They Are Here

CHAPTER 1

I was struggling to regain consciousness. Where was I? I could barely open my eyes I felt the presence of a heavy, warm, sticky, smelly substance surrounding my body. An indefinable depth of darkness surrounding me felt so emotionally depressing … not the ordinary levels of darkness associated with the night; this was an oppressive, thick all-consuming darkness. Not one tiny sliver of light penetrated through any doors, windows or small cracks, just the darkness … and the silence!

My mind was performing so sluggishly, so slow was it to figure out what had actually happened to me to be in this situation, whatever this situation might be? I had little capacity to discern between fact and fiction about my plight … have I been buried alive? How could anyone do that to another person? No, this had to be a dream, as I could not accept that I may be dead… I went back to my dream theory, as I was not too positive what my overall situation was, or least of all, where I was.

Thoughts began picking up a little more pace in my mind. There wasn’t any systematic process to my thoughts, more like fleeting images, floating voices and areas of blankness. A dominant feeling exploded into my mind … I have to get home. Where was my home? Did I really have a home? What made me think of my home? What was I doing here, lying on my back in some dark pit? Did I stagger into this pit as an aftermath of being a fall down drunk? Did I just fall into a hole accidentally? I didn’t know what I was feeling or where I was. I couldn’t concentrate on any one subject for any length of time.

I tried to create a pattern, a method of deducing any scenario that would allow me to dissect my present situation. If I could just establish definable steps in what had happened to me. It was useless I had no facts to work on. I had to get out of here … wherever here is.

I needed to concentrate on the facts that were known. The substance surrounding me felt heavy, yet, I felt so light. Was my body being supported by a sling or wires, similar to a vaudeville puppet?

To test that theory, I had to try and move … I moved my hand, tried to wipe my eyes and nose, I started to become more anxious, I was not getting enough air … I felt that I needed to clear my throat. The conditions were so claustrophobic. The substance I was touching felt jelly like, it was not over my entire face now just to the bottom of my chin.

I remembered that I had lifted my head slightly, I started to feel panic welling up inside me, if I put my head back down, would that jelly cover my mouth and nose? I was growing exhausted from my small movements, I slowly let my head slide back, back into that stench that jelly, to my gradual relief, the level still allowed me to gasp for air, at least I could breathe.

After trying to piece together my movements to this point I deduced that I had to be totally encapsulated, I wanted to feel my cage. I reached out for something familiar, some object, some shape, something solid that I could at least identify by touch.

I found that any movement in this surrounding jelly required an exaggerated amount of exertion, my arm felt so heavy, so much muscle power was required just slowly moving through this thick goo. I continued to move my arm until it was fully extended and still I had not touched anything… each movement seemed to stir up the stench surrounding me … that smell!! … It was almost suffocating? My body was reacting by trying to dry retch … I only hoped that I didn’t vomit, that mixed with this stench could not be good.

Whilst my mind was starting to function a little clearer, I was starting to feel more confident that what was actually happening to me was not of my doing, so therefore it posed a larger question … why would anyone want to do such repulsive deeds to me?

The heat … Why is it so warm in here? Was the substance surrounding me becoming warmer? Or was I becoming more alert and my senses becoming more acute? I had to make more precise assumptions, I had to try and put together all I knew about my feeble actions and their results since finding myself in this mess. I could move my hand, and my arm, I was able to open my eyes, able to smell that rotten stench, able to feel, if I can coordinate these minute bodily actions I knew I must be alive. With that assumption locked in to a factual category… gained a little more confidence. Surely I am alive, but where am I?

I tried to raise my torso to enable me to sit fully erect. A shooting pain from under my left arm hit me like a knife stab below my heart. I automatically tried to grab at it; I had to get relief from that pain I wanted it to stop… now.

With an instant adrenalin charge pumping through my body I obtained enough energy to push my hand through the warm goo and touched the area of pain. I could feel two long round objects protruding from my body… The objects were inserted into my rib cage, beside my heart. At that moment I could not even try to evaluate why they were there, I just wanted them out of my body. I probed the tubes to find leverage points for the removal; they were so slippery, I grabbed both and hung on doggedly. Then, I slowly tried to remove the objects. There was no movement, no sign they would budge from the connection point within my ribs. … The pain was increasing I tried harder, quicker to just jerk those offending objects out of me. Too much resistance to gain my desired result … too much pain. I blacked out.

