Jacob Harris had done this many times. He knew the drill. Bad news is best told quickly, succinctly and to the point. But experience also taught him it didn’t make things any easier. He was a searcher for hire. His job was to find lost souls, but this time, he failed.

It was evening time in Savannah. Oil lamps and candles dimly lit the living room of Randle and Margaret Williams. The former opulence of the home had given way to faded colors, tattered fabrics and the musty smell of sadness. It was a common scenario in the South decades after the end of the Civil War. While some were hopeful of a new beginning as the 1800s came to a close, the Williams family was facing one last hope of finding their son, Caleb, who set off almost two decades earlier to start a new life far away from his past.

Margaret knew. She could see it in the lines on the face of the searcher. He was hired because of his reputation. In more than fifteen attempts during the previous twenty years, he found the lost and brought them home. Most alive. Some had died. In either case, the families found closure.

But this search was different. Jacob was losing his gift. Weariness cloaked him like the iron shackles of a prisoner being led to a hanging. His once strong frame now bent. He was tired.

He knew what Margaret saw. He took a deep breath that rattled in his chest and spoke the words no parent is prepared to hear. Their son was gone. He explained that he found where Caleb had settled deep in the mountains, far away from civilization. He found the cabin in a dilapidated state, covered in vines and tilted on its foundation from a tree that grew too close. He found a piece of furniture that Caleb had taken with him from the family factory. He found no signs of life.

What he didn’t find, was Caleb.

The air seemed to leap from Margaret’s lungs as she waled upon hearing the news. She didn’t want to believe it, but a mother knows. Randle comforted his wife, thanked Jacob and escorted him out of the room.

Jacob heard the heavy wooden door close behind him with a thud as he walked to his horse. The small leather pouch filled with two gold coins brought little solace to the burden he felt. He was done.

He mounted his horse and rode away into the cool mist. The searcher was now the lost.

And he wanted it that way.

(To be continued.)