Went Missing

Readers often have a preference as to what they put in their hands. Some liked novels of various genres, others reached for non-fiction in all its forms, and still there were those who were very much like Sam, in that they simply read a little bit of everything.

But it was in April of 1989 that Sam took a keen interest in reading about the local myths and legends of the Pacific Northwest. While in Anchorage, Alaska during that time, he found at a used bookstore a host of literature which fit that particular field of study. He read through half of those books before he made it back to that basement in Kenai, one month later.


"People went missing," Henry Fall used to say, as they sat in the only bar Sam would ever visit, there in Kenai. The old man kept his long grey hair forever in a pony-tail, saddled on top with a ragged ball cap. There were grim vacancies in his toothy smile, but that never stopped Henry Fall from cackling the way he did, every hour of every night in that bar. This was the man who could've claimed Sam Nolan for his friend, for on those occasions when Sam acquainted that bar, it was Henry whom he sat with and talked about mostly nothing of any great importance to. And that by the way, was the fourth thing Sam ever did while in Kenai harbor.

"They went missing for many reasons," Henry would continue. The old man had a lengthy list as to why people went missing in Alaska. Everything from plane crash, to fratricide. And when he was sober enough to take a serious tone, his tales on that subject would snare Sam Nolan the same as one of those books in that basement did. But in the warm months of that year, 1989, as Sam and Henry were sitting in that bar talking about people going missing, the old man decided that his friend might value something a little bit more than just words.

And so one day, Henry Fall came to that bar carrying the leather binder he found as a kid while playing in his grandfather's house. His face wore the gravity of a man on his way to a job interview, and when Sam sat next to him later that evening, Henry gave his friend that binder along with all his seriousness. But he kept his words.

For one hour Sam Nolan sat and read through that binder, while Henry sat and drank his beer.

About me

This is me: home-writer, book-reader, dog-lover and occasional poet. I make this website to share my and my friends texts with You, dear Reader. Please: read carefully, don't be scary, upgrade your mood and be king and leave your comment. :)