"Missing" 288 Belford Drive, Denver Colorado, circa 1970.

My old neighbourhood during the change of the season from autumn to winter.

So many years ago, recalling riding my bike through the fog, closing my eyes, to then stop abruptly, because it was too quiet, too still.

As ten year old boys' do, alone in the dark and fog, paticularly when there is no one around can be very scary.

On the curb next to my bike I sat quietly, listening to the sounds of, well,

nothing, total silence

The fog turned to a thick soup, there on the curb, seeing two feet in front of you was an impossible task.

The thunder and lightning began their diatribe.

I was lost in a cloud.

Panic set in as my orientation was lost...right or left?

It began to rain, then rain harder as the raindrops hurt my face, so rather than sit there like a scared rabbit, I rode in a direction that I hope would led me to home.

The rain was unrelenting.

Riding a bike in the rain and the dark is interesting if not dangerous.

In the distance I saw multi-coloured lights, thus headed in that direction.

Skidded to a stop in front of the house, (though never seeing this house before) decided to knock on the door and get some directions.

The door was surrounded with lights, like it was Christmas, and easy to see through the rain and fog.

I rang the door bell and waited, wet, cold and shivering.

The door finally opened and there stood a strange old lady. Her hair pure white, swept back in a bun. She looked like a gypsy, too many earings and braclets, too much make-up and her dressing gown one would associate with Bohemians. (Of the Eastern variety.)

"You are lost!' she said.

"Come in you poor little boy and I will call your mother."

Walking into her house, detected the scent of violets and sandlewood incence...candles sat on every shelf, all lit, burning bright, though the best memory is the warmth of the room...I felt safe.

"Sit here little one." and she wrapped a blanket around me.

"What is your name phone number, so I can call your Mother to come for you?"

I gave her my name and phone number, where upon she disappeared in another room.

While she was away, an old cat sat on top of an old, overly stuffed chair, yawned, stretched and meowed at me. The old cat sauntered over and merely sat and continued to stare into my eyes.

"Go way!" I said.

The old woman then entered the room again with a surprised expression.

"I spoke with your mother...how long have you been away from home?"

Strange question, I thought.

"No more than a couple of hours."

She laughed and suddenly turned serious.

"According to your mother, you have been missing for three days and the police have been looking for you, too."

"Crap, I just got lost in the fog and then found this place!"

Then she asked, "Do you know where you are?"

"Yea, Northglenn, where I live..."

She smiled and said,

"Well little one, you are in South Denver, fifty miles from where you live."

"That can't be right, I've been riding for only a few hours..."

A few hours later my dad arrived and thanked the old woman...

He placed my bike in his trunk, and did not say a word the whole trip home;

nor did I.

At that stage the rain had stopped and the evening's last glimmer of light appeared.

Once home, strangely, mom did not yell or anything, but put me in the shower, fed me chops and duly sent me to bed.

Over all these years, nothing has been mentioned about this incident again...

Though even today, upon reflection, this experience continues to be disturbing.