Approximately 8:00 pm. Saturday. Talking to my mom on the phone. Her call waiting beeps.

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Mom: Oh, that’s J’s house. I hope it’s C telling me that he called. She hasn’t heard from him since he left for hunting on Monday.

[Ed. note: FIVE days ago!]

She answers it and calls me back a few minutes later.

Mom:I’m just sick. The police are on their way over to get photographs and C is filing a missing persons report.

Me: Puked in my mouth. Oh my God! He always calls every few days, doesn’t he?…blah blah blah…

Mom: Yep. And the wife of the dude he’s with said they were supposed to be back Thursday night.

[Ed. note: Forty-eight hours ago - meaaning a missing persons report could have been files twenty-four hours ago. Making me even angrier once it was pointed out by the ever-logical BG.]

Me:Do you want me to come home?

Mom: There’s nothing you can do here. I’ll call you when I hear anything.

Me: Okay. I love you.

Mom: I love you, too.

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A few minutes passes, and C calls. She explains the same thing. He’s been gone 5 days. She hasn’t heard a word. He hunts out of cell phone range, but in the past has always driven out of the bush to call and check it at least every 2-3 days. We chat. Agree that we’re both going to throw up with worry. We get off the phone when the other dude’s wife shows up so they can file the report together.

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The BG and I are trying to watch Lost on the laptop but I can’t concentrate. I can’t even hold my tea because my hands are shaking, and sometimes I forget to exhale. I pray. A lot. I ask God to send J an angel to help him get home safely. I wonder if I should drive to the area and start searching, but realize that I have to breastfeed and can’t go anywhere. We know the general mountainous area that they’re in, but have no idea where to begin looking. I imagine myself at my brother’s funeral. I imagine him lying in the snow with broken legs. Starving. I imagine him being attacked by a grizzly. I imagine his baby daughter growing up without a daddy. I have a very over-active imagination when I’m worried and I can’t shut it off. It’s genetic.

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10:30 pm. The same night.

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The phone rings. I answer it before the first ring is half done.

Mom: He’s okay! He’s okay!

Me: Well, what the hell? Where is he?

Mom: C was sitting with the police filing her report when the phone rang. The police officer says “I bet that’s him.” C picked up the phone and it was my brother. She tells him that dude’s wife and the police are there and they’re in the middle of filing a missing persons report. He says “YOU’RE WHAT?!? I’m 4 hours from home. I’ll be there at 2:30 am. There’s no hunting on Sundays and I was never planning to come home before tonight.

Bottom line?

Dude’s little kid said to dude’s wife that he thought Daddy was coming home on Thursday. She freaked when she hadn’t heard from him. She called C and caused her to freak out. (She hadn’t been freaking out prior to this because she knows my brother well and knows how well trained he is - he doesn’t take stupid chances.)

Dude didn’t know anything about this and neither did J. They didn’t call because they were deep in the bush and didn’t need groceries. When they called to let the ladies know they were on their way home, they were oblivious to the state of insanity we were all in.

When I told my mom that I had asked God to send J. an angel to get him home safely, her reply was this.

Mom: With a chuckle…Well, now that he’s okay God can send him a kick in the ass. I told C. to tell him that I’m burying all of his guns and he’s buying me my next bottle of hair dye.