David and James got off the school bus for the last time that year. Summer vacation arrived, but it would be a long one with their dad unaccountably missing. The boys figured their older brother Chris got home, since the high school bus came before their own. Their older sister Beth’s car also sat in the driveway, parked a little crooked. It blocked dad’s car, but that hardly mattered. Dad had been missing for a week, and no one knew where he had gone. Chris said he asked everyone he knew. Beth said she checked the hospitals. Mom had no ideas. She just cried, a lot.

As David and James came into the run-down ranch house, David yelled.

“Mom.”

No one answered. Mom appeared to be the one person who was not home.

Backpacks went on the living room floor, and James pulled out pencil and paper. He turned to his brother. “I’m going to try and write something before I start actual vacation,” he said. “Be good and try not to disturb me. I won’t be long.”

David nodded. He wanted to see what damage he could do in the kitchen first. He watched James go down the hall to the room they shared before he stuffed his face. That did not take long, and then he feared he might get bored before his vacation even started. He paused to listen to the silence in the house.

Beth, his nineteen-year-old sister, was most likely on the phone, locked in her room, though dad said they were not supposed to lock the doors. Chris, who would be sixteen in a month, in his own locked room, probably got on the computer or started playing some videogame. Little brother James had their room where he worked on some secret thing with his pencil and paper. Mom probably went shopping. David felt like the only one left to worry. He very much wanted his dad to come home and be safe and well.

David paused at the door of his parent’s room. The bed sat empty and made. Mama said it was the strangest thing when Dad disappeared. One-minute Dad lay there, and the next he vanished, like into thin air. “Like he went invisible?” David had asked. Mama could not answer because she had been in the kitchen at the time. She did not actually see him disappear. She heard scampering, like little feet, but then he was gone and all she could do was cry. In fact, crying seemed about all she could do for the first few days—that and stare at the golden door in the living room which showed up at about the same time.

David peeked around the corner at the living room—just a step away. He looked at the door, solid gold in a silver frame. It reached to the ceiling and stood in the middle of the room with no visible support of any kind. Mom did not know what to make of it, but she said don’t tell anyone until she had a chance to think about what to do. Chris said it was only a gold painted slab of junk metal with a handle and ignored it. Beth said Dad was probably behind the door. David wondered how it stayed upright. He imagined a good knock would send it falling flat-side to the floor, and what a terrific crash that would be!

A scratching sound came from the closet in his parent’s room. David imagined Mama went out and accidentally shut Seabass the cat into the windowless, walk-in closet. “Mama would never allow the clothes to be hung in a way where they might scratch the paint,” David assured himself, out loud, to calm his nerves. He hesitated at the handle. David was not the bravest soul in the world, but he thought that maybe this once he might look. Besides, Seabass the cat was nowhere to be seen, though how the cat might have shut himself in the closet was beyond his ability to imagine.

He opened the door quickly. The late afternoon sun shot into the space. He called the cat, but nothing happened. He did not look any further. He felt afraid to look too closely, so he shut the closet door again and returned to the living room where he sat on the couch and stared at the golden door for a long time.

Seabass, the cat came to sit beside him. Catbird, the big golden retriever, yawned and got up from where he slept against the sliding doors to the back yard. That spot no longer appeared attractive once the sun dipped behind the trees and cast the whole back side of the house in shadow.

David petted Catbird’s contented golden head with one hand while his other hand stroked Seabass’ soft fur. They stayed that way for a time, until David abruptly stood. Both animals looked up, startled by the sudden movement and loss of attention. David clenched his teeth.  The fact that the door had been locked all week did not matter, except in the back of David’s mind where he hoped the door might still be locked.

“Ga!” It was unlocked. David peeked and closed the door again with another “Ga,” significantly louder than the first.

James heard. He had finished writing his letter and decided he better find out what Davey got all stirred up about. He went next door and tapped Chris on the shoulder. Chris took a couple of taps before he looked up and lowered his headphones. A piece of sandwich dangled from his mouth. He honestly wasn’t listening.

“Come on,” James said. “Come on.” He had to say it twice before Chris got up. Perhaps Chris was still not paying attention, but at least his feet started moving.

Halfway to the living room, they heard it again. “Gaaa!” It got deliberately shouted down the hallway.

“The call of the excited Davey.” James spoke under his breath as they arrived, and David shouted something at his brothers they could all understand.

“It’s unlocked!”

Chris immediately turned to get Beth and almost bumped into her as she came barreling out of her room.

“I heard,” Beth said. “What’s in there?”

Chris shrugged.

“I looked,” David grinned, and his eyes were as wide open as they could be.

“What did you see?” Beth sounded miffed that she had to ask twice.

“Gaa!” James answered for his brother. He shrugged, as if to say, “What else?”

Beth looked perturbed, but David giggled. “Gaa!” He nodded in agreement with James. He kept grinning as he pointed at the door.

Beth shoved Chris forward. Chris put on the brakes. While they stared each other down, James stepped up to look for himself. He opened the door a mere crack.

“He’s right. It’s Gaa,”

Beth frowned, swung the door wide open and almost said “Gaa!” herself.