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Missing
 About the Book
About The Movie
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Preview
Chapter 1: Charles
"Fifty-five thousand Americans died in Vietnam. With numbers like that, nobody cares about two who were killed in Chile." Elizabeth Horman leans forward in her chair. "I care. One of them was my son, and he was special." A half smile forms on her lips. "I suppose every mother says that about her son, but with Charles it was true. He was very special. Let me tell you about him.
"Charles was born with curly hair, pink cheeks, green eyes, and was very, very small. He was the kind of boy who almost obliterates himself because he´s so shy. He learned too much too soon. At age three, he was afraid of being poisoned because he read the word ´poison´ on a bottle of ammonia and the contents looked like water to him.
"He went to kindergarten a year early because we felt that, as an only child, he should be with other children. The other kids, who were bigger and older, took turns clobbering him. Finally, my husband Ed had to show him how to protect himself. ´If someone hits you,´ Ed counseled, ´punch him in the mouth, and after that he´ll leave you alone.´ This was only partially satisfactory to Charles, who wanted to know what to do if he was set upon by two people. ´Give your full attention to whichever one is bigger,´ Ed instructed. ´If you sock him good, the other one will run away.´"
A slightly self-conscious look crosses Elizabeth Horman´s face. "You know, Charles abhorred violence all of his life. That´s one of the things that make his death so intolerable.
"He loved books and always wanted to be read to. He had an extraordinarily inquisitive mind and was perpetually exploring new things. Just after he turned four, I took him to the American Museum of Natural History, and he drew a complete picture of every dinosaur there. Then he got into first grade. I went to school on Parents´ Day, and all the other children raised their hands to answer questions. Charles just sat there in the back of the room without moving a muscle. I asked him afterwards why he didn´t raise his hand. ´Because I already know the answers,´ he told me. That was all he needed for satisfaction. He didn´t have to show off in front of other people. He was happy just knowing.
"That same Parents´ Day, after the children began a written lesson, Charles´s teacher came up to me and said, ´I want to show you something.´ The children were working on a problem in which they were supposed to draw three rabbits plus two rabbits making five rabbits. Most of the kids were racing through the assignment, and had drawn all the rabbits in the wink of an eye. ´Look,´ the teacher said to me, and I looked over Charles´s shoulder. He had drawn one rabbit. He hadn´t addressed himself to the problem at all, but you should have seen that rabbit. It had eyes, ears, a tail, even fingernails. It was the most perfect rabbit you ever saw. He couldn´t have cared less about the assignment. I went home that night and told Ed, ´Wonderful. We have a genius on our hands, but he´ll never get promoted out of the first grade.´"
She laughs at the memory.
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