Absconding I - Michael Sheridan

Max has the hose.  He’s standing at the bird bath spraying water in.  He is soaked.  There is mud everywhere.  He is having a great time.  This is one of the ways we often spend the afternoon.

Max has his corner here in the garden that he likes to play in.  It’s near the back of the house.  I usually pull up a garden chair about 10 meters away, nearer to the front of the house.  Close enough that I can watch what’s going on and talk to him, but far enough away that I can get out of the way before I get shot by a random swing of the hose.

The yard is only fenced on one side, so I need to be here.  Max is in the habit of just wandering next door when he gets bored or distracted.  They have a hose too.  He might also wander further.  Or he might start pulling out plants.  Or he might encounter the wildlife.

He’s been at it a while today.  I’ve been listening to an audio book.  I’ve got up a couple of times to bring him back from next door or to untangle our hose.  This is how it goes until he gets too wet and too cold.  That’s what’s happening now.

He comes back to me shivering and howling.  His tolerance for being cold is now spent.  He wants to go inside.  If I had tried to bring him in just 5 minutes ago, he would have been irate, but now he’s done.

“Finished?”, I say, waving my thumb to make the sign for finished.  He is non-verbal, so we want him to know that sign language is an option too.  Then opening the door and guiding him in I say, “Bathtub!”

Max starts done to hall to the bathroom.

Then I go down to the back and turn the hose off.  I go inside to run the bath for him.  He’s not in the bathroom.  “Max?”, I say.  “Hey, Max.  Bath.  Where are you?”

I check the likely places.  Laundry, garage, upstairs.  Not here.  He could have slipped back out.  I check back outside where we were playing.  Not there either.

He often runs off to explore.  But he always goes either to the hose in our yard, or that of the houses either side.  And usually when he is seeking stimulation.  Right now, he should be exhausted and wanting calm.  A relaxing warm bath, not more exploration and mischief.

Because I know where he goes when he escapes, it should be easy to find him again.  I walk around both neighbours’ houses.  Not there.  I check back around inside.  He must be hiding here somewhere.  I can’t hear him.  I can’t hear noisy toys.  I can’t find him anywhere.

I turn the bath off.  He’s not in the house.  It’s been a few minutes now.  I go outside again.

Outside there are a few neighbours around, just doing what they do.  I head towards the nearest one, a few houses up the hill.  “Hey, Stewart, has Max wandered past in the last few minutes.”

“No.”

“No problem.  I better go and get looking.”  I say and turn to walk off.

“Wait", he asks, "Why?"

"Oh!", I say casually, "He's wandered off."

"I’ll help”, he says sounding anxious.

“It's fine.  It’s only been a minute.”

“I’ll get my bike so I can cover more ground.”

That escalated far too quickly.

“Thanks”, I say, feeling bewildered and a little deflated.  I want to tell him that is not what he thinks, but I also don’t want to waste time doing that.  Max can only be getting further away.

Stewart goes past with his bike.  No helmet, I note.  He wizzes down the hill.  Gone...  I don't have time ot dwell on what he may or may not be doing.  I head in the other direction.

Another neighbour.  As calmly as possible I ask, “Hey, has Max just wandered past this way?”  I’m really trying to emphasise the recency, and the lack of gravity.  I am trying to not do anything to cause further alarm.  I’m not ready to ask for help.  That's still premature.  Having someone get on a bike to cover ground was way too premature.  I want to avoid more overreactions.

“OH NO!”, says Michelle, sounding slightly breathless.

OH NO, I think, but for a diferent reason feeling exasperated by yet another over reaction.

And then, without a word, she drops everything to go look. 

Umm...  Where are you going? 

Immediately, Michelle runs into the neighbour from the house beyond her's, and John is now looking too.

Later, I’ll discover John exploring drains.  John.  What are you doing? You’re 80.  Max doesn’t even like drains.

A third neighbour wanders by.  There’s a small reserve next to our house.  Julie’s house is on the other side, facing another street.  “Hi Julie, Max wandered off a few minutes ago.  Did he go your way?”  Then I add, “It’s only been a few minutes.  I’m trying not to cause alarm yet.  Phone me if he walks past.”

Julie explains that she’s going for a walk anyhow.  She’ll look out for him.

By now it’s been 10-15 minutes since he left.  The playground could be within that range.  I’m going to hop in the car and drive over and sees if he went there, or somewhere along the way.

“Hi Michael, I’ve put it put on Facebook for you.”  It's someone walking by.  This person lives two blocks away.  I think I fixed her computer once.  I often see her about the place, but I can't quite remember her name right now.

"Oh!", I say, trying to mask my horror, "Thanks."

Oh God!  No!, I'm thinking.  Word has spread!  And now it's on facebook!

Everyone is doing stuff.  Little of it is useful.  And their all talking about it.  Someone has missed the point here.  It's 3 o'clock in the afternoon.  It's spring.  It's a small village in the middle of nowhere.  Everyone knows him. 

What if Elizabeth finds out that I’ve lost Max?  I’d rather just get Max back so I can tell her it was a normal uneventful day.

At the playground, I approach a parent.  “I’ve lost a child.  Just wondering if he might have come through here?”  I don’t know them, but they live in the estate here somewhere.  I leave them with my business card and instructions to call me if a child wanders in there alone.

I’d better look at Facebook.  The lady who told me she'd posted there meant our community residents’ page.  Yep.  It’s there.  Aarrghhh!

I’d better phone the police now before word spreads to them and I am asked explain why I never reported it myself.  I’m most frustrated because I should be looking, but I am actually managing the crowd.  The help is actually distracting me from looking.  And I havn't even asked for the help.

I phone the police.  Five more minutes wasted.  At least I can do this hands free while I'm driving.

I phone Elizabeth.  I need to tell her before she hears it from someone else.  Or worse.  Reads it on facebook.  But I really don’t want to make a big deal of it.  I’d prefer she stayed at work.  I’m just worried she’ll hear it from someone else and panic.

Then my phone rings.  It’s Julie.  Max is in the next street.  A few hundred meters from home.  I drive back that way, phoning the police as I go to call them off.

I find Max.  He is hosing a house.  He’s having a good time.  He really needs a nappy.  It's bulging and sliding down.  He doesn’t want to come.  It seems like this is the best hose he has ever seen.  The nozzle is on a wand.

I wrangle him into the back of the car so I can change his nappy.  Then move him to his car seat.  I'm ready to drive off.  I want to go find food, coffee and serenity.  I should propably go close the doors on the house.  I left them open in case Max came home and wanted to get in.

As I drive off I see that the police are coming my way.  There are two cars.  I feel a strong urge to just run from them.  I try to wave and drive past, but they stop me.  I explain that I have him and we're going home.  They need a statement.  Max is screaming.  He is irrate about beign reemoved from the hose.  He's probably hungry too.  It has been hours since he ate and his mood is exaserbated by hunger.

As quickly as I can, I give the police what they want.  Window to window with our veichles idling adjacent.  Max is howling.

We zip home.  Max gets a nappy and clothes.  We sneak out.  I call off any neighbours I see on the way out.  Max and I drive off to find dinner.