A soft, almost inaudible humming noise woke me. I had no idea how long I had been unconscious again. I could now detect a sound, I was able evaluate with surety that the humming sound was not changing in pitch, or intensity, it was just still barely audible, but constant. To hear anything from the silence had to be a good omen, as I concluded that the humming noise was not caused by me, therefore, there must be someone or something else here that might hear me if I could cry out.

My adrenalin was now pumping even faster through my veins, but I still felt restricted of oxygen, I couldn’t seem to get enough into my lungs to scream out for help, I was so dejected by the attempt to create some sound, some notice that I was here. I did manage a low intense Help! … It sounded like a pathetic muffled little whimper.

I had to be more committed to gain my freedom, if any item I tried to use to obtain freedom did not work, and then I had to rethink my actions. Not to accept that I had failed and do nothing. In this moment of doubt, I could only think about being freed, I had to be found, I had to find a way to let someone, anyone, know I was here.

Think, think, what can I do? I tried to wriggle free of the goo to no avail. I tried to move my legs and arms to get up; too much energy was needed within all this goo around me to move, and that excruciating pain in my side when I did move … any movement was not worth that level of pain.

Totally frustrated now, I laid flat again, resting, trying to think of a way to be noticed. That lingering thought was still highlighted in my mind … if the humming noise was to represent somebody being close I still had to find a way to let them know I was here. I tried another idea … with the little air I could breathe I tried to make a whistling sound, a low barely audible whistle at first.

I slowly wiped my lips again, now my whistling was becoming a little louder, then louder. … Anyone could hear that now … I heard movement towards me ... a movement around my cage. My frustration gave way to excitement … have I been found? Will I be freed?

I laid waiting, waiting for my freedom. An intense, brilliant white light penetrated the darkness; I couldn’t determine the direction that it emanated as I was totally blinded. The brilliance of that light still penetrated my tightly closed eyes. The effects felt comparable to a physical thump against my head. I tried to cover my eyes with my hand, too much effort to do that with any speed. Suddenly, through the blinding light an object brushed past me and touched my head. Have I been found?

My emotions were now running amok this is the first time that I could safely say that I had a chance of being freed. I began to feel a shock starting to run through my body. The electric charge started with contact through my hand, continued on all over my body, not a vicious shock, not similar to a household electric shock, causing a lot of body gyrations, but a buzzing tingly shock, enough current to make my skin prickle. As I was squirming around in the goo I realized that I wasn’t being held so tightly by the smelly-jelly. I now had much easier movement I felt less weighed down.

The shock treatment was diminishing. Still causing a slight tingle, but I could now move my limbs without too much restriction. The ‘shocks’ had subsided further, just a light pulsing. I felt relieved that this process was obviously not meant to kill. At last, the goo was gone, totally drained away … the stench was still there, but at least I could move. I had an unbearable desire to sit up.

I was hopeful that brilliant white light had not damaged my eyes, as I was not able to see. Without that goo weighing me down I wanted to move around so badly, I wanted to see if I was still totally functional. The need to move was measured against that pain I received each time I previously tried to move. Remembering the pain I decided to sit up, but very gingerly.

I still could not see through the light, even though it had slightly diminished. I could sense movement, some darker shapes none yet recognizable … to my way of thinking any shape was a good shape. I felt instant joy regardless as to whom or what it was. I was saved. My opinion of being saved changed rapidly, I was immediately slammed down on my back with such force my head hit a solid object and knocked me unconscious.

I dreamed about a woman, who was she? What was she in my life? Why was her face so clear? I awoke. I felt a prickling sensation under my back. The light in the room was almost a normal level of illumination.

I tried again to sit up. I felt myself trying to call out but not being able to make a sound as in a dream. I had no appreciable movement I had to refrain from useless gestures. I had to save my energy until I might have to use it for my protection.

I laid there trying to keep my emotions in check. I slowly began checking my limbs by minor movements. Great, they were all still working, overall I felt bodily well. I noticed how even my heartbeat was, even though it was up around ninety beats per minute, it was strong … and loud. I realized that the pain from my rib section had ceased. That immediately gave me more hope. I felt a little more comfortable, more confident; confident I could get through this ordeal and still remain mindfully and bodily intact. That rotten putrid stench had vanished. I was obviously out of my Captors cage.

