The Invisible Man
The Invisible Man
"Where's Stevie?" asked mom.
"We must have left him back at the lake," responded dad.
It didn't really surprise anyone, but as we had done at other times in the past, we jumped back into the car to find our lost brother. The Foxes and Smiths had spent the afternoon swimming at Lake Eureka, and by late afternoon dad and Johnnie had decided that it was time to go back to the farm. Mom had told him to be back in time for dinner. She also instructed him to count the towels, and not leave any back at the swimming area. Dad counted the towels as mom had instructed, but he forgot to count the children.
We hurriedly left the farm, drove by the baseball park on a gravel road that bordered the lake, and within a few minutes reached the swimming area. We found Stevie, who was very happy to see us again. I'm not certain if he really missed us, as the lifeguards were taking care of him. This time dad made sure that everyone was in the car before he left the lake.
Just the year before a similar incident occurred in the western South Dakota. We had spent the day touring the Badlands, and before permanently leaving the Badlands, dad stopped at the ranger station for refreshments. In those days, it wasn't much of a stop...no restaurant and inside contained a few display animals that lived in the Badlands area. More than anything else, it was the last place for the Smith children to play before we reached Robins Roost in Hill City, South Dakota.
After what seemed like a long play period, mom announced, "All right kids...its time to go."
We raced back to the car, scrambling for window seats because no one wanted to sit in the middle. Mom was preoccupied with baby Ann, but yelled back to us through habit, "Are we missing anyone?"
"No," we responded. "Everyone is here."
When dad heard that everyone was accounted for, he began the drive back to the Black Hills. He drove 10 miles to Wall, South Dakota, and at Wall, turned onto the main two lane road that led westward to our destination. After several miles down the road, mom looked into the back and asked excitedly, "Where's Stevie?"
We all looked around...and Stevie wasn't in the car. No one had realized that we left him behind...he was like the invisible man...you think he's around but you weren't really sure where. Dad turned the car around and we retraced our route back to the Ranger Station, and when we reached our destination, we saw that Stevie had been crying. Mom and dad apologized to the Ranger for leaving Stevie, and the ranger acknowledged that this happens often...not to worry. Needless to say, everyone was glad that he was safely back in the car.
it seemed that we were always looking for Stevie. He didn't really begin to talk until he was at least 3 years old, so it was easy to overlook him. As mom used to laughingly state, "he apparently had nothing to say, but when he started to talk he began speaking in full sentences." There was a period of time when finding Stevie became a daily event. When mom asked us, "Where's Stevie?", the search for our "invisible man" began.
Most days he would be down by the train tracks waiting anxiously for the train to roll into the station. Fortunately, the train stopped by only a few times a week; but that didn't seem to deter him from waiting for the train cars to begin coupling and de-coupling. Sometimes he would wander off and would have no clue where he was. One time we found him playing with toys on someone else's porch. Sometimes we would find him walking along streets or on sidewalks distant from the house. Other times he would be with an adult who was relieved that someone finally came to claim him. I can only guess how these people reacted when the little boy wouldn't talk...
Nowadays when someone in the family asks, "where's Stevie?", it should be remembered that there is a long history regarding these two little words.
Story by Terry Smith