The tension in Arthur’s house was much less now than what it was when he had left an hour earlier in the afternoon. As his mother stood now at a front window, an unformed thought that had been floating at the back of her mind finally jumped out at her.
“Peter,” she called, “have you seen Arthur?”
“He’s out sliding on the front yard.” came the response.
“I know that’s what he said, but… he’s not there now.”
Arthur’s dad now came out from his office, a scowl on his face, and joined his mother at the window. “Well, he’s probably playing with some kids somewhere. Nothing to worry about.”
“I don’t know… he’d wouldn’t just run off. I think I’ll take a walk around and see if he’s at a neighbour’s place.”
“Suit yourself,” Peter replied, and went back to his work.