What Follows After: A Novel (3 page)

Scott stood up and hurried toward the telephone.

Following right behind him, his mother said, “Do you think she’s mad because you’re telling me your secret?”

“No,” Scott said, following Mamie Lee down the hallway. “I didn’t even tell her I was coming here.”

“Then how did she know you were here?”

“I don’t know. Maybe she tried to reach me at work. I told my boss where I was going.” He stopped and turned. “Could you stay here? I don’t want her to hear you over the phone.”

“Well, Scott, what difference does that make now? She already knows you’re here.”

He looked at Mamie Lee. She whispered loudly, “I didn’t know you comin’ here was a secret.”

“You didn’t do anything wrong, Mamie.” He stood by the table in the hallway, staring down at the phone.
What on earth could Gina be calling about?

“Aren’t you going to pick it up?” his mother said quietly.

So he did. “Hello? Gina?”

“Oh Scott, they aren’t here. We’ve looked everywhere. But they’re not here!” She was half yelling, half crying.

“What are you talking about? Who’s not where?” He looked at
his watch and answered his own question. The boys. This was the time Gina picked them up from school.

“Colt and Timmy. I came to get them like I always do, and they’re not here. They always stand by the flagpole near the front steps. Every day. I sat in my car by the curb and waited for fifteen minutes, but they didn’t show up. I knew something had to be wrong. I figured one of them might have misbehaved in class and had to stay after to wash the blackboards. Maybe Colt, but not Timmy. He’s never gotten into trouble.”

“Is there some kind of after-school game they could’ve gone to, some kind of team practice?” Scott said. “Maybe they told you and you forgot?”

“No, there’s no after-school game. I checked. And neither one of the boys is on any team. I told you Colt had tried out for basketball, but he didn’t make it.”

“Maybe they went home with one of their friends to play. Haven’t they done that before? You know, go right from school to their friend’s house?”

“I let Colt do it twice so far this year. But not Timmy, he’s too young. And Colt would never do that without asking.”

“Maybe he did ask, and you just forgot?”

“That’s not what happened, Scott. He didn’t ask, and I didn’t forget. Besides, he wouldn’t have left Timmy at the flagpole by himself. Even if I had said yes. He would’ve known he’d have to wait there until I arrived to pick Timmy up.”

Scott didn’t know why he was saying these things. Gina wasn’t stupid, and Colt would never do anything irresponsible with his little brother. With the five years in between them, there had rarely ever been any sibling rivalry. He and Gina had sometimes joked how Colt reminded them of Wally looking after the Beaver.

“What’s going on?” Scott’s mother said. “Are the boys okay?”

Scott put his palm over the phone. “I don’t know, Mom. They weren’t where they were supposed to be when Gina went to pick them up.”

“Well, you know boys . . . always into mischief. I’m sure they’re okay.” But her face was filled with worry.

“Boys are so curious that way,” Mamie Lee said. She also looked worried.

“Scott, I need you to stop talking with your mom and Mamie Lee and listen to me. Their teachers said they were never in class at all today!”

“What!” Scott said. “That doesn’t make any sense. Didn’t you drop them off this morning?”

“Yes, of course I did.”

“Did you see them go in the building?”

A slight pause. “Not exactly. I was running a little late for work, so I dropped them off where I always do, right by the front steps.”

Late for work, Scott thought. She wouldn’t even be at work if she hadn’t left him. There wasn’t a mother in their neighborhood who worked outside the home.

“We waved good-bye,” Gina continued, “and then I drove off. But I’m sure they went inside. Why wouldn’t they? The front door was just fifty feet in front of them. The whole sidewalk on both sides was covered with kids. All of them heading into school.”

“Then someone must’ve seen them go in. One of their friends. Did you talk to any of them?”

“I couldn’t. By the time I was done searching the hallways and talking with Timmy’s teacher, all but a few of the kids were gone. And I didn’t recognize any of them.”

