Iamgone.

    Thisisnotafairytale,butthetruehistoryofmydoublelife,leftbehiallbegan,incaseImaybefoundagain.

    MyownstinswhenIwasaboyofseven,freeofmycurrentdesires.Nearlythirtyyearsago,onanAugustafternoon,Iranawayfromhomeandnevermadeitback.Certaintrivialandfottenmatterssetmeoff,butIrememberpreparingforalongjouruffingmypocketswithbiscuitsleftoverfromlundcreepingoutofthehousesosoftlythatmymhtnotknowIhadeverleft.

    Fromthebackdoorofthefarmhousetothecreepingedgeoftheforest,ouryardwasbathedinlight,asifaborderlandtocrosscarefully,infearofbe-ingexposed.Uponreagthewilderness,Ifeltsafeandhiddeninthedark,darkwood,andasIwalkedon,stillnessledinthespacesamorees.Thebirdshadstoppedsinging,andtheiswereatrest.Tiredoftheblaz-i,atreegroanedasifshiftinginitsrootedposition.Thegreenroofofleavesabovesighedateveryrareandpassingbreeze.Asthesundippedbelowthetreeline,Icameacrossanimposinutwithahollowatitsbasebigenoughformetocrawliohideandwait,tolistenfortheseekers.Aheycamecloseenoughtobe,Iwouldnotmove.Thegrown-upskeptshouting"Hen-ry"inthefadingafternoon,inthehalf-lightofdusk,inthecoolandstarrynight.Irefusedtoanswer.Beamsfromtheflashlightsbouncedcrazilyamorees,andthesearchpartycrashedthroughtheundergrowth,stumbliumpsandfallenlogs,passingmeby.Soontheircallsrecededintothedistance,fadedtoechoes,towhispers,tosilence.Iwasdetermitobefound.

    Iburroweddeeperintomyden,pressingmyfaceagainsttheinnerribsofthetree,inhalingitssweetrotanddahegrainofthewhagainstmyskin.Alowrustlesoundedfara