“Stop!” Michelle snapped. “Scott. They’re fifteen minuteslate. Even if they walked back from the skate park, they’d be home by now.”
“Okay,” I said, grabbing my keys. “I’ll go get ’em.”
I was more annoyed than worried when I backed out of the driveway. They were probably doing one last run. No, I wasn’t worried. I’d been that age once, and I couldn’t recall ever making it home on time. But Michelle had strict dinnertime rules, and the boys knew if she said 6:00, she meant 6:00, not 6:01.
The skate park was buzzing with kids who didn’t have six o’clock curfews. They were flying off ramps, weaving scooters through skateboarders, and blasting music from a portable speaker. But none of them were Jake or Kyle. The boys weren’t here. Where the hell were they?
Getting out of the minivan, I scanned the area. If the boys were anything like me at that age, they’d have already wedged themselves into some hidden corner with a doobie. Not that they were anything like me—Michelle ran a much tighter operation—but still. Teenage boys, plus free time, rarely equaled innocence.
I walked up to a group of middle-schoolers I recognized, and the little punks turned away like standing near me might tank their coolness score. Please. I was riding fifteen-foot waves before they even rolled out of bed this morning!
“You guys seen Jake or Kyle McKallister today?” I asked the tallest kid, who looked like he’d been born with a suspended license.
He shrugged. The others followed suit, a synchronized display of teenage unhelpfulness. One of the boys who refused to meet my eye was Kyle’s friend. He’d been in our house enough times to eat snacks on my couch without asking.
“Hey, Seth?” I said, zeroing in on him. “I’m talking to you. I’m looking for my boys. Have you seen them?”
“No,” Seth said, his eyes passing over mine on their way downward. “They didn’t come today. Haven’t seen them here since Thursday.”
That’s when something cold skimmed my stomach. Just a flick. A warning.
“You know where they might go skate if it’s not here?”
Suddenly they all found their voices. Amazing what desperation to get rid of an adult can do. A chorus of spots spilled out: the parking lot at the mall, the ditch by the high school, some stair set behind the grocery store.
“All right,” I said, forcing a casual tone even as that twinge in my gut cinched tighter. “Thanks, guys.”
Before leaving, I checked the edges of the park, the grassy areas, the bathrooms. Nothing. That twinge sharpened. I picked up my pace and called out their names, but I was met with nothing but silence.
Concern settled in. Not panic; not yet. But something inside me had already started taking inventory of everything that could go wrong, and I hated that I couldn’t find a single thing to reassure myself.
Back at the van, I called Michelle. She picked up on the first ring.
“Are they home?” I asked.
“No. Scott, they’re not here.” Her voice was already fraying. “They weren’t at the skate park?”
“No. But I got a list of places they might have gone from their friends. I’ll swing by now.”
Silence. Heavy. I pictured Michelle’s face, her rising panic, and I wanted more than anything to ease it.
Then she whispered, “What if—”
“They’re fine,” I cut in quickly, even though that same fear clawed at me. The words she couldn’t say. The words I hadn’tallowed her to speak.What if they got hurt?Or worse—what if someone took them?“I’m going to hang up now so I can look.”
“Okay. And Scott?”
“What?”
“Find them.”
“I will.”
After hanging up, I canvassed the area. Every usual haunt. The convenience store. The bike path. The alley shortcuts. The schoolyard. The side streets the boys always cut through. No Jake and Kyle.
Michelle’s voice kept replaying in my head.Find them.
I meant it when I promised I would, but the truth was… I had no explanation for their absence. The boys were never late for dinner. They’d never put Michelle through this unless there was a good reason… or a bad one.