“Well, something must have happened,” he said. “I mean something simple, something we’re not thinking about.” He thought a moment. “Wait, if the boys weren’t in class this morning, and
you didn’t call in to say they were sick, wouldn’t the school office have called you?”

Another brief pause. “They’re saying they did call, but no one answered at home. They said they left a message with someone at work, but . . . I never got it. Should I call the police?”

Maybe they’d better, he thought. But crimes against kids were almost unheard of, especially in small towns like Daytona Beach. He was sure they were fine. “We may have to. But listen, I’m going to leave here right now and head there. Why don’t you go back inside the office and make a list of all of their friends. Talk to both their teachers before they leave for home. See if the boys have any friends in class we don’t know about. Then see if the principal will help you get the telephone numbers for all these kids’ parents. I should be there by then. We’ll start calling everyone on the list.”

“But what if they walked home? If somehow we missed each other, and they walked home? Shouldn’t one of us be there?”

“Okay, I’ll drive by and check before I stop at the school. Then I’ll drive slowly to school, taking the roads they’d use if they walked.”

“Okay,” Gina said. “But Scott, please hurry.”

“I will.”

“And pray,” she said.

“I’ll do that too.”

He hung up and looked at his mother. “I’ve gotta go.”

“Well, not yet,” she said. “Aren’t you going to tell us what’s going on?”

“There’s not that much to tell.” In two minutes he gave them a rough overview of the situation. A look of alarm grew on both their faces as he talked. “Really, I have to go.” He hurried toward the front door.

“You call us the minute you hear something,” his mother called out over his shoulder.

“We’ll be praying, Mister Scott. You know we will.”

“I’m counting on it,” he said as he flew down the porch steps. Although at the moment, he wasn’t feeling too sure the Almighty was listening to his prayers. He’d been struggling with his faith ever since Gina had left him. But he knew God would always listen to Mamie Lee’s prayers.

He took some comfort from that.

Gina hung up the telephone and looked up and down the hallway. The principal, Mrs. Johnson, had offered to let her use her office phone to call Scott, but Gina didn’t want their conversation overheard. She hated all this secrecy about their separation, which was why she’d insisted it had to stop. But she hadn’t told anyone at the school yet.

Here, like everywhere else, their charade was still intact.

She wondered if Scott’s presence at his parents’ house in the middle of the day meant he’d finally worked up the nerve to tell his mother that Gina wouldn’t be playing along anymore. Walking back into the school office reminded her of why they had kept up this phony front. This was certainly not the moment to “come clean.” People just treated you different if you were separated or divorced. You could almost feel them pull away, like you had some contagious disease.

Respect went out the window.

No one in her family or in Scott’s had ever been divorced. No one in their neighborhood was divorced. No one in any of her social circles was divorced. She was certain plenty of them were unhappily married, but at least they were still together. She walked
back through a cloud of cigarette smoke in the reception area and knocked on the principal’s open door.

Mrs. Johnson looked up from her desk. “What did your husband say?”

“He’s very upset. He’s on his way here now.”

“You can’t think of anywhere else the boys may have gone?”

Gina took a seat in front of the desk where she’d sat before and reached for a tissue. “No. They know better than to leave or go anywhere without getting permission.”

“While you were gone, I double-checked. We definitely called you at work this morning when it became obvious the boys were absent, to make sure you were aware. First they called your house, and when no one answered there, they called the work number you gave us. I spoke with a woman who made the calls. She said she’d given the message to the receptionist, because you weren’t at your desk.”

“Oh, I believe you. It’s not the first time I didn’t get one of my messages.” Gina wished her boss would fire that girl at the front desk. All she did was flirt with the salesmen. It was obvious she wasn’t there to work but to fish for a husband. “Can I borrow a few sheets of paper and a pen?”

“Certainly.”

“My husband suggested I make a list of all of the boys’ friends. And he wanted me to ask their teachers if they’ve made any friends here at school, boys we might not know about. Once I write them out, I may need your help again. We thought you could help us get their phone numbers.”

