by Matt Shaw
My mobile phone started vibrating in my inside jacket pocket. I pulled it out and saw ‘unknown number’ displayed on the screen. I rejected the call. It was most likely Kathy, no doubt concerned about what I was doing. I’d explain when I got home. Or rather, I’d have an excuse by the time I got home. As I slipped the phone down into the centre console of the car, I noticed the clock change digits. 14:45 already. Where did the last ten minutes go?
I pressed my foot down on the accelerator and increased speed only to then slow to a near stop when I caught up with the expected traffic. I knew I was going to hit it but - even so - there was a part of me which had hoped I wouldn’t have. Shit.
I glanced back to the clock and the last digit increased by one. 14:46. Fourteen minutes and they’re out. Fourteen minutes. I won’t make it. It’s pointless trying. I should just turn around and go home. Confront the wife. I’ve waited this long, what’s one more day?
Despite agreeing with my brain’s thought processes, I didn’t attempt to do a three point turn nor did I attempt to turn back. I sat there patiently waiting for the traffic to allow me the opportunity to continue along the same path; a small part of my brain - a foolish, stubborn piece - convinced I’d make it there still. Just because the gates opened at three, it didn’t mean it would necessarily be too late. He could be detained in there. He could be out there a little later than three on the dot.
Another twenty minutes, or so, of battling the school traffic and I pulled up outside the large set of school gates. Over six foot tall and spiked across the top of them, as was the fence surrounding the perimeter, I couldn’t help but wonder whether they were there to stop people from getting in or to keep the students from getting out. If it’s the latter, they fail considering the number of children milling around down the local park at lunch-time.
The park.
It’s only just dawned on me now that the chances of Travis returning back to his classes, on a beautiful day like this, are extremely low. Growing up, I know I would have most likely taken the afternoon off whether I was meant to or not.
Don’t do that. Don’t compare yourself to him. You are not the same. You are not a bad man.
Regardless of my sudden realisation, I started looking from student to student. There are not too many standing at the gates now, waiting for their parents to come and collect them. Just a handful, all smartly dressed in their uniforms. A contrast to how he looks usually with his top shirt button undone, tie loose and shirt untucked. I wonder how many times he is told to smarten himself up by the teachers only to ignore them. He needs to be taught some respect.
I shall teach him.
I’ll do more than that.
Another car pulled up outside of the gates and two of the students waiting jumped in. The car pulled away. Two more down and still no sign of Travis. The longer I sit here - not that it has been very long - the more I realise today is not the day to find him. I wondered whether I could go in and ask where he is? Maybe I could pretend to be one of his parents here to collect him?
“Hi, I’m here to pick my son up but he doesn’t seem to be here. I just wondered if you’d happened to know where he was?” I said out loud paying close attention to my tone. I didn’t sound convincing. It sounded all wrong. Scratch that idea. You don’t want to highlight to other people - not even your wife - that you’re looking for him and following him. You don’t want people knocking on your door when they eventually find him; when you’re finished with him.
I do not recognise any of the students standing outside of the gates as being people who usually hang around with him either. That’s also disheartening. Had I recognised one of them, I could have simply followed them in the hope they would lead me to him. Of course his friends aren’t there. They most likely took the afternoon off with him too. Unless I have it all wrong and they either left by a side gate, of which there are three, or they’re still in the building somewhere.
I opened my car door and set a foot on the concrete outside. Half in and half out of the car, the temptation was to venture into the building and have a look around. See if I could see him, or any of his friends. I can’t deny that the temptation was strong even though I knew it was a foolish thing to do. What if I did see him in there? He’d see me too. He might not have recognised me in the park earlier - and it was stupid calling out to him then - but he might now, if there weren’t many people around. Alarm bells might start ringing in his head, especially if he sees me somewhere I am not supposed to be. I can’t risk it.
I put my foot back in the car and slammed the door shut.
Just go home. Go home, with an excuse for your disappearance, and play happy families. Start again tomorrow but this time do not let him out of your sight for a minute. I was doing well this morning having spotted him at the bus stop first thing. I followed the bus all the way to school, I watched as he entered the building via this gate. I hung around until lunch, when he left with a couple of friends, I followed him to the park. Satisfied he’d be there for a while, I called home and invited the wife to the picnic. I should have just stayed with him. I shouldn’t have called out. Who knows, maybe I could have even snatched him there and then?
Don’t beat yourself up about it. It didn’t have to be today. I have waited this long, what’s one more day?
I started the engine up and pulled away from the side of the road. It was hard not to be a little disappointed with how the day ended. I thought today was going to be it; an end to the whole thing. And - on top of that - I knew I now had to sit in the long traffic queues to get home again.
