Part 11

        I went to the dark room after work every day the rest of that week, processing film. Once that was done, and my film had dried, I cut up each strip and slid the negatives into plastic sleeves, in a fresh new binder I'd bought for the summer. I decided to wait until next week to start running off contact sheets and doing prints, and took the binder full of negatives back to the Mayhew's with me on Friday night. I flipped through the pages before bed that night, putting them in order and labeling them with the dates and general subjects. As I slipped the last one into place, I paused a moment, puzzled. I hadn't seen any of the shots of Caleb and the other boys working on their fort. They should have been in here... I looked through the sheets again, but still didn't see them. I went over to the dresser, but there were no used rolls of film, I'd brought the last ones over that day and processed them. I looked on the floor around the dresser, checked in the drawers, checked all the pockets of my jeans... nothing. I knew it couldn't be in the dark room, I'd double- and triple-checked every place I'd set anything down before I left that night. If it had been left or dropped anywhere else in the house, Mrs. Mayhew would have found it and returned it, her vigilance with keeping the house neat'n'tidy was insane. Caleb, for all his mischievousness, knew how important my pictures were to me, he wouldn't have snatched any.
        I must have dropped it outside somewhere.
        I groaned, my head dropping into my hands as I slumped back onto the bed. I dug through my memory, trying to sort out where I could have lost it... It wouldn't have been in the lawn, the neighbor's son had been over just today to mow the lawn, someone would have seen a film canister. Mr. Mayhew was meticulous about there not being anything left in the yard for the mower to hit and dent its blade on, he and Caleb had been over every inch of the grass. It had to be in the woods, probably by the fort. I remembered checking my pockets when I finally made it to the fort, and I'd had all my rolls of film then... but I didn't check when I left, when I got back that night I just dumped everything onto the dresser.
        On the bright side, it would be a lot easier to retrace my steps from the trip home from the fort than it would be tracing my path heading out to it. The boys had, thankfully, led the way and pointed out landmarks for their path to the fort. It wasn't extremely visible, but once you knew what to look for - a notch cut on a tree here, a bit of string there, a slim young tree with its lower branches all bent downward, a grouping of rocks in an open space... I had to admit, I was impressed by their ingenuity.
        But I'd have to wait until morning, I hoped like anything it was inside the fort, and that it wouldn't rain, that the dew wouldn't be all that heavy...

        All night long, I was haunted by the image of Caleb's innocent curiosity peering in through the window of the old shack, the sunlight streaming in beside him, catching in his shining gold hair... the moment I knew I'd trapped in the film's emulsion, if only I could find that film...

        I woke up really early Saturday morning, it was barely six o'clock and I knew I wouldn't be able to fall back asleep, I was too wired about going out to hunt for my missing film. I threw on a pair of beat-up jeans and a super-comfy vintage style Coca-Cola t-shirt - as much as I loved creating unique outfits, when I was going to be blundering my way through the woods, I wanted comfort. I threw my hair back into a ponytail, and reached for my cameras and some film.
        Then I thought better of it, and poked around in a desk drawer until I found a small camera case I hardly ever used. I threw a few rolls of film inside of that, instead of my pockets, then zipped it closed and snapped the strap around my belt loop. I grinned weakly at myself, shaking my head, glad I caught myself before I made the same mistake a second time. I grabbed a granola bar out of the box on my desk (realizing I'd have to re-stock my munchie supplies pretty soon, I was running out of granola bars), and headed outside.

        Amazingly enough, I only got slightly lost while trying to find my way to the boys' fort, and that may well have been due to my searching the ground everywhere for that freaking film canister. At first I half expected to be challenged on the path by the boys themselves, but then I remembered that Caleb was actually staying home this weekend, apparently his parents wanted to spend time with him. ...I shook my head, trying to clear out such negative thoughts, I'd never met his parents, I had no idea what his home situation was. Maybe his parents really did just work a lot, and anyway it seemed he really loved staying with his grandparents. He seemed a stable enough kid, no different from every other boy his age - probably healthier, for that matter, he was always outside. I couldn't remember having seen him in front of the tv for more than a few hours total, and most of that was a movie he was watching with Dave on a rainy afternoon.
        There was a bit of fog in some of the lower areas in the woods, clinging like bits of cobweb to the underbrush. The back of my neck prickled now and then in the chill, damp air. The sun filtered through the trees at a low angle, its light still pale and cold. It made for a very uncanny atmosphere...not like the one from a week or so before, that had so inspired my photos, this one felt more ominous, more like a presence, it was a bit unsettling. I really wished I'd suddenly hear the bright, energetic voices of the boys... I did take some pictures along the way, but I was distracted, both by the search and by the odd feeling in the air.
        At last, I reached the fort, my feet and pant legs soaked from the mist and dew, my skin both sweaty and chilled. The film was most likely around here somewhere, this is where I'd done the most bending over and crouching down and getting up and generally clambering all around and giving little plastic canisters all sorts of chances to slip out of my pocket unnoticed. I thought back, and tried to retrace my path as best I could, walking around the outside of the fort, looking around the tree I'd climbed a little ways up, to get a glimpse at the roofwork the boys were so engrossed in. Fortunately for me, the boys hadn't felt the need to put any sort of lock on the door yet, so I was able to step inside... and there it was! I leapt across the room and pounced on the small black round thing on the floor, snatching it up and clutching it to my chest in a ridiculously over-dramatic gesture, grinning like a psychopath contemplating the wonders of ketchup and bunny rabbits. Oh I was so relieved, I didn't know what to do so I just laughed for a minutes or two, falling back to sit on one of the bigger logs in the room.
        When I'd regained my composure, I stared out the window idly for a few minutes, deciding what to do with the rest of my day. I felt like I'd exhausted the photo-potential of my usual haunts for the moment, I wanted to explore. I could get out my bike and ride out toward the lake, or into town, or maybe just follow the road out away from town, and see where it led me, maybe poke around one of the many other little single-stoplight towns nearby. Somehow, though, that didn't seem all that appealing just then...I decided I wasn't in the mood for bumping into other people for awhile, I wanted some solitude. Was there anything else interesting to find in these woods, I wondered. This area had been settled for a few hundred years, there were all sorts of half-decayed old buildings around - like this one, even. I wasn't that far from the lake, and people have always liked living near lakes. I was pretty sure a large creek ran through these woods, too, the Canadaway Creek? which emptied into the lake. That would have been a draw for people. Hell, the creek itself would be a nice photo-op, I hadn't taken many pictures of water lately. Maybe I'd even follow it down to the lake, it couldn't be more than three or four miles.
        That sounded like a better plan. I got to my feet, stretching, and re-adjusted my ponytail. I felt warmer, now that I'd been out of the mist awhile. The sun was getting higher as well, the morning chill wouldn't last much longer. I left the fort, closing the door as securely as was possible behind me...
        ...and my stomach growled. Apparently a granola bar wasn't going to cut it for a day-long hike. I sighed, glaring at my stomach, but realized I should have a bottle of water with me anyway. So, back to the house I went.

        Half an hour later, I was back at the fort with a small backpack, which contained a couple of peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, an apple, a few cookies, and two bottles of water. (It was probably going to get warm, and I really didn't trust any water that touched Lake Erie water to be safe to drink.)