Lost

When I was a kid, my dad and I would go places all the time. We'd just set out on weekends and travel who knows where. We'd go to parks, shows, we'd fly to other states and see what was out there. I remember a lot of people being jealous about stuff like that, because they'd just sit at home and do homework or watch tv. I didn't really get it at the time, and I suppose to say that I do get it now wouldn't really be truthful, but at the time I didn't understand why they didn't just do it too. But that's another story.

There was one day in particular I remember a lot better than the rest of them. Unfortunately I don't remember the name of the theme park we were in that day, but it was heavily themed around children and letting them learn. For the earlier part of the day, we had mostly been riding the rides, experiencing what was there. Eating the food. That kind of stuff.

It was some time in the afternoon when we decided to check out the maze that they had. Like most things in the park, it was designed more for children than adults. Periodically in the walls of the maze, there would be small tunnels that kids could crawl through but parents could not. They were entirely unnecessary to solving the maze, and weren't always easy to track. We didn't know that at the time.

Perhaps you can see the problem with this. Clearly the park operators did not. I did not. My father did not.

But it quickly became very apparent.

The first two tunnels I traversed were unproblematic. It was maybe a minute after I had entered that my father and I would find each other, and then we would continue to search for the exit. The third tunnel, however, did not go as smoothly.

A minute passed, and I was still alone. Then another minute. Five. Ten. I began to panic. I was probably around ten years old, and while I did not have any problems being at home alone, this was most definitely not my home. I began to blindly walk the maze, not knowing where I was going or where I had already been. I passed a number of tunnels, but I did not enter a single one of them. The last tunnel I had entered was bringing me a great deal of misery, and I was not about to risk making it worse. What if one of them took me somewhere I couldn't get back from? The last one seemed to have.

It was perhaps a half hour before I managed to find my way back to the entrance of the maze. I had been crying for a long time by that point, and my throat was raw from all the screaming I had done trying to tell my dad where I was. The maze was a lot bigger than we had anticipated. The attendant outside the entrance asked me where my parents were, and I told him that I had gotten lost. He suggested I go up on the bridge that spanned over the entirety of the maze and see if I could see him inside. With a sniff and a wipe of my face, I nodded and was on my way.

As it turned out, my dad had already done the same some time ago. The whole time I had been screaming, he couldn't hear me because he was too high up and the maze was too large. I was too small. He never had a chance of spotting me. When I saw him, I ran head first into him. I had been so scared that I would never see him again.

Together we looked out over the maze and saw the path to the end. Not a single tunnel was necessary. After I had calmed down, we went back down the bridge and re-entered the maze. It didn't take us very long to finish it. I didn't leave his side once the entire time.

It was a long time before I was willing to go into a maze again, much less let my dad leave my sight while we were in one.