Page 19 of Made for You

Black sleeping bag that suddenly looks awfully like a body bag. Flashlight by the pillow. A paperback novel, face down and splayed open to mark his spot. A box of energy bars at the foot of his sleeping bag. Hiking boots with wool socks inside, neatly arranged by the entrance. Water bottle by his shoes. A cooler bag. And finally, his overnight bag, a pair of sweatpants folded on top, like he had just taken them off.

I close my eyes and inhale. This whole setup feels...

Wrong.

I open my eyes.

Jarringly neat.

The sleeping bag doesn’t look slept in. It could have been smoothed out after the fact, of course, but Josh has never made a bed in his life. Or folded a pair of pants.

Crouching on my heels, I pick up each item in turn with my sleeves pulled over my hands, in case this becomes a crime scene. I count the energy bars. Seven in a box of eight, along with the crumpled wrapper of the eighth. The cooler bag contains half a dozen peanut butter sandwiches, which Josh made right before he left. I remember this; I was still semi-sober. Next, I pick up the half-empty water bottle and unscrew the top. Would the water possibly be drugged? Smells like water. Tastes like it, too... Wow. Drugged water? I’m reaching. I pick up the book, an old John Grisham paperback. A blue gel pen lies under it, the clicker textured with bite marks. I smell the socks inside his shoes. A strong whiff of detergent tells me they’re unworn.

Finally, I stand, heat pounding through my head because I want to have smart thoughts, strong instincts, brilliant insights, but all I have is confusion. My eyes sweep the objects over and over. I feel like I’m fudging a test. Also, there’s a tingle in my chest that means I need to pump soon. I pinch my inner arm to rein in my scattered focus.

Okay. He gets here late Saturday night. He sets up the tent in the dark, goes to sleep. Gets up early, eats an energy bar, texts me, heads to breakfast with Andy. And on the way...crashes the car? Wanders off in concussed confusion?

Or maybe he never slept here at all, a prickle tells me.

And Josh never chewed on pens. I did. Do. He hates it.

A loud bleep-bleep spikes through my senses.

A law enforcement vehicle. Oh God. If I’m found here—

I look around the tent in a panic. The only exit besides the front is a flap-style window in the back, currently closed.

I’m there in two steps, opening the flap, but there’s a second layer, a mosquito net, also closed. I tug at the zipper. Stuck.

“Come on,” I say under my breath. A plea. A prayer.

“Looks like it’s this one, yep,” a deep male voice says, with that syrupy Southern Indiana drawl that sounds like humid summers and sticky beer. There’s a crackle of walkie-talkie. “Found it. Site number eleven. C’mon over.” Then, the tread of heavy boots.

One officer, and it sounds like his partner is on the way.

I’m breathing heavily as I rock the zipper back and forth. Come on...come on...

“Excuse me, sir?” A female voice, brittle, pert. I go still. “I’m sorry to bother you. But my husband and I are just over there, and... I can’t help but wonder if you’re here about the young man who’s staying here.”

“Yes, ma’am,” says the officer. “Any information you have would be extremely valuable. I’m afraid this is a missing person case.”

“Oh, my. We did wonder... We haven’t seen him in days!”

“You did see him, then?”

“Yes, he came in late Saturday night. He woke us up!”

“Might you remember what time that was?”

“A little after ten. But the strange thing is, after he set up his tent, he left.”

“How d’you figure?”

“I had to use the restroom. The facilities are at the front of the campsite. I saw him drive away.”

“Could you describe who you saw?”

“Well, it was dark, so I didn’t get a good look. But I could see his outline while he was pitching his tent. Slender fellow. Took him a while to get it all set up. Didn’t seem like he’d done it before. I thought he must be a camping newbie. He moved around the tent for a while. That’s when I went to the restroom. Then before I know it, he’s zooming past me. Very recklessly, I might add. If I hadn’t jumped aside, he could have hit me!”