“That’s a good idea,” Mrs. Johnson said, handing her the paper and pen. “You start working on that and I’ll call their teachers on the intercom, make sure I get them before they head home.”

For the next several minutes, they busied themselves with their
separate tasks. Gina was glad for the distraction. She reminded herself of something Scott had said, that something simple must’ve happened here, something they just weren’t thinking about. Not something sinister. The boys were all right. They had to be.

“Mrs. Harrison, excuse me.” It was Mrs. Johnson.

Gina looked up.

“Timmy’s teacher will be here in just a minute. But Colt’s teacher wondered if you might be able to come to her classroom. She had to keep a boy after class for chewing gum. He’s washing all the blackboards, and he’s rather mischievous. She doesn’t want to leave him alone.”

“I understand. I’ll go right there after I meet with Timmy’s teacher.”

“She did have an interesting idea, something I hadn’t considered.”

“What’s that?”

“Has Colt ever played hooky before?”

“What?”

“You know, skipped school to do something fun? His teacher said two other boys had done that today. It’s all this military activity going on, it’s gotten the boys all excited.”

“You mean the caravans of Army trucks going down US-1?” Gina had seen them all weekend, all heading south. Dozens of them, filled with soldiers and equipment. She had no idea what was going on, but the boys got very animated every time the trucks drove by, pointing at them and yelling. Maybe that was where the boys were. She hoped it was something like that. She’d have to ground them for a year, but she didn’t care. Anything to find them and get them back.

“That’s what I’m talking about,” Mrs. Johnson said. “You know how boys are about the military. It’s all those John Wayne movies.”

“And there’s some new show on TV,” Gina said, “just started a few weeks ago, called
Combat
. Timmy’s been begging me to let him stay up and watch it with Colt.”

“Maybe the temptation proved to be too much for Colt and Timmy,” Mrs. Johnson said, “seeing all these military vehicles riding through their town.”

Gina wanted to believe what she was hearing, but it was so out of character for the boys to do something like this. She could almost imagine Colt being talked into it, egged on by his friends. But she could never see him taking his little brother Timmy along on such a scheme. “But aren’t all the military vehicles across the river, on US-1?” she asked.

“Mostly, yes.”

“Have you seen any of them over here on the beachside, driving down A1A?”

“I haven’t,” Mrs. Johnson said. “Think it’s too far for the boys to walk?”

“Kind of,” Gina said. “Maybe not for Colt, but definitely for Timmy.”

“I’m pretty sure the two boys who played hooky this morning rode their bikes to school.”

Just then the office door opened, and Miss Jenkins walked in. She was young and attractive, her hair in a bouffant just like Jackie Kennedy’s. Gina thought she must be in her early twenties. Looking at Gina, Miss Jenkins said, “I’m so sorry, Mrs. Harrison. I’ve been worried sick ever since I heard. Any news?”

“Nothing yet. But I’m wondering if you can help me.”

“Anything.”

“Can you think of any friends Timmy has made in class so far this year? Maybe some boys we don’t know? The only friends we know all live in our neighborhood.”

“As you know, Timmy’s awfully shy. Occasionally I do see him playing at recess with the boy who sits in front of him. His name is Roy. But I don’t believe Timmy could be with Roy. I always stand out by the school busses and watch my kids get on. I saw Roy get on his bus this afternoon, by himself.”

“There’s no one else that Timmy talks to or plays with?”

“There might be a few others,” Miss Jenkins said. “But none that I would call a good friend.”

Disappointing news, though Gina didn’t put much stock in this solution. There was still a sliver of hope in talking with Colt’s teacher, but she had doubts about that too. She just couldn’t see Colt bringing his brother along on such an adventure. What was she saying? She couldn’t see him doing anything other than waiting there by the flagpole with Timmy like he always did.

Whatever had happened was totally out of character and totally unexpected . . . for both of them.