Free We Are Unprepared by Meg Little Reilly Page A

Social Worker and nodded. Let’s keep going.
    We walked for another hour. More yelling his name, mixed with feet crunching on branches, but no talking. There was nothing to say. It was starting to get dark and we didn’t want to acknowledge what that could mean. I was hungry, or I would have been if I could feel anything other than panic and sickness. We just had to keep going.
    â€œHello?” a deep man’s voice called from somewhere to our left.
    â€œIt’s Bev and Ash,” Bev yelled back.
    â€œWe’ve got him,” the voice said.
    Bev and I broke into an awkward run toward the voice until a large police officer came into focus. At first, we couldn’t see him, but then the officer turned to reveal a tired, dirty August clinging to him piggyback-style. The boy’s too-short pant legs wrapped around his torso. A smaller cop stood next to them, holding August’s blue backpack and a large water bottle.
    When August saw us, he released his hold and dropped to the ground, landing on his feet and sprinting toward us. For a moment, I wasn’t sure who he was running to, but it was me. He gave me one quick squeeze around the neck as I crouched down and I wrapped my arms around his little body so hard it made him squirm. He was happy to see me, but a little confused by all the adult dramatics. He seemed fine.
    â€œI made a sweet fort, Ash! But then it got so dark and I lost my compass and I had to stay in one place. That’s an important rule of ranger safety: stay in one place if you’re lost.”
    I smiled. “Yes! Good thinking, buddy. Are you okay? Were you scared?”
    August shrugged. “Yeah, I was a little scared.”
    And that was it. We would get more from him later about where and how he made it through the night, but none of that mattered at that moment. We walked back through the woods in a long line with the officers at the front, followed by Bev The Social Worker, then me with August on my back. It took over an hour and my legs ached, but I was so grateful for the weight of his body and the sound of his soft breath near my ear. I was surprised he let me carry him like that for so long. We had never before touched beyond the occasional high five, but this felt perfectly natural. August fell asleep like that for the final stretch and I wondered what his parents would think when they saw me deliver him to them, his body melting into mine, in all its trusting vulnerability. “Attachment issues” is what Pia once called it. She said August seemed to have some attachment issues with his parents, which may have explained some of his neediness with me. It made more sense now, though I’d thought she was overreacting at the time.
    August awoke as we approached his house and I watched his parents run out to make a big show of hugging him in front of us all. They had been terrified, no doubt, and were so grateful to have him back, but I saw them in a new light now and felt them unworthy of his return.
    â€œLet’s talk,” Bev said, nodding at the path that led to my house.
    We thanked the officers and walked back to my home, which was invitingly warm and bright as we stepped into the kitchen. I kissed Pia long and hard and introduced her to the social worker. She put a pot of water on for tea, but Bev said she wasn’t staying long.
    â€œI wanted you to know that I’m taking August away,” Bev said. “This is the last straw for those two. Strictly between us, the officers searched their home and found illegal pain pills in several places. They’re probably high right now. Who knows how long he had been out there before they noticed. He can’t stay in that home.”
    â€œBut where will he go?” I took the kitchen chair opposite Bev and Pia sat down beside me.
    â€œInto the foster care system. We will find a temporary home for him.” Bev shook her head. “It’s not an easy case. August’s parents