17

Nothing

Days and nights went by with no sign of the old man. The townsfolk formed search parties, the police were called out, and Jack even made a tearful appeal for his safe return on the local news.

Nothing.

On the boy’s instruction, all the highest points for miles around were checked. The tops of hills, roofs of any tall buildings, the church spire of course, even electricity pylons.

Nothing.

Jack designed a ‘Missing’ poster for his grandfather. He had hundreds photocopied at school and trundled around town on his trike sticking them up on every tree and lamppost he could find.

Nothing.

Every time the telephone or the doorbell rang, Jack would race to answer it, praying it would be news about Grandpa. But there was no trace of him.

The boy felt terribly guilty and would cry himself to sleep at night. His mum and dad told Jack not to blame himself, but over and over he wished that he had listened to them.

Perhaps an old folk’s home really was the best place for Grandpa? At least he would be safe there. Though the boy hated to admit it, it seemed Grandpa was now far too much of a handful for the family to look after.

As each day passed the sense of absence grew deeper.

Yet after a while, Jack realised something awful. The world kept turning; his mum and dad went back to work. The people of the town returned to their lives. A missing old man had become old news.

Most of all, it was the not knowing that was agonising. Had Grandpa gone forever? Or was he lost somewhere, in desperate need of help?

Reluctantly, the boy returned to school. It was hard to concentrate at the best of times, but now Jack’s mind really was elsewhere. Whatever the subject, all he could think about was his grandpa.

After school every day he would stop off at Raj’s shop to see if there was any news.

DING! went the bell as Jack entered the newsagent’s. It was now a whole week after his grandfather’s disappearance.

“Ah! Young Master Bumting! My favourite customer! Come in out of the cold, please!” called Raj from behind his counter.

In such a low mood, all the boy could muster was a polite nod in the newsagent’s direction.

“I scoured all the newspapers again today, but I am sorry to say there has been no sign of your grandfather,” said Raj.

“I just don’t understand!” replied Jack. “When he went missing before we always found him. This time it’s like he’s disappeared into thin air.”

Raj mused on this thought for a while, and to aid concentration picked up a lolly from the counter and popped it in his mouth. The man’s face grimaced a little, it was clear he didn’t like the taste, and he quickly popped it back with the others for sale.

There had long been rumours among the kids at Jack’s school that many of Raj’s sweets came ‘pre-sucked’. Now the boy knew for sure. Strangely, it didn’t make him like the newsagent any less.

“Your grandfather is a war hero…” said Raj, thinking out loud.

“Yes! He even has a Distinguished Flying Cross!” agreed Jack. “That’s one of the highest honours a pilot could be awarded.”

“…So I cannot believe a man like that would just give up on life. He’s out there somewhere. I just know it.”

DING! The boy left the shop with a spring in his step for the first time in days. Now at least Jack felt there was hope. The drone of an aeroplane’s engine echoed across the sky. Looking up, for a moment Jack half expected to see his grandfather. But of course it wasn’t a Spitfire. Just another anonymous jumbo jet.

“Up, up and away,” the boy recited to himself.

Raj was right – Grandpa must be out there.

But where?