My emotional levels were becoming more controllable. I felt that things were looking up. To my further relief, I began to hear an indefinable sound, similar to low mumbling in the distance, but it was at least a sound … then a faint patter like sound, nothing I had heard before, it could be some type of machine, there was a rhythm to the sound, a consistency…. a further sound of hope.

I felt an object moving over my body, drawn over my feet, then up to my ankles, then my knees, my chest, my neck, over my closed eyelids. I could see a powerful blue light slowly moving back over my eyes and forehead area, then back down my body again. Strangely, after the light had completed its journey, my mind and body felt perfectly calm.

The light dimmed slightly, I felt movement around my body again. My eyes were being touched, I could not recognize what touched me, it was a cold, metallic touch, and I felt no fear just impatient to know what was being done to me. How did this particular process fit into my overall plight?

The light exercise that lasted for only a few seconds was then withdrawn. I heard another sound, like the clinking together of two pieces of heavy glass; I heard that many times, I was not fearful of the noise, just curious and hopeful that I may be soon released.

That indefinable mumbling sound I could hear previously was increasing in volume; it was now similar to a softly spoken language, one that I have never heard before. It was more likened to a computer-generated sound with intermittent voice patterns included. That sound remained for a short time, then silence.

I started to feel the effects of movement around my body again, just the whoosh in the air against the hairs on my skin, as objects or people passed close by, very soft, almost inaudible sounds of movement on the floor surface. Then utter silence again. I am unsure how long the silence prevailed, but now the noises of movement were increasing, becoming more obvious.

Still lying inert but cynically waiting for my captors to introduce more anxiety or pain, I felt my eyes being forced opened. I still did not have visual clarity at that point, but I felt an apparatus, or heavy light placed over my eyes, the sensation likened to a soft caressing warmth, then a small flashing white light contained within a spiraling blue light appeared, under different circumstances, one would admire the technology required to cause that effect.

I lay perfectly still. The white light over my eyes flashed every two seconds, alternating to a longer duration of white light pattern with longer intervals progressing to a denser blue pattern. The light apparatus was removed from my eyes, I could now see…. I now had my vision back.

Overjoyed that I had received another of my natural senses I was quickly bought back to reality. I could see, but I was still unable to move. I looked around, I could see that I had no shackling there were no visible means of keeping me restrained, I just couldn’t move except for my eyes. I tried to move my head, nothing, just my eyes. I tried to speak, still nothing. However, amongst all this madness I still felt calm; I could only visually observe my immediate surrounds.

I was located within an oval shaped room with a domed ceiling. The room size was that of a normal home lounge room around 25 feet long by around 15 feet wide and a high ceiling. The ceiling was covered in panels of different colored lights and odd shapes. There didn’t seem to be any pattern in how they were arranged. I noticed that there was a purple light shining from the panel directly over me, focused to totally cover my body.

The walls of the room appeared to be a thickened shiny glass, not transparent, not totally opaque, but still glass like. I could not visually explore the floor. I looked down towards my feet; I could see that I was nude except for some colored coverings hovering over my body.

The covering looked similar to a thin green layer of silky type material, very light and was pulsing, seemed alive. That same material in red was over my stomach and yellow material on my torso.

The coverings had a calming effect, or maybe it was that purple light. I wondered if that light what was holding me here. I started to assess my immediate problems again.

Why was anyone holding me? What have they been doing to me? What type of place was this and where was it located? Where is everyone? Why couldn’t I remember anything of importance regarding my past?

Small shapes began to move in one of the panels above me, three strange colored lights were illuminated, and I felt myself starting to fall asleep. I tried to fight it… I fell asleep.

I awoke in a sitting position. I had no idea how long I had slept. Nothing here seemed tangible enough to give me any idea of time. I was sitting in some type of seating without any visible means of support. I looked for wire supports from the ceiling, nothing; I couldn’t see any other support mechanism so I assumed I was being held in place by something under my butt that I couldn’t see.

I could move my eyes, my head, but nothing else would move. I was now in a different room, another glass type room, a shiny room yet without reflections, this was much larger than the previous room, but without all the panels, lights and shapes in the ceiling.

The walls were shimmering now, almost sparkling yet there were still no reflections of me, or anything else contained within that room. In my peripheral vision, I could see a small machine placed just behind my left shoulder, it wasn’t making any sound, didn’t seem to be doing anything in particular. I watched it for a while it was the only apparatus in the room that I could see.

