Help for the Haunted(39)

My father repeated the information, offering a description of Howie and Rose too.

“You a cop or something?” she asked in her real voice this time, which sounded squeakier than I would have guessed.

“No. I’m not a cop.”

“So what are you? Besides creepy, I mean.”

Her friends laughed, but my parents did not acknowledge them. I hoped my father wouldn’t answer by explaining his occupation, so what he said relieved me. “I’m just a worried parent. That’s all.”

Who can predict the way people will react to a basic truth? I would not have guessed that my father’s words would cause that girl to quit teasing, but they did. She smiled and told him, “Sorry to say, there’s not been anybody like that here tonight.”

“Maybe you can try Fun and Games over in Silver Springs,” another of the girls with the same ropy bracelets suggested. “That place is open for another hour. Right, Duane?”

The skateboarder nodded and mumbled directions. My father thanked them and we were on our way. But a short while later we arrived in Silver Springs to find no sign of the truck there, either. Since the place was open, my father got out of the car. I had never been inside an arcade before, and if I asked to come in with him, I knew he’d tell me to stay behind. So I didn’t ask. I just opened my door and got out too. My father looked at me, surprised, but didn’t resist. After we stepped into the flashing lights, he weaved among the clusters of teenagers to a booth in the back where he spoke to the manager. I used the opportunity to take in those machines, blinking and buzzing away. A group of girls huddled around a game until it released a series of disappointing beeps and they stomped off. In the wake of their departure, I approached and stared at the round, yellow face on the screen, the pink bow, the dots in the maze. I put my hand on the control but had no money to make it work.

I’m guessing you like Ms. Pac-Man and Ping-Pong . . .

The girl doesn’t like any of the normal things kids her age like . . .

“Ready, Sylvie?” my father said from behind me.

“Can I play?”

“Play? Now?”

“Just a quick one. It’s only twenty-five cents.”

My father sighed. “Sylvie, you are far too bright to waste your time with this nonsense. Besides, we need to get back to looking for your sister.”

“But I don’t want to,” I said before I could stop myself.

My father grew quiet, same as when my mother challenged him in the car. In that video screen, I could see his blurry reflection—tilted head, raised eyebrows—a look usually reserved for Rose. “You don’t want to look for your sister?”

“It’s like you said about Uncle Howie. Maybe it’s better we keep our distance. Let her do what she wants, since she’s the one who chose to go with him.”

“This is nothing like the situation with your uncle. He’s a grown man. Your sister is a kid. Now I’m not sure what’s gotten into you, but I won’t have you acting out too. You’re our good daughter. The one we rely on and trust to do what we need. Right now what we need is to get back to finding Rose. So let go of that game and follow me.”

I took a breath. If Rose’s behavior had proved one thing, it was that it was easier to give my father the daughter he wanted. That daughter pulled her hand away. That daughter followed him outside.

The Mustang. The Teeter-Totter. The Frog Pond. Those were just a few of the bars where we stopped so my father could inquire if anyone had seen them. But no one had. At each place, I waited in the car with my mother, listening to the rain pound on the roof. At last, after one in the morning, she suggested we call it quits.

“You want to stop?” my father said.

“It’s not that I want to, Sylvester. But I don’t know what more we can do at the moment. It’s apparent we aren’t going to find her out here tonight.”

“Maybe they headed back to Howie’s apartment in Tampa? It’s only a hundred miles away. They could be there by now.”

“It’s a possibility. But even so, I don’t think we should drive there without knowing for sure. Better we go back to the hotel and call first. At the very least, we can leave a message telling her to let us know where she is so we can come get her.”

Reluctantly, my father turned the car around while my mother continued staring out that window. “I suppose you’re right,” he said once we were headed in the opposite direction. “We don’t have much choice, do we?”

Back at the hotel, the three of us climbed the stairs to the second floor, a weary silence all around. The moment my father snapped on the light in our room, we saw Rose curled beneath the covers in one of the beds. She lifted her head from the pillow. “Hey.”

“Hey?” my father said.

“Where were you?” my mother asked.

“Uncle Howie took me to—”

“You know what?” my father shouted. “Never mind. How did you get in here?”

“The lady at the front desk gave me a key.” Rose yawned, messed with her hair. “She’s one of those too-tan Florida freaks. I took one look at her wallet face and—”

“Let’s go!” my father shouted, charging toward the bed. He ripped back the covers and yanked Rose by the arm, lifting her up and off from the mattress. “Let’s go! Let’s go!”