The World More Full of Weeping Read Online Free PDF

night between. Everyone in town
was looking for you. There was no Search and Rescue in
those days, but once word got out . . .” He gestured back
at the house. “Your mom and Claire made sandwiches and
coffee. Kept everyone going.”
    Like father like son.
    â€œI don’t understand how I could forget something like
that.”
    Turning his head sharply, John pointed at the barn.
“They’re coming out.”
    The halogen lights of the supply truck swept down
the driveway, blinding the men, fixing them in a pool of
brightness in the midst of the gaining dark.

    The thought came to Brian as he was on the edge of sleep
after his first day with Carly. It forced his eyes open, and he
felt his heart jump.
    We didn’t say when we would meet.
    Everything about his last few minutes with Carly had
been so strange — her silence, the flowers — that he hadn’t
even thought about setting a time for their meeting the
next morning.
    It filled him with a sinking sense of dread: what if they
missed each other? What if she came and he wasn’t there?
Would she wait? For how long? Or would she just give up
and assume he wasn’t coming?
    The questions kept circling in his head. The thought of
missing Carly, of maybe not seeing her, filled him with a
sadness he had never felt before.
    That Saturday had been one of the best days of his life. He
had never met anyone like Carly before: someone who loved
the woods as much as he did. Someone who experienced
the same wonder, the same sense of magic, that he did.
    Most other people, when he brought up the woods,
would smirk and laugh (if they were other kids) or smile
thinly and indulgently as they pretended to listen (if they
were grown-ups). Nobody understood what the forest
meant to him.
    Nobody except Carly.
    He couldn’t miss her, he just couldn’t. How could he have
been so stupid, not telling her a time? She was going to get
there and not see him and —
    He’d just have to get there first. That was it. That was
the answer. He’d be out at the edge of the woods as early as
he could be, and when she got there, he would be waiting
for her .
    He fell asleep moments later with that thought in his
mind and a broad smile on his face.
    That night, Brian slept the sort of sleep adults envy:
rich and deep and dark. The sort of sleep that eleven-year-old boys who spend their days tramping through the woods
and playing in streams take for granted, the sort of sleep
from which nothing would wake him.

    Jeff found Diane in Brian’s bedroom, sitting on his bed. She
was rubbing her hands together compulsively, folding and
twisting them around one another. The room was dark, the
flashing yellow lights of the Search and Rescue trucks out
the window reflected on her face.
    He stood in the doorway in silence, just watching her.
    â€œWhat did they say?” she asked in a near-whisper,
without turning toward him.
    He was startled by the sound of her voice. “What?”
    â€œI saw you out there, talking to them.”
    â€œThey’re going back out,” he said, stepping into the
room. “They’ve got their lights and radios now.” He stopped
beside her. He wanted to sit next to her on the bed. Or touch
her shoulder. Or take her hand.
    He didn’t.
    â€œI don’t blame you,” she said.
    â€œWhat?”
    â€œFor this. For all of this. It’s not your fault. He could
have gotten lost in the city just as easily. More easily. It’s
not your fault.”
    He understood the words: they were clear enough. But
in her broken voice, they seemed to mean the opposite of
what she was saying. All he heard was Diane blaming him.
And it was true. This was his fault. This never would have
happened in the city. Never would have happened if his
mother had been taking care of him.
    He bit the inside of his lip until it bled.
    â€œDid they . . . do they have any . . .”
    He had to take a deep breath before he could