Now that I could move my head, I wanted to see what had happened to the pain area in my side where the objects were in my ribs, as I hadn’t felt any pain or discomfort for some time now. To my surprise, and pleasure, they were gone. When were they removed? I bent my neck as far as I could to see the wound area, not even a stitch or a scar. How long have I been here?

The machine beside my shoulder started to move, no sounds, just moved liked it was gliding across the floor, I watched it, fascinated at the smoothness of movement, it stopped just level with my feet, it seemed to grow in size, like a balloon being inflated, so smooth and effortless, it was hovering, it moved up over my feet, a blue light appeared from within, it was now traversing my whole body, up to my neck. Was this what I felt before with the blue light moving up and down my body?

The machine positioned itself over my head then turned almost transparent, similar to a mirrored surface; I could see myself, my whole body. I moved my head side to side, opened and closed my lips, moved my eyes to make sure that the reflection on the machine was really me. I tried to talk, I couldn’t, something was stopping me, but, I could see what I looked like, my build, roughly my height the color of my hair, I was starting to remember small things. My eyes were immediately forced closed and I drifted into a semi sleep like state.

Brilliant white light pierced my eyelids again, but then softened to a pinkish glow, I felt reassured and calm, but just wanting to go to back to sleep. In my mind, I started to see flashing pictures, 100’s of them, in continuous streams, I knew I wasn’t dreaming, the images were too clear, they seemed to be in some type of pattern.

Again I glimpsed the face of that woman; she seemed to be in a lot of the pictures. Nothing I could really focus on, there were too many, too quick. I started to feel some familiarity with some of the images. I just tried to fathom what reason was there for me to be viewing all these pictures … where had I seen some of them before? Was the machine making this happen? Was I being brainwashed, conditioned?

The speed of the pictures moving in my mind started to slow down then stopped. The picture I was left with was an outline of a farmhouse, the setting was slightly familiar, but nothing I could readily identify. The view I had wasn’t a picture any longer it was as if I was viewing a movie.

The view moved in closer to the subjects in the picture until I was looking inside the farmhouse, there were people there, a man, woman, and two children sitting at a table eating, talking, laughing, who were they? Why did I feel like I should know them? The picture then became fuzzy, then I started to watch another movie like a presentation of a man working around a barn, he appeared to be shoveling small mounds of soil.

My view moved in closer, I looked at him at work shoveling, I recognized him. IT WAS ME, I am Stephen John Jacobs, I remember! This is my farm, my farmhouse with my sister Amy with my two children. I am starting to remember … I have to get home. Loneliness overtook me for a moment, loneliness and responsibilities and the love of my family. I want be there now, I want to be home. The movie show had slowed to sketchy pictures.

I tried to put that family picture out of my mind for the moment. I could not let emotions interfere with any of my assessments of my captors. I needed to concentrate on my present situation.

My memory was still sketchy, but now at least, I know who I am. I am starting to put some of the pieces of this puzzle together, but it still wasn’t making any sense.

The pink light around me faded and the pictures and all viewing images stopped. Don’t stop I yelled in my mind, I need more pictures to help me remember.

The pink light started again, more pictures appeared, pictures of that woman I saw before, oh, I finally understood, it was my deceased wife, Joanne, my miseries of that faithful accident started to flood in on me, I was still so emotionally raw because of her sudden death three years ago, she was so lovely, so young, so vibrant. The pink light switched off, I went into a deep sleep. So many dreams this time.

CHAPTER 2

Six o’clock Monday morning in Val Verde County at the Jacobs farmhouse.

Amy arose from a very peaceful sleep, she hadn’t had that many over the past thirty-six months. Her time here at the farm was not easy, since the death of her sister in law, Joanne. She was a special woman, Amy reflected on the number of times she had witnessed Joanne demonstrating her love and tenderness for her kids and her husband Stephen.

Initially it had been difficult for Amy, fitting into a new life role as family Matriarch, Mom, housekeeper, and friend. Jo’s passing still had a deep effect on the kids of the household, but they thankfully had made the decision that we all had to try and get on with what Jo and Stephen had planned for their futures.

Over the past two and a half years, Amy had finally come to enjoy this life she had now adopted with the Jacobs as a fill-in Mom. The closeness and dependence of her new family helped her through an extra trauma placed on her by a break up of her own marriage with Larry. This was an added burden, which only added to her earlier grief of Jo’s death.

