a true Halloween horror story

When Thomas and I arrived home at 5 last night, ready for some trick-or-treating, Bill told me "Henry isn't home yet."
"What do you mean?" I asked.
The bus always drops him off at 4 pm. Bill thought that maybe because of the rainy weather and/or Halloween parties at school, the bus was running late. An hour late.
"I'm going to run over to the school," I said. (What I meant was: I'm going to run over to Kate's school to see if Henry's with her. )
"I'll go." Bill said. He headed over to the school complex, stuck his head in to Kate's practice, didn't see Henry in there, and went on to the elementary school. He was able to get in touch with Henry's teacher, and confirm that she had placed Henry on the bus.
Meanwhile, at home, I searched frantically for the school bus driver's phone number. I know she has given it to me, but could not, in the heat of the moment, find it anywhere. In desperation, I called the police.

I told the dispatcher my name, and that my son hadn't come home from school.

She asked me to describe him.

I wouldn't wish this on my worst enemy: having to describe your child to the police.

"He has kind of wavy blond hair. And he's wearing a Darth Vader costume."

"Can you tell me anything else about him? Like, does he wear glasses?"

"Yes, yes, he wears glasses." How could I have forgotten to mention the glasses?

She said they had all their officers working that night, and she would have them start looking for Henry. A 3 ft. tall kid wearing a Darth Vader costume on Halloween night. No problem.

I told her that my husband had gone up to the school and was going to see if Henry was with our daughter at basketball practice.

Bill was still in Henry's classroom and had started calling the parents of other kids in Henry's class, to see if their sons got home ok.

A police officer called me back to ask me more questions: what was his bus number?

"I don't know- it's just the one bus." I know I sounded like a complete idiot at this point, but I have never looked at the bus number. The rest of our district is not bussed- the only kids who ride the bus are the special ed kids. Why did the police officer not know that?

While I was talking/blubbering to him, someone interrupted him to say that they had found Henry- in the high school gymnasium with the basketball team!

I was so relieved, but still confused.

Kate's practice was supposed to start at 3:30. Henry's bus doesn't drop him off until 4. So how was it that those two crossed paths?

Bill says that it didn't even occur to him that Henry might be with Kate. It was the only thing that occurred to me. If he wasn't with her, he was with an awful person for horrific reasons that I can't even let my mind put into complete thoughts.

The police dispatcher had asked if Henry might have gone to a friend's house? Or started trick-or-treating early, on his own? No no no no- you don't know my son. He's different than other 1st graders. He wouldn't have done either of those things.

I know all's well that ends well. The boys got to go trick-or-treating and had no ill effects from the 1/2 hour of confusion.

Our busy schedules, combined with some miscommunication, just got the better of us this time.

But I feel like a cold mist of dread has settled over me and I just can't shake it.

This may very well have been the worst experience of my life. It runs neck and neck with the afternoon spent at the emergency room last May. That was awful, but at least I was with Henry and holding on tight to him.

Now I feel like I never want to let him go again.

(Tommy was going to be Darth Vader also, but at the last minute switched to the Human Torch.)