one of Granddad’s home-crafted flyers was outside the caravan at the top of the road, as this was in the direct eye line of any car or person who happened to turn onto our stretch. It was good to get out of the caravan on my own. It felt like the other times I’d visited without Adam. Sometimes it had been better like that. I walked a bit further, around the corner and up the road opposite the entrance to the wasteland. It was best if I got out of the way for a while. Adam would be able to handle things in his own way and would hopefully resolve the problem with Granddad. I didn’t like arguments. They reminded me of bad times back home.

I stopped by at Emily’s after I’d pinned five posters up in various eye-grabbing spots around the site. Her bedroom blinds were closed. Strange. It wasn’t like Emily not to be up and about, seeing as it was now approaching 8:00 am. I was about to leave when I heard a voice call out from somewhere around the front of the van. It was Emily’s dad.

‘If you stare at our van any longer, someone might think you’re a statue, kid.’

Emily’s dad had an interesting presence. He constantly wore a frown that dug into his forehead. He was short, well-built, and had a blank expression across his face. His eyes were as blue as the sea I’d seen on holiday in Turkey, and his mouth flat and immobile, as if smiling were a physical impossibility.

‘I—I was just…’ I hesitated.

‘Emily’s ill. Got a cold. Been in bed all day yesterday. She’ll be back out again soon,’ he said.

‘Um thanks, Mr. Beadsley… I was just, er, wondering if you’d heard about my dog?’

He walked over to me and snatched a poster from my hands. ‘The old mutt’s done one? Shame, kid. I’ll let you know if I see her. Can’t have got far with old legs like hers.’

I tried to laugh. He turned his back to me, walking towards his caravan. The sound of voices escaped the living room as he opened his door, the television blaring as usual. They always seemed to keep the front curtains shut. It was so gloomy in there. I worried that if they left the door open too long some of that darkness might weasel its way out into the caravan site and engulf us all. I didn’t really like going round to Emily’s van.

I set off with my remaining posters towards Donald’s cabin. I wondered if he’d seen anything since yesterday and whether he was less busy today. It wasn’t like him to go so quiet.

Donald wasn’t around today. I tried his caravan before moving on to his cabin, but the door was padlocked shut. I hadn’t seen him since he acted all weird when Carla went missing yesterday. The cabin itself was hardly easy on the eye. The wood was like dark mud with moss sprouting out of the stony roof. He had made the garden nice though, with a few gnomes, a water feature, and various arrangements of plants and flowers. We had never been inside the cabin. I figured there were top-secret documents in there, mystery-related. Or photographs, developing like they did on washing lines in the olden days. He’d showed us some in the past: beautiful pictures of the sun, close-ups of animals. Had he gone to try to find the stag from the other day and got lost out there or something? That wasn’t like Donald. He knew this place better than anyone.

I returned to the caravan around mid-morning. Adam pushed his spoon into his Coco Pops, and Granddad sat upright on the end of the chair, clicking his teeth against one another like he always did when he was annoyed about something.

I popped into the kitchen and spoke quietly to Gran. ‘Have they spoken yet?’

She shook her head. ‘You know what they’re both like. Stubborn as anything. Give them a bit more time.’

Gran fried some eggs for her own breakfast.

‘Are you… okay?’ I asked.

Gran nodded. ‘Just think your cousin forgets that we’ve all lost in this, sometimes. But he’s hurting, and we can’t blame him. We do our best, love.’ She turned to me and smiled, her eyes watering. ‘And they say retirement’s supposed to be a happy time, eh?’

A lump grew in my throat and I tried to force a laugh. ‘Well, I went to put some of, um, Granddad’s posters up.’

Gran pulled her hands out of the soapy water of the washing up bowl and wrapped them around me, hugging me. The wet patches seeped through my shirt as her fingernails dug into my back.

‘You’re a good’un. You’re both good’uns,’ she said, frogs leaping round her throat. ‘Carla will come back. I promise you. And when she does, we’ll have a day on the front in Morecambe with her. We can go to the park.’

*

The following day started a little better. When I got up, Adam and Granddad already sat around the table: Granddad with his paper glued to his hand, Adam with his spoon ceremonially dunked in what must have been his fiftieth bowl of Coco Pops this week. Gran hung some washing up outside to dry in the warmth of the sun. She looked down the path, distracted, and I heard her greeting someone—Emily. Seeing her here was a relief, not only because it’d been so long by her standards, but because of the events of the last two days. She skipped up the steps, her brown hair waving in the breeze. A smile covered her face as if her absence the last couple of days hadn’t even occurred.