Today was a wasted opportunity.
15:58
I walked through the front door still feeling angry at myself for not having done what I had set out to achieve today. I had been building up to this day for so long. Everything was ready. Had I not invited Kathy to the park - for the picnic - chances are my day would have ended differently. I closed the door behind me and turned towards the kitchen to fetch a drink. I jumped when I noticed Kathy sitting on the stairs waiting for me, still wearing the tee shirt I had left her in earlier.
“Where have you been?” she asked.
“I had to do something,” I told her.
“Do something? Do what?”
“It was a surprise,” I told her. Her birthday was in less than a month. The perfect excuse for any husband to act suspiciously. “I can’t say but it needed to be dealt with now.”
“What are you talking about?” she asked.
“For your birthday. Just leave it,” I told her firmly, “I don’t want to ruin the surprise.”
She didn’t say anything and neither did she move. She sat there, on the middle step of the stairs, with a suspicious look on her face which suggested she didn’t believe me.
“And what about the park today?” she continued.
I frowned, “What about it?”
“Why did you want to go today of all days?”
I couldn’t help but laugh. In her eyes the park was supposed to be a spontaneous show of affection on my part and yet here she was, questioning it with no good reason.
“You said I wasn’t spontaneous. That was me being spontaneous!”
“And what about work?” she asked.
I should have dropped her off at the house, after we had finished, and disappeared for a few more hours to keep up appearances. That was a mistake on my part. But then she knew I could also work from home too, thanks to the wonders of modern technology. We’d arrived home and I’d spent a good number of hours sitting in my office. How did she know I wasn’t working then?
“What about it?” I asked.
“You said you had the afternoon off.”
“And I did,” I lied, “and yet I still did more work in my office upstairs such is my dedication. What is all of this about?” I asked starting to get frustrated. Fine, my behaviour earlier was odd - running out like that - but did it really warrant all of these questions? I also noticed the lies were getting easier. A few months a
go my face used to go scarlet whenever I lied and I was unable to look people in the eye but now - they rolled off the tongue with alarming ease without so much of a flicker of emotion hinting that I wasn’t speaking the truth.
“Is that right?”
“Yes. What the hell is all of this about?” I asked trying to act all innocent.
She pointed to something behind me. I followed her pointing finger and turned on the spot. There was a small wooden table behind me, up against the corner of the hallway close to the front door. The house telephone was sitting on the table, next to the Yellow Pages telephone directory not that we ever used either one anymore. The only calls that came through tended to be from cold-callers trying to sell us dodgy insurance and, with regards to the telephone directory, if we needed a phone number we tended to use the Internet on our mobiles to get it for ourselves. The phone itself was sat in a black cradle which also acted as an answering machine for when we missed the calls. A green indictor light was flashing on and off showing we had a message waiting for us.
“You might want to listen to that,” she said. “You might think it’s important.”
Kathy stood up and walked back up the stairs. I watched her until I could see her no more. When she was out of sight, I turned back to the answering machine. I didn’t need to press it. What with her attitude towards me, and all of the questions, I knew who it was. Regardless, I walked over and pressed it the button. The message clicked through:
“Hi Will, this is Gary. We were just wondering what was happening? Your doctor’s note ran out a couple of days ago and we haven’t heard anything. Obviously if you need more time it isn’t a problem, we’re here for you. We just need to be kept in the loop. If you could give me a call, buddy, I’d be grateful. If not I’ll try you again tomorrow. I hope everything is okay. See ya, bye.” The phone clicked and the answering machine asked if I wanted to save the message or delete it.
Message deleted.
Shit. That was a pretty condemning call. Not only did it give away the fact I hadn’t been in today, it also revealed I hadn’t been in for a while. Kathy must have come downstairs to answer the ringing phone only for the machine to kick in. She would have heard everything.
I am getting better at lying, there is no denying that. But thinking quickly on my feet? That’s not my strong point - not for circumstances like this anyway. Damn, damn, damn. I can’t tell her. She won’t want me to do anything stupid and will try and talk me out of it but I need to do this. Might even lose her if I told her. Whatever. I can’t ignore this conversation, or even delay it. We need to talk.
I hurried up the stairs after Kathy. The bedroom door was shut. I walked over to it and knocked softly, “Honey?” I called through the wood. She didn’t answer me. Great. The silent treatment. It’s always harder to talk when they employ the silent treatment. “Open the door,” I told her. I waited for a response but none came. I couldn’t even hear her in there. Maybe she’d stormed straight through to the en-suite bathroom and locked herself in there? A second door to call through. “Kathy!” I called out, louder this time. “Open the door. Let me explain.”