Amy’s nature, whilst being loving and caring to this family, also contained a certain toughness that was proving to be an asset to the family at a time like this. Her sense of self-esteem had risen markedly over the past years when she could see that her presence was needed here. This type of need was something she had not felt for some years in her married life.

She had always loved Jo, Stephen and the kids, it took her some time to ascertain and accept that she was a major factor in helping her adopted family through their worst nightmare, however, day-by-day it was getting a little easier, just one step at a time.

Amy carried out her usual morning pleasurable chores, laid out the breakfast table, made a fresh mix for the pancakes. She knew that Stephen would be back soon from his usual early morning look around the farm.

When she first arrived at the farm, Stephen was busily preparing new additions to the landscaping around the quiet, peaceful farmhouse. It wasn’t an overly large house, but the Latino flavor of the design and the white sparkling, newly painted exteriors added to the welcoming charm of this farm. The layout of the three bedrooms and the large family kitchen was more than ample for their needs. Amy remembered asking Stephen a while ago why he didn’t refer to the structure as a home … he laughed at her and said,

"I want to refer to this as our farm, therefore, our Farmhouse, and I can’t call it a farm-home can I? Besides, I have always wanted a farm, so now; I am a farmer living in a farm-HOUSE?"

He was quite serious about this designation of the house, even though it caused some ribbing and laughter from her and the other family members. From that point on it was called the Farmhouse, or just the farm. She had often joked with him about the time he attempted to plant what he thought were native plants into the many rockeries laid out around the house. Those so-called native plants proved to be noxious weeds! She smiled at the thought of Stephens’ vain attempt to cover his lack of plant knowledge and how next morning she awoke to the sound of the tractor eradicating his mistakes.

She laughingly reminded her brother Stephen that he was a Genetic Engineer not a landscaper and that maybe he should have built a laboratory in the yard instead of rockeries full of weeds. He coyly commented at the time, that her idea was a great one and he would consider that in the future.

She remembered with fondness Stephens’ love for the family farm and his plan to be totally self-sufficient with vegetable patches and the citrus fruit that he reaping from the trees he had planted before her arrival. It wasn’t hard for her to see why Stephen felt the way he did about his farm. After the death of Joanne he threw himself entirely into his work, to strive to deal with his loss. She admired what he had achieved in his efforts.

Amy’s only initial concern was this morning was that Stephen would be so preoccupied admiring his citrus and vegetable creations; he would forget to come home in time for the family breakfast.

For the first week she complained continually that Stephen’s breakfast was always cold. He would always say in a frivolous way,

Its fine Amy, but you know I have so many 1,000’s of acres to see of a morning and so many fruit trees to say good morning to, I will not be able to be at the table until around 6.30 am.

They often laughed about that first week. The degree of exaggeration of his farming duties Stephen used to imply. The farm was just a little over 100 acres not thousands as he jokingly referred to it.

Amy went in to wake the kids. It was a fun ritual she had created with them. First, she would go into Michael’s room, softly walk to the bedside clock alarm and turn it on really loud, and jump out of his room, even though he was now sixteen, he still loved the surprise factor each morning and would jump out of bed and try and catch Amy before she swiftly retreated laughing from his room.

Then there was little Emma. At 11, she was such a soft, fragile little girl, she needed to be cuddled awake. She would always wake and put her arms around Amy and give her a big hug. Amy would sit on her bedside and usually gave Emma an overview of what they would be doing for the day. Emma didn’t like surprises, so the plans for the day were unfolded.

We are going into town today to get some things for your Dad and we can visit the Aquarium and maybe buy some of those little Goldfish for your pond.

Emma’s smile was such that it could melt the hardest of hard hearts, whilst she was emotionally fragile on occasions she was also filled with an inner strength that usually pulled her through the times of missing her Mom.

The suggestion of a trip to the Aquarium was music to Emma’s ears she loved goldfish. Her Dad had built a small fishpond under the back tree for her, she loved to just sit and watch the antics of the fish. This planning for the day helped to get Emma up and quickly dressed.

Amy returned to the kitchen to prepare cooking the pancakes, she checked her watch and thought to wait a little while for Stephen, as he usually returned around Six thirty and wash up for breakfast. She stirred the pancake mixture. Stephen still had not returned.

Amy went to the back door and called out for him, no answer. She went to the rear of the house to see if he was finishing cleaning up the small mess from the last night BBQ. Still no Stephen, she called out again, no answer.

