Redhead by the Side of the Road - Anne Tyler Page 0,37

old.”

“Yes, but—”

“And wasn’t hauled off kicking and screaming, I assume.”

“No…”

“How did he happen to leave?” Micah asked.

“Well, first he left school and came home, which was mystery number one. It’s fall semester! He’d just started school in September! He told us he was doing fine. Not that we heard all that much from him—no more than a random text now and then. Things like How many of those detergent-pod things do I put in the washing machine? and Did you pack my nose spray by any chance? That kind of thing. But he’s a teenage boy, after all. I wasn’t expecting any heart-to-heart conversations.”

“Well, no,” Micah said.

“Then last week I came home from work and heard music playing up in his room. I climbed the stairs, knocked on his door, stuck my head in, and there he was, lying on his bed staring at the ceiling. I said, ‘Brink!’ I said, ‘Honey? What are you doing here?’ He said, ‘Do I have to have a reason to be in my own room?’ I said, ‘But how did you get here? And what about Montrose? What about your classes?’ He said, ‘I hitched a ride with a guy in my dorm. I’m taking a break from my classes.’ And then he turned over on his side and faced the wall.”

Micah tsked.

“Well, I thought I’d give him a little time,” she said. “I figured maybe he was trying to get up the nerve to tell me something. I mean, that he’d flunked out or something. But this is only October! How could he have flunked out already? At any rate, I went back downstairs, and when Roger came home I sent him up. Brink and Roger have this kind of…edgy relationship, like a lot of fathers and sons, but I thought in this case Brink might want to talk with a man. I mean, if it was some male-type thing bothering him. But Roger got no more out of him than I had. We were both just flummoxed. So that was this last Thursday, and Brink stayed Friday, Saturday, Sunday…He came down for meals but he didn’t talk, not even to his brother and sister. They were both thrilled to see him at first, but he wouldn’t even look at them.”

“Maybe he’s had some kind of shock to the ego,” Micah said. “Like, he’d thought he was such a big deal in high school but then he got to college and found out everyone was a big deal.”

“Yes, I thought of that,” Lorna said. “I was hoping that was all it was. So Monday I took off from work early and invited him to come grocery shopping. I was planning on the car effect. You know how kids who don’t talk to their parents will spill their souls out once they get in a moving vehicle. It’s like what’s said in a car doesn’t count. And I figured he must be going stir-crazy lying around in his room; maybe he’d be glad of any excuse to get out. Plus he and Roger had gotten into this little, like, dustup over the weekend and so I knew there was no hope there. Roger can act kind of heavy-handed sometimes. He just has trouble understanding that some kids need to…that not every kid in the world can be an instant success. So anyhow, I guess Brink decided he might as well come with me—what did he have to lose? And once we got on the road I started talking about my first semester in college. I said I’d felt like a country bumpkin. ‘But you, now,’ I told him, ‘you have so much going for you, honey! Soon enough, people are going to realize that. You’re so good at sports, and so musical!’ Did he tell you he plays the guitar? He has perfect pitch. I don’t know where he gets that from. Not from my side, certainly. He can summon up a phone number purely by remembering the tones it makes when you dial it.”

“Really?” Micah said. This was interesting. “Wait, does a phone number sound the same on whatever kind of phone you’re using?”

Lorna gave him a look.

“Sorry,”