You've Reached Sam(80)

“That what— you’re dead?”

A silence. I swallow hard, waiting for his response. When I sense there isn’t going to be one, I continue, my voice sharper. “I have accepted it. I accepted it a while ago.”

“It doesn’t seem that way,” Sam says. “It seems like you’re stuck on this idea that I might be coming back or something. Ever since we started talking again, it’s like you can’t seem to let me go anymore. And I’m just worried—”

“You don’t have anything to worry about,” I say back, suddenly furious.

“And let me remind you, you’re the one who picked up the phone in the first place.”

“Well, maybe I shouldn’t have.”

A shock goes through me. His words silence the both of us. I stand there, completely still, the phone clenched tightly in my hand. I can’t believe he would say that. I want to say something back, but nothing comes out.

“I’m sorry. I don’t mean that. Please don’t—” Sam starts.

I hang up the phone before he can finish. Because I don’t care to hear an apology. I stare down at the pavement, barely processing what just happened between us. Tears form behind my eyes, but I refuse to cry. Not right now. I want to go home. I don’t want to wait at the bus station anymore.

I grab my bag from the floor. But before I head off, the phone vibrates in my hand. And then it starts ringing, even though I have it on silent. The last time this happened, it was Sam calling. But we agreed he shouldn’t call again. Because if I don’t pick up, it would end the connection.

I check the screen. The number is unknown, just like last time. So I answer it.

“What do you want?” I ask.

There’s a brief silence before Sam answers. As soon as he does, I notice a pain in his voice. “I’m sorry,” he says. “But I think I need your help.”

“Sam, what’s wrong?”

He lets out a breath. “I don’t know how to explain it,” he says. “But it has something to do with my family. I have this bad feeling in my chest.

I’ve never felt it before. Have you heard from them lately?”

An ache of guilt in my chest returns. Because I haven’t spoken to them since Sam died. I’m ashamed to answer this question. “No, I haven’t in a while. I’m sorry.”

A silence between us.

“Do you think you can do something for me?” Sam asks.

“Of course. Anything.”

“Check up on my family for me, if you can … Maybe ask Mika if she knows something.”

“Do you think something’s wrong?”

“I don’t know. I really hope not.”

“Let me do it right now—”

Once we hang up the phone, I text Mika right away, asking her if something’s happened. She responds almost instantly.

It’s James. He never went to school. We think he ran away.

Everyone’s out looking for him. I’ll let you know if we find him.

I call Sam back and tell him this.

“Do they have any clue about where he is?” Sam asks.

“I don’t think so,” I say. “Mika didn’t mention anything.”

“Dang it, I wish I was there. I bet no one knows where to look.”

“Where do you think he might be? I can help search for him,” I say.

“It could be a dozen places…”

“We’ll check every single one.”

“Let me think—” His voice is strained.

“It’s gonna be okay, Sam. We’re gonna find him.”

I write down locations Sam recalls on a piece of paper and text Mika again. She takes her dad’s car to come pick me up, and we go searching for James. Mika and I divide the list of places in half, based on their proximity to each other. Since I’m taking the north side of town, Mika drops me off near the theater and I go running. I check the comic store, the drive-in, the donut shop, and everything in between. When I realize he isn’t in town, I run to the lake to see if he’s there, but there’s no sign of him. So I keep going. It’s a long jog to memorial hill, but I have to check. This one isn’t on Sam’s list of places. I had this feeling James might be there, sitting with him. Once I reach the gates and make my way up the hill, I’m disappointed to find out I’m wrong.

I check the list again. The last few places Sam named are a bit out of the way. They are locations around the old neighborhood where he used to live.

One of them is a small park where they used to ride their bikes after school.

I don’t know what the chances of James being there are. But I leave memorial hill and head for it anyway.

It takes me a while to figure out where the park is located. I’ve never been to this part of town before. I have to stop and ask people on the sidewalk for directions. When I finally find it, tucked away at the end of a cul-de-sac, I spot a familiar green jacket hanging over a bench. The second I spot James sitting alone on the swing set, staring at the ground, I stop short to catch my breath.

I haven’t spoken with him since Sam’s death. I don’t even know what to say as I approach him at the swings. Although I’m still catching my breath from the run, I keep my voice soft as I lower myself to him. “Hey there, James…” I say. “Everyone’s been looking for you, you know? You had us all worried.”