Michael had come to the kitchen table with Emma. He heard Amy calling Stephen, nothing too unusual at this time of the morning. Both the kids sat down at the table. Amy called out several more times to their Dad. Michael went out the back door to speak to her.

Where is Dad, he asked, Amy didn’t answer immediately, she seemed a little upset, but eventually answered,

I don’t know, he is running a little late this morning, have you seen him? Michael was starting to see the now noticeable change in Amy’s demeanor, she had developed a frown, that was unusual for Amy she always had a smile for him.

Amy thought about this apparent tardiness of Stephen this morning, she was a little annoyed at him for being late again for breakfast. It was agreed between them that he would be back at the table by six thirty of a morning. She also knew how he would sometimes play pranks with the kids … he could be round the back of the house waiting to pounce on them.

She went to the rear of the house, and to her surprise, the mess from the BBQ and party night before was still lying on the ground, and the seating was not packed away.

It’s unusual for Stephen to leave this mess around the house, he was always so fastidious about cleanliness in the yard, anyway Michael let’s get back to the kitchen.

Amy, whilst being reticent to admit that something could be wrong, reinforced her emotional control, ‘Maybe Stephen is just late, nothing to worry about’ she thought, trying to convince herself that nothing was really amiss.

Michael went back into the house bypassing the kitchen. He wanted to see if his Dad had somehow gone through to the bathroom without being noticed, he wasn’t there. He was starting to understand more about the reason Amy had that frown. Diligently he then looked through the entire house, still no sign of his Dad. Emma by this time had heard and seen Amy and Michael searching and calling out for her Dad, she joined the search.

Michael had noticed during his search of the house that Stephen’s work clothes, blue jeans and a somewhat tattered checked shirt, was still hanging on the chair beside the bed, and his heavy work boots were still under the chair. He doesn’t go anywhere on the farm without what the kids laughingly call ‘Dad’s Uniform’.

Amy still was not convinced that Stephen would just take his time to get back for breakfast, he could have come across some new fruit bearing buds on the trees and was admiring his good work, or even found something broken and may have taken the extra time to fix it. She was not totally satisfied with those hypothetical explanations.

It was difficult for her to think the worst. However, she eventually lamented, something could be wrong, it won’t hurt to check anyway.

Thinking about Stephen’s reaction to her negative thoughts and fuss she was making if he arrived at the farmhouse now. He would say,

Amy you will get a wrinkled forehead if you worry.

She considered her planned action to search and commented to herself, I could gladly suffer that indignity of his laughter and stirring.

Amy phoned neighbors, Chuck and Ilene, to inquire if Stephen was there, he wasn’t. However, Chuck commenced to express his gratitude and compliments for preparing such a great BBQ the night before. Amy was not in the mood for such pleasantries, whilst maintaining her usual joyful phone manner she thanked Chuck and hung up.

Michael joined Amy and told her about his search of the house and that he had also checked the barn. He worriedly reported to her that his Dad’s pickup was still in there. Amy was now becoming concerned. Michael was also beginning to mirror the concern shown by Amy.

Amy went back to the kitchen she wanted time to think about her next move. Firstly she would have to discuss the situation and maybe show a little concern to the kids; just enough not to worry them, but enough to make them aware that there was ample reason for what she was planning.

Her decision was made. She gathered the kids and they sat and discussed her light concerns, and highlighted the point that this was not a usual event that Stephen would miss the family breakfast. After a short discussion it was decided that they would take the pickup and have a look around the farm boundaries, but before they did that Amy would phone their other neighbors first to ask if by chance he was just visiting them.

Michael stated knowingly, Dad would be really upset if anyone was called in to look for him, especially if he just decided to go into town for something.

Amy’s emotions were starting to become a little more dictatorial, she impatiently replied, He couldn’t have gone anywhere in the pickup Michael, you said it was still in the barn.

She placed a phone call to distant neighbor Ilene, Chuck’s wife, to ask for their assistance to launch a bigger, more thorough search. Disappointingly, Ilene relayed to Amy that Chuck had already left to go into town to get some parts for his tractor. Amy told Ilene of her concerns about Stephen not being back for breakfast, and the other telltale items leading her to believe that something was amiss. Ilene was a little surprised at the unusual degree of anxiety in Amy’s voice, as Amy was usually so easy going and laid-back, but not this morning.

After hearing Amy’s anxious request Ilene immediately