He was quiet and made people uneasy.
His parents took him to a shrink and the shrink laid out an array of brightly-colored pills. “Two of these at bedtime, one of those before breakfast, and this red one at noon. He’ll be right as rain before you know it,” said the shrink.
They pumped in the pills, but nothing changed.
And then one morning when his father threw open the bedroom door and sang out, “Rise and shine!” like he did every morning, the room was empty. His bed was made with hospital corners and his slippers were lined up neatly at the foot of the bed, but he was nowhere in sight.
For a week after that his father continued throwing open the door and calling, “Rise and shine!” and then he gave up on it.
He and his wife went on about their lives, and soon it was as if the boy had never existed.