Little Boy Lost

The panic crept over me slowly, like syrup just starting to warm up. I looked outside to the sandbox from my vantage point over the kitchen sink through the back window. The box was closed and the little boy who had been playing there just a moment ago, was nowhere to be seen. I dropped the package of crackers I was holding and ran outside. "Jacob!" I called into the still morning. There was no response other then a nearby bird's call. I jogged to the sandbox and took in the view in all directions. No toddler here. I quickly started moving through the trees and bushes, darting around the large boulders strewn about the area around the house. I made my way to the road, continuing to call out his name. Still no response. I thought about the large dogs just a few houses away, the Arkansas river, fast-moving and cold, about a half mile away. Could Jacob have run that far? Knowing the natural curiosity of a two-year-old little boy, I wouldn't put it past him. Frantically, I covered about a quarter of a mile radius in about ten minutes. I ran back to the house, unable to find Jacob, and dialed the next door neighbor's phone number, hoping he may have wandered to a familiar location. No answer. I considered calling his mother, who was at a Buddhist retreat about an hour away. Should I alert her too soon? Was there really any way that I had actually lost her child? I didn't want to think about it, but images of the Fire Department and a Search and Rescue team came to mind in a rush. I ran back outside hoping there may have been an area I had missed when I spied the door of my car cracked open. As quickly as the panic had washed over me, it dissipated like an ocean tide, replaced with relief, tinged with a hint of anger. I rushed over to my car, my new Audi A4, my dream car, the one I had been hoping to buy for years, and scooped the little boy off the front seat. "Park?" he asked innocently. "Yes, Jacob, we will leave for the park soon. But you can't run away like that. And you shouldn't get into Sarah's car without permission." Inside I was flabbergasted. I turned the car on and realized that in the short time of my search for him, Jacob had managed to reprogram my stereo, turn on the lights and windshield wipers and re-adjust my seat. I tried to calm down and remember that no permanent damage was done, but it was a challenge. Next time, I am going to invest in a leash and simply tie him to the sandbox. And perhaps lock my car doors as well.