Period 8 - By Chris Crutcher Page 0,47
but I’m telling you bro, there was something wrong with the way Stack was talkin’. He sure didn’t think she was off somewhere with her parents. He knew some shit.”
Tak stands. “Man, I gotta get going and this man is my ride.” He punches Justin’s shoulder.
“This shit is crazy,” Justin says, shaking his head as he follows Tak out.
Paulie grabs a refill and digs into his backpack, dragging out his dog-eared copy of The Lone Ranger and Tonto Fistfight in Heaven. As good a book as it is, his mind keeps drifting back to Hannah, hard as he works to keep that from happening. A half hour passes before he feels the quick vibration of a text.
It says, soryigot uontothis mitenotgetvack wouldsaymorbut beter udon’t no imstar danger watoverhead to manymistakesto
It stops mid-sentence.
Paulie goes cold. He looks quickly at the keyboard on his iPhone. Sory...sorry I got you onto this . . . into this. It takes almost a minute to make mitenotgetvack into might not get back. Imstar makes no sense however he looks at it. There is only a number—no name—but it has to be Mary. The only person in his life that got him into anything, besides himself, is Mary.
He punches in the number but it goes straight to the message center, which informs him that the Verizon customer does not answer. It does not take messages.
He punches Mary’s regular cell, leaving a message to “Call me,” then gets no answer on Logs’s cell or the Wells’s home number.
His mind scrambles, then he punches the keyboard again, puts the cell to his ear. “Dad?”
“Ah,” his father says on the other end, “my spawn. What’s up?”
“Buy you dinner. Gotta run something past you.”
“An offer I can’t refuse,” his dad says. “I took my car to get serviced this morning and didn’t get off in time to pick it up, so you’ll have to drop by and get me.”
“On my way,” Paulie says.
“What, no IHOP?” his father says as Paulie pulls into the parking lot at Two-7, a local sports bar with a varied menu. “What’s the occasion?”
“Getting you some culture,” Paulie says.
They sit in the family section and order. The waiter brings a Coke and a microbrew, gives them time to go over the menu.
“So what’s going on?”
He shows his father Mary’s text and translates it.
“Wow.”
“What do I do?”
“You call her parents.”
“I did. No answer.”
His dad stares at the message. “I wouldn’t know where to go with this,” he says. “No answer. You think maybe her parents are forcing her into rehab?”
“I don’t think so. But she disappeared before. Isn’t it all strange enough to—”
“Tell you what, let’s run by their place and look for lights. If her parents are home and Mary’s not, they can decide what to do. Victor Wells has enough mojo to get the cops looking again.”
They wolf down their meals while Paulie tells his dad everything he knows and most of what he’s afraid of, then take the long way back to the hotel, past the darkened Wells mansion. “Nobody home,” Paulie’s dad says. “Do they have a vacation home? Can’t believe a guy with his kind of dough wouldn’t. I wish the text had said more, ‘kidnapped by my parents’ or something.”
Paulie drives back to the hotel parking lot, a sinking feeling engulfing him. “Dad, Mary flips around a lot, like from pretty sane to really crazy, but she wouldn’t send a message like that unless something was really wrong.”
“You say you don’t think it’s rehab but anyone who gets on oxys once can get sucked back in,” his father says. “You said yourself this girl is a completely different kid than you’ve known. Let’s not overreact. I’m willing to bet this clears itself up by tomorrow. Statistically the worst-case scenario doesn’t usually play out, you know that. I’m betting you hear from her again soon and all this will make sense. But you call me if you think I can help.”
Paulie brakes in front of his dad’s room. “Thanks, Dad.” He leans over and gives him a quick, uncomfortable hug. “By the way, what’s the latest on your imminent return?”
“Not so imminent,” his dad says. “I think maybe you were right: your mom’s had enough. I’m moving out of here in a week and getting into something semi-permanent.”
Paulie watches him get out of the car, rolls down the window as he closes the door. “Whatever happens,” he says, “you’re still my dad. I just want you guys to stop killing each other.”
Roger