number. He answers on the second ring.
I'm surprised for some reason to hear his voice. It sounds different on the phone, kind of thick. He says hello, and I just stand with my mouth hanging open.
CRAZY GLUE :
Say something already, goob. He's said hello twice already.
"Uh, hello—uh—Pete? It's—it's Jason, uh—yeah, and I'm—I'm in trouble. I need your help."
"Pope-a-Dope? What's happened? Where are you?"
"It's my dad—he's missing. I can't find him anywhere." My voice cracks. It feels like a wadded sock is stuck in my throat. I squeeze my eyes shut. "And he—he's got mental problems. He's a little—mentally ill." There, I've said it. For the first time ever. I feel sick. I'm dizzy. I've betrayed my dad—and my mom.
FBG WITH A MUSTACHE :
She may have told you never to tell anyone, but these are extenuating circumstances.
I hold on to the metal shelf below the phone.
AUNT BEE :
Steady. Steady. Everything's okay.
"Oh man, have you called the hospital?"
"Yeah. Yeah, I've called around. He could be anywhere. I don't have a car and I thought that maybe..."
"You're in the old section by the warehouse galleries, right?"
"Right, number four-oh-nine River Road."
"Be there in about twenty minutes."
"Thanks, Pete." I try to swallow the sock in my throat. It hurts too much. "Be careful; the roads are really slick," I say, but he's already hung up.
I stand there a moment, stunned, but then I think of Dad and I hurry back home, stopping on my way at our neighbors' houses. Only one person has come home from work, so far, and she says it's been weeks since she's seen my dad—or her newspaper.
LAUGH TRACK :
Uh-oh!
I run home and head upstairs to get into a dry pair of jeans and a dry flannel shirt and wool sweater. I notice Dad's coat missing on the rack at the bottom of our stairs. At least wherever he is, he's got his coat.
I wait in the living room by the windows so I can see Pete coming down the road. I want to meet him outside so he doesn't come in and find out how we've been living.
"My dad has mental problems." I say this out loud just the way I said it to Pete. I listen to the sound of it.
CRAZY GLUE :
You did that real good, goob. It sounds just as natural as saying your dad has a blue car or he's got a pocket watch.
Pete's orange VW Beetle pulls up outside. I hustle out the door and wave before he has a chance to step out of his car. He leans over and unlocks the door for me on the passenger side, and I get in.
"Thanks for coming, Pete." I notice a crystal hanging from the rearview mirror. The car, an old seventies model, smells like a garage—heavy on the gasoline.
"No problem." He smiles. "I've just got to be back by seven. We're doing that intervention for my dad tonight."
I shake my head. "I shouldn't have called you out here. I'm sorry. I just didn't know who else to call."
"Really, it's no sweat. This will take my mind off my own family's mess for a while." He snickers. "Fathers, huh?"
CRAZY GLUE : "
Snickers"? Did you just say "snickers"?
"Yeah." I nod. "Fathers."
He pulls out into the street. "So, where should we look first?"
I shake my head. "He could be almost anywhere. I've gone into all the shops, but I thought we could maybe ride down all the back roads along here and see if we can see him, and then go over to the park. He and my mom used to like to go walking there."
"Good, okay." Pete speeds up and shifts into third gear.
"So, what's your father been into lately? Maybe that would give us a clue."
CRAZY GLUE :
Being nuts!
"Mythology, I guess. I mean, my dad and I are both into Greek mythology, only now he's—he's kind of living in it full-time." I grip the door handle. I can't believe I'm telling him this.
AUNT BEE : Go ahead, dear.
It's all right.
Pete looks at me as if he doesn't understand, so I push myself to explain some more.
CRAZY GLUE :
Yeah, you don't want him to think
you're
nuts, do you?
"So it's like every morning when I leave for school, he thinks I'm
I'm surprised for some reason to hear his voice. It sounds different on the phone, kind of thick. He says hello, and I just stand with my mouth hanging open.
CRAZY GLUE :
Say something already, goob. He's said hello twice already.
"Uh, hello—uh—Pete? It's—it's Jason, uh—yeah, and I'm—I'm in trouble. I need your help."
"Pope-a-Dope? What's happened? Where are you?"
"It's my dad—he's missing. I can't find him anywhere." My voice cracks. It feels like a wadded sock is stuck in my throat. I squeeze my eyes shut. "And he—he's got mental problems. He's a little—mentally ill." There, I've said it. For the first time ever. I feel sick. I'm dizzy. I've betrayed my dad—and my mom.
FBG WITH A MUSTACHE :
She may have told you never to tell anyone, but these are extenuating circumstances.
I hold on to the metal shelf below the phone.
AUNT BEE :
Steady. Steady. Everything's okay.
"Oh man, have you called the hospital?"
"Yeah. Yeah, I've called around. He could be anywhere. I don't have a car and I thought that maybe..."
"You're in the old section by the warehouse galleries, right?"
"Right, number four-oh-nine River Road."
"Be there in about twenty minutes."
"Thanks, Pete." I try to swallow the sock in my throat. It hurts too much. "Be careful; the roads are really slick," I say, but he's already hung up.
I stand there a moment, stunned, but then I think of Dad and I hurry back home, stopping on my way at our neighbors' houses. Only one person has come home from work, so far, and she says it's been weeks since she's seen my dad—or her newspaper.
LAUGH TRACK :
Uh-oh!
I run home and head upstairs to get into a dry pair of jeans and a dry flannel shirt and wool sweater. I notice Dad's coat missing on the rack at the bottom of our stairs. At least wherever he is, he's got his coat.
I wait in the living room by the windows so I can see Pete coming down the road. I want to meet him outside so he doesn't come in and find out how we've been living.
"My dad has mental problems." I say this out loud just the way I said it to Pete. I listen to the sound of it.
CRAZY GLUE :
You did that real good, goob. It sounds just as natural as saying your dad has a blue car or he's got a pocket watch.
Pete's orange VW Beetle pulls up outside. I hustle out the door and wave before he has a chance to step out of his car. He leans over and unlocks the door for me on the passenger side, and I get in.
"Thanks for coming, Pete." I notice a crystal hanging from the rearview mirror. The car, an old seventies model, smells like a garage—heavy on the gasoline.
"No problem." He smiles. "I've just got to be back by seven. We're doing that intervention for my dad tonight."
I shake my head. "I shouldn't have called you out here. I'm sorry. I just didn't know who else to call."
"Really, it's no sweat. This will take my mind off my own family's mess for a while." He snickers. "Fathers, huh?"
CRAZY GLUE : "
Snickers"? Did you just say "snickers"?
"Yeah." I nod. "Fathers."
He pulls out into the street. "So, where should we look first?"
I shake my head. "He could be almost anywhere. I've gone into all the shops, but I thought we could maybe ride down all the back roads along here and see if we can see him, and then go over to the park. He and my mom used to like to go walking there."
"Good, okay." Pete speeds up and shifts into third gear.
"So, what's your father been into lately? Maybe that would give us a clue."
CRAZY GLUE :
Being nuts!
"Mythology, I guess. I mean, my dad and I are both into Greek mythology, only now he's—he's kind of living in it full-time." I grip the door handle. I can't believe I'm telling him this.
AUNT BEE : Go ahead, dear.
It's all right.
Pete looks at me as if he doesn't understand, so I push myself to explain some more.
CRAZY GLUE :
Yeah, you don't want him to think
you're
nuts, do you?
"So it's like every morning when I leave for school, he thinks I'm
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