A son, Gift from God

								
My son Sam's maturity is far behind his age. He has a baby face and looks 5 years younger than his peers. His mother was overprotective from the beginning. Growing up in the suburbs of Long Island, New York, his life is simple and uncomplicated, as pure as distilled water. 
           It was windy and cloudy in late autumn on Sunday, October 17, 2021. After lunch on Sunday, I usually take a walk in our tree-lined neighborhood, put on my headphones, and wander this higher society street. New mansions stand side by side on both sides. Most houses here cost between US$2 and US$3 million, and the residents here are mainly doctors, architects and developers. Although quiet is great for people over 55 years old like me, it is not that interesting for young people. No drugs, no baseball or basketball, no loud music or street parties.
            My son, the only child in the family, I can see that he is often bored. After graduating from university, he spent most of his time at home, avoiding the Covid pandemic, and could not find a job opportunity. He is a gentle soul, a caring boy. I remember when he was a primary school student, he saw a fly hovering on our window. His mother grabbed an old magazine and chased the fly to kill it with the magazine in her hand. Sam stopped his mother, "No, don't kill it, it is also a life." He respects every life, whether it is a dog or an ant, or an annoying fly. We have two dogs. When we took our dogs to our northern upstate New York home for the weekend, occasionally the dogs would get deer ticks. Deer ticks stick to the deep skin of a dog. They inflate into a small balloon after sucking enough blood, filled with the blood they sucked from the dogs. My son would sit on the floor with our two dogs, and he would spend a few hours picking out deer ticks one by one until there were no more deer ticks left.
             He loves his mother. He used a small wooden box to make a Bluetooth speaker for her as a Mother's Day gift. That was when he was in the second year of computer science major in college. He just learned the skill of making a Bluetooth speaker with small wood, welding and wires. It does not show the best sound quality like Bose speakers, but it sounds the most beautiful in the ears of parents, because it is made by our son and a gift from him to his mother.
              He had many friends when he was little, and they would come to his birthday party, swimming pool party, and hang out with him. He was not alone until he became a big boy. During college, he lived in a dormitory. Because the campus was large, he had to walk up to 30 minutes from class to class. His mother told me that he needs a car. We didn't want to give him a brand new car as his first car in college, so we bought a new car for his mother, and he took over his mother's old car. This car is not shabby at all, but a good SUV. The car makes it easy for him to get in and out of the campus, and he can even drive home occasionally.
               The problem started after graduating from university. He has become a young adult, but that is not the case. He has never had any work experience or interpersonal skills. He is still as pure as a piece of white paper, has no experience with girls, has never taken drugs or alcohol, has no knowledge of real world conditions, but is addicted to computer games.
 On this cloudy Sunday afternoon, it was windy in late October, and I put on a trench coat as usual to keep out the cold. I was about to go out for a walk nearby. By the way, I checked the time. It was 2:13 in the afternoon. I hate the number 13 because it is always associated with ominous things. I'm not alone. Hundreds of millions of people don't like the number 13, so many buildings in the United States don't even have the 13th  floor. Generally, after the 12th floor, jump directly to the 14th floor and avoid the number 13. I said to myself, "Oh my God, this is not a good sign. I saw 13. But what bad things will happen on Sunday?" Usually the problem occurs during the working days of the week. Because the world goes crazy on weekdays and then pauses on Sunday, I think.
            My idea is wrong. Although nothing terrible happened during my walk, at 6:32pm  in the evening,  just as the sky began to darken, an unexpected and terrible thing happened. I found my son hiding in the closet in his bedroom. I opened the closet door and saw him lying there with a blanket over him and a cellphone in his hand. Seeing me, he got up and walked out. I don't like the fact that he is playing with his phone in the dark closet. I pointed to the framed photos on the wall of his bedroom. The photos were his graduation photos from kindergarten, middle school and university. I pointed to an early photo taken on the day he graduated from elementary school on the wall and said, "Sam, look at this ten-year-old boy, is he still that Sam today?" He just murmured "Yes" without lifting his eyelids. " Have a look."  I was a little impatient and asked him to actually look at the photo I was pointing at. "Are you watching? You are not watching!" At that moment, he was suddenly emotional, dropped his phone to the ground hard, rushed out the front door barefoot, and rushed into the darkness of the night, with only a T-shirt and thin sports pants, no ID card and no money. He yelled something like "I will never see you again."
              I was stunned. I know very well that if I chase him, he will misunderstand and run faster and farther. His mother was preparing dinner in the kitchen and didn't even notice it. I told his mother to put down the food she was cooking and go to him immediately. His mother didn't realize the seriousness of the matter. She asked what was wrong, and then, as usual, turned off the gas stove, washed her hands, put on her coat, found the car key, and walked to her car. She asked me to check the house’s security camera records to see which direction he was going. In the video, we saw Sam running quickly northward along the street barefoot.

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