Burn Before Reading(99)

“Hey Dad, it’s me. Just wanted to see where you were. Did you go to the little corner store for food? Call me back when you can.”

I wait.

Ten minutes, and I call again. Twenty minutes. This time I don’t stop calling, leaving him message after message.

“Dad, please pick up. I’m worried.”

I bite my nails, calling him again.

“Please,” I beg softly. “Please, pick up.”

When he doesn’t I force myself to stay calm. Maybe it’s a very long walk. Maybe he and Mom are together, as doubtful as that is. I call her phone, but she doesn’t answer, either. She must be with a patient. I can’t stand the silence in the house, so I turn the TV on. The commercials are vapid and stupid, but they’re enough to take the burning edge of my anxiety off. Everything’s fine. Everything will be fine.

My phone buzzes, and I jump to answer it – it’s Mom.

“Hey honey, did you call me?”

“Yeah, um, is Dad with you?”

“No,” She says carefully. “Is he not at the house?”

“No. I can’t find him.”

“Did you check –”

“I checked the basement, your room, my room – everywhere. He’s not here.”

“It’s okay, sweetie. Just calm down. Maybe he went to the store down the street.”

“That’s what I thought too, but he hasn’t come back. And he’s not answering his phone.”

“Well, you should walk around the neighborhood and ask if someone’s seen him.”

“Okay, yeah,” I pull my jacket back on. “That’s a good idea. Can you keep trying his phone?”

“He won’t pick up for me anymore, you know that.”

“Yeah but, maybe if you do it enough –”

“I’ll do what I can, honey. I’m still here at the hospital for two more hours, and then I’ll be home.”

“Right. Okay.” I deflate, all the comfort I took in thinking she’d come home to help me evaporating. I’m just overreacting. She doesn’t need to leave work – he’s safe. He just went somewhere.

I walk the usual path he takes to the corner store. A neighbor mowing her lawn says she saw him walking, and points to the south, the exact opposite direction of the store. That only confuses me and makes me worry more – where was he headed, if not the store?

I ask a kid on his bike, and he points me to the bus stop, and I feel like being sick. Dad could be anywhere. He could be doing anything right now – hurting himself again. All I can see in my mind is him, dead, hung from some tree, slit open at his wrists – I manage to not freak out in front of the kid, and head to a dim alley. The second I’m alone I start breathing, hard and fast, the tears threatening. I’m being illogical. I’m overreacting. He isn’t hurting himself. He wouldn’t. He’s my dad. He loves me. He won’t kill himself, no matter how badly ill he is, if he still has me.

“I-It’s okay,” I waver. “It’s going to be okay, Bee. You’re going to be okay. Dad’s going to be fine. You just have to – you just have to –”

I call Mom’s phone quickly, and she picks up this time. I tell her everything as calmly as I can, and she sighs.

“Oh honey, don’t worry so much.”

“But Mom, he –”

“He used to do this all the time when we were dating,” she insists. “IF he wanted some time alone he’d take the bus and go somewhere by himself.”

“Mom, it’s more than that, all my books say –”

“You don’t know everything, Bee!” Her snap leaves me stunned. “No matter how many books you read, you’re no expert on your father. I know him better than you do. He’s fine. So please stop worrying and just go home.”

“But – But he took three pills last night, and a few weeks ago he and I packed up his stuff. He sold his typewriter, Mom! He loves that thing! He’s going through –”

“We all know what he’s going through!” She says shrilly. “What about me, hm? What about you? We’re going through just as much as he is!”

“Mom – please, come home –”

“I refuse to let that man control my life anymore,” Mom insist. “I’m not coming home, Bee. Not until I’m finished here. He’s fine. You’ll see – he’ll come home and then you’ll feel silly. Now please, stop calling me. I have work to do.”

She hangs up, and the silence rings in my ears. I suddenly feel so small, so alone.

Maybe she’s right. Maybe he is fine. But my stomach won’t settle with just a ‘maybe’. I have to know. Everything I’d learned tells me this isn’t right. And even if Mom thinks my knowledge is useless, I have to trust it.

It’s all I have.

It’s all I can rely on.

But I’m lost. I have no idea where he could be. I keep trying his phone, but get nothing. I’m running out of time. I can feel it. If I don’t find him soon, something awful will happen.

But I’m alone.

I’m just one girl. What can I hope to do? If I drive around looking for him, I’ll never find him. Everything suddenly feels hopeless. I collapse against the alley wall, and the tears flow. I can’t stop them. I can’t stop what’s happening – to Dad, to me. I can’t stop the crushing pressure on my chest.