Lost and Found: Chapter 2
By: Savanna Proffit
“Clomp, clomp, clomp.” The sound of five pairs of boots echoed through the woods. Ten-foot trees lined the trail that was overgrown with weeds, shrubs, and moss; rocks were scattered across the ground; a fallen tree lay here and there; piles of pinecone debris lay scattered in the forest. Waylen took off his hat and wiped his brow. He studied his surroundings; a bird tweeted over there; and a squirrel scurried over here. He looked at the two men in front of him and the two men behind him. Mark Canfield in the very front; Steven Summer behind him; then Waylen; behind Waylen, Jack Stoneman; and very last in line walked George McKensy. All were respectable park rangers on a training exercise for two weeks in the Green Mountains. Mark was the one leading the group. His broad, strong shoulders stood straight, adding to his huge masculine form standing at six foot two inches. His blond hair stuck to his head whenever he took off his hat to wipe his brow. His blue eyes sparkled with delight as he studied this beautiful day and the beautiful mountain surroundings. He had a strong-cut jawline that was covered with a neatly trimmed beard like a blanket; that complimented the smile that curved on his thin lips as he thought of the week ahead.
Waylen was so excited about his first outdoor training exercise that he let out a chuckle when he looked at his feet. He studied them for a little while; they were really big, size ten; they made him walk as if he had duck feet, he thought, sometimes. Though he thought they were huge, nobody else did because he was a tall six-foot man with big hands as well. He had a very strong and built frame at the age of 23 that matched his very handsome and young appearance. His brown eyes sparkled like they were sprinkled with fairy dust every time he got excited about something. Waylen Asher Sterling had the perfect shade of brown hair to compliment his deep eyes. He always tried to keep a tidy appearance by keeping his beard trimmed and wearing neat presentable clothes. He felt that being a Park Ranger required at least a little bit of professionalism away from the job. Right then he was wearing his green uniform pants with hiking boots and a tan button-up shirt with a little gold pin that read his name above the left chest pocket; he had his stetson on his head and a little red kerchief around his neck tied in a neat little knot at the front; his pack on his back felt like it weighed 50 pounds; like it was filled with granite.
The four other men in the group wore the same thing and Waylen guessed that they probably felt like they also carried granite. At last, Mark held up his hand and signaled that it was time to take a rest. They all sighed with relief and found either a rock or a fallen tree to sit on.
“Thank goodness! I thought we would never stop,” exclaimed Jack; a short stocky little man with black hair and green eyes who was the clown of the group and kept them all in a jovial mood. His crooked teeth showed as he chuckled.
“I think that goes for all of us,” George chuckled, as he whisked off his hat and fanned himself with it; his little tuft of curly brown hair that hung in front of his forehead moved with the little breeze it created. He was not the tallest in the group but he was taller than Jack. He had deep, dark, brown eyes that matched his hair and made him look like he was a studious man, which he was; George was the team member who tried to keep all of the guys focused and on track.
“Say, Mark, when are we gonna get to that lookout? I thought you said it was only a little way,” Steven said while he eyed Mark suspiciously. He poured some water in his hand, took his hat off, and perched it on his knee; he took the hand of water and combed the water through his straight red hair so that it stuck up on end as if he were a porcupine; Steven sighed as the cool water ran down his forehead and the back of his neck.
“Oh, it’s just a mile or two farther. We’ll get there before sunset,” Mark said after taking a big gulp of water to moisten his parched throat. Then with a gleam in his eyes, “Why, you gettin’ tired already?”
“Well…no. Just wondering, that's all.” Steven looked to the ground, picked up a pretty little rock, and stuffed it in his pocket. He liked to collect little stones and then once he got home he would put them in his little box under his bed to save and look at later when time allowed.
“Hmmm…sure…that’s all,” a little smile curved on Waylen’s lips and the other guys started to chuckle; Steven smiled at the teasing but said nothing.
“Well boys, let's get back at it. We’re not gonna take another break for another hour or hour and a half so you better buck up.” Mark sent a teasing glance at Steven then swept his eyes over the whole group as he thought, This is a good group of guys. Then, again the clomping sound of men hiking through the forest echoed through the trees.
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Giant trees surrounded a little clearing on a hill. In the center of the little clearing, three small tents stood around a large fire pit. Around the fire pit sat several big logs used as benches. Boulders were scattered here and there along with wild raspberry plants with enough ripe berries to feed an army. Birds fluttered in the trees nearby and chipmunks scurried in and out of little holes between the boulders with cheeks full of pine cone nuts. A little pond sat below the clearing with plenty of fish living in it.
While she stood on top of the hill, above the pond, and at the edge of the little clearing, Caroline Anderson checked her satellite phone to make sure her precious Kayla was still on her way. She was already torn up and worried about her sweet Meg, who could not make the fun trip, not being there.
Her eyes scanned her messages; there was one new one at the top of the list. It was in the group message with Meg and Kayla. It read, “I’m not coming Mom.” Meg had already told her that she was not going to make it so it must have been Kayla who sent the message; why would Meg send it twice? Her heart sank like an anchor that had just been dropped from a ship into the sea. “Ok,” she slowly typed into the box and sent. Caroline turned toward their camp and studied the three children she did have with her; she was grateful to have each of them there but it just would not be the same without Megan and Kayla.
Nathen Anderson studied his wife’s face. Her usually sparkling, joyful, green eyes held a hint of sorrow; a slight frown turned her beautiful smile upside down. She looked slightly older when she was sad. She was 47 years old and still looked the same as when Nathen met her in 1994, except for the little gray hairs sneaking into her naturally brown hair that reached to her waist. She was born on April 4, 1971, in Oakton, where they now live, and graduated from Oakton High School in 1989. She went to college at Vermont State University and graduated with a bachelor's degree in Home Economics. During her last year at the university, she met him. His and her lives have not been the same since.
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