The Year We Disappeared

Author Cylin Busby recounts a traumatic moment in her childhood during which her father, John, a police officer, faces reconstructive surgery after being shot in the face. Their hometown of Falmouth, MA holds a fundraiser to cover his medical expenses, and Cylin, unable to process the possibility of losing her father, frets over asking for a free cookie at the bake sale, while her brothers morbidly discuss viewing their father’s skeleton. Cylin ponders a strange paradox put forth by her cousin: “Everyone thinks your dad is going to die. But you’re lucky—you don’t have to go to school” (4). Those youthful paradoxes are soon replaced by the more mundane activity of waiting—waiting to see if her father survives the surgery and waiting to see if her family will be targeted again. 

Cylin details her early memories of life with a father in law enforcement. John Busby works the late shift (11 o’clock in the evening until eight o’clock in the morning) and sleeps during the day, so Cylin’s mother, Polly, keeps the kids out of the house during the day so John can sleep. On days when John wears his brown suit, Cylin knows he is scheduled to testify in court.