‘Hello, boys!’ she said, as she marched through the door.

My granddad looked towards her and smiled. ‘I’ll leave you three to it,’ he said, before heading into the back room, paper still glued to his palms. Was he addicted to his newspaper or something? I found the everyday news a bit boring. I mean, every now and then there would be a good, interesting story, something mysterious, like that girl going missing the other day and the stuff about asteroids and meteors getting close to Earth. But a lot of the time, it was all about money rising and falling, or something, or maybe somebody’s cat reading out a sentence. I didn’t care if a cat talked; there were far more intriguing mysteries in the world.

Adam raised his eyebrows and stirred his Coco Pops, peering at Emily. ‘And where have you been these last two days?’ he asked, with a fake adult tone to his speech.

I looked towards Emily.

She scratched at the side of her head before folding her arms. ‘Oh, don’t worry about me.’ She tossed her hair out from her eyes. ‘I wasn’t very well for a day, and we went up to Bareslow yesterday. So I’m sorry I’ve not been around.’

Adam continued to hold the silence, smug smile across his face. He didn’t respond, and Emily continued to gaze at him, her eyes narrowing, craving a reply.

She finally broke the silence. ‘Look, I know about Carla. My dad told me. I’m really sorry. Have you been out to look for her yet?’

Adam gawped and rolled his eyes. ‘What do you think? Our dog goes missing and we just leave it?’

‘Okay, drop the sarcasm, mister. I’m only taking an interest.’ A slight blush deepened in her cheeks.

Adam continued to stir his Coco Pops. It seemed obvious to me how much he was loving this power over Emily.

I decided to intervene. ‘We went to look for her the other day and put a few posters up, but no one’s seen her at all.’

‘Even Donald?’ she said.

‘Even Donald. Although he hasn’t been around a lot lately either. I’m starting to come to terms with the fact that we might not see her again.’

Adam slammed his spoon against the table. ‘No, we will find her,’ he said. ‘We are going to find her. We lost her, so we’ll find her. She’s out there somewhere, and she knows these woods better than any of us. Don’t be so frigging depressing.’

‘Okay, I… I’m sorry, Adam, I’m just being realistic. Especially after the last time.’

This wasn’t the first time a dog had gone missing around here; Mr. Wilson’s dog from across the road did a runner a while back according to Granddad and never turned up again. Adam had a theory that the strange man and woman in the caravan near the big steps kidnapped her to do some evil scientific tests, like sewing human arms to her and trying to create a monster, all because they’d told us their grandson had got an A in science. But it was a possibility. Nothing should ever be ruled out.

Adam took the lead, standing on the chair like a composer in front of his orchestra. ‘We are going to go out today, and we are going to find her, no matter what,’ he said, waving his milk-stained spoon above his head. ‘Are you with me, soldiers?’

‘I’d love to, but we’re going to Morecambe in a bit,’ Emily said.

Adam let his legs give way and clonked the spoon on Emily’s head. She clutched it and pretended she was hurt before tickling his tummy. Great, I make the peace again, and Adam gets the giggles.

‘Ah, you letdown,’ he said. ‘Well, me and lanky loser here can try our best, as long as he doesn’t have to do any running.’

My face went red as I sucked my bottom lip. ‘Funny, Adam, funny. As long as you don’t have to reach anything high up, with that height problem you’ve got going on.’

Emily held her hands to her mouth to hide the grin. Adam’s eyes twitched as he struggled to find a comeback.

We played around in the garden for a while, kicking the football at the concrete wall. The sky beamed down on us with its steel-grey gaze. After we finished our first game of football, Emily had to leave to go to Morecambe for the day. She seemed reluctant to leave us, begging Adam to come with her. He took this power as a compliment.

‘Emily, we have more important matters on our hands than your day trip. We have to find Carla.’

Emily released Adam’s arm without a word, turned towards her caravan, and left.

*

Adam and I decided to trek out to the woods around 1:00 pm, when Granddad used to take Carla for her afternoon walks. Granddad offered to go with us, but we told him we’d rather go it alone. We didn’t want to tell him how deep in the woods we planned to go. If we did, he’d end up coming with us and ruining our adventure. Instead, we kept things quiet and told him that we were only going up to the opening of the woods. We told him we would take the binoculars along so we could stand on the edge of the wasteland and look out to sea.

We had lunch, beans and mini sausages on toast, and left. I carried my school bag over one shoulder, like all the cooler kids did. Adam wore the binoculars round his neck like a new accessory.

‘You ready for an adventure, cuz?’ he said.

I nodded. We marched across the stones in our yard and headed up the road, towards the woods and towards the unknown.