“Why? So you can feed me mores lies?” she asked.
“You’re being unreasonable!”
I may have done wrong and my intentions may not be as clear as they should be but it was all for her benefit. Our benefit. Once it is done, she’ll thank me. Until it is done, though, I can’t talk to her about it. She’ll understand when it is all done and dusted. She will understand and she will thank me. Both her and Stephanie.
“I’m coming in,” I told her. I put my hand on the handle and went to twist it only to stop when she shouted for me to stay away. “Honey. I can explain…”
“I don’t want to hear it,” she said. I guess, given my recent behaviour, she had every right to feel this way but it didn’t make it okay. If she’d open the door I’d feed her a line about looking for a new job, maybe even having one but it doesn’t start yet so I thought I’d take a little time off to enjoy the peace and quiet before I am thrown in at the deep end. Although, I guess, if I did say that she would then ask the question of where I had been every day. I’m not sure how I could respond to that one…
I backed away from the door.
“I’ll be downstairs if you want to talk,” I told her. Once again I wait for a response from her that never came. I nodded and convinced myself we could fix this in the morning if she doesn’t come down and speak before then. Surely we’d speak before then. She couldn’t stay in there all evening and night without coming out - even if it’s only for a drink.
I walked down the stairs trying to fill in the blanks of a good enough lie to tell her. She’d asked more questions, when she does talk to me, so I need to be prepared or else it will only make it worse… What the Hell?
I was standing in the doorway to the lounge, at the bottom of the stairs. A spare bed had been set up on the sofa. I guess locking herself away in the bedroom hadn’t been a spur of the moment decision.
I was hit with immediate regret as I started reminding myself this particular mess had stemmed from the wasted journey to the school. Had I thought about it more, had I not just jumped in the car, all of this could have been avoided.
I walked over to the sofa and slumped down into the seat. I hesitated a moment, unsure of what to do, before reaching into my pocket and pulled out my mobile phone. There were no missed calls and no waiting text messages. Thinking of the latter, I opened up a new text message and entered Stephanie’s name before typing out a message; “Hope you’re okay. Love you. Miss you. See you tomorrow xxx”. The way her mum has gone off the deep end over that call, and running out on her earlier, it’s probably for the best she isn’t home tonight although I could sure do with a hug right about now.
A silver lining to the current situation means I can - at least - use her bed. If only for tonight.
I leaned back on the sofa, pushing the duvet up to the other end next to the pillow, and stared at the television even though it wasn’t turned on. In my mind I filled the blank screen with News Reports from weeks ago. It always happened like this if I saw a blank screen; flashbacks to the news on that damned day. It was the same with newspapers. I’d look at them and - instead of seeing what was on the front page for the day - I’d only see the layout from that day. A constant reminder and one that I hoped would stop after I did what I had to do.
There was a temptation to grab the car keys and hit the roads; patrol the areas I knew Travis liked to hang out. I didn’t want to sit in the house knowing she was up there fuming with me and - more to the point - I couldn’t think of a good enough excuse not to have been at work for Kathy, should she come down and start talking to me.
Fuck it. I doubt I will find but him it saves sitting here, in silence, staring at the blank television and remembering bits and pieces I’d sooner forget.
I jumped up from the sofa and grabbed the car keys from the hallway before disappearing out of the front door. I closed the door behind me, unsure as to whether I should have called up to Kathy or not. I decided against it. If she wants to talk, she has my number. With the key in the ignition and the engine purring softly, I pulled from the drive unsure of where I was heading.
20:01
I was sitting in McDonald’s carpark with a drink in my car’s cup-holder, a bag of fries sitting in my lap and a burger in my hand. I was half paying attention to what I was putting in my mouth and half watching a group of youths hanging around next to their cars, clearly proud. My car isn’t the biggest and certainly isn’t the fastest of automobiles and - even at my age - I find insurance to be pricey. God only knows how these kids are running their cars. I guess mummy and daddy pay.
I didn’t actually want a burger. I don’t like junk food. It is an unsatisfying meal. You eat it and you think you’re full and yet - twenty minutes later - you find you’re hungry once more. And nine times out of ten it gives me a stomach ache which cripples me. The only reason I am here is becau
se I thought he might be. Driving past, on many an evening, I noticed this seemed to be a local hang out for young lads and their girlfriends. Needless to say, he wasn’t here. Of course he wouldn’t be. He’s only sixteen. Most likely - if he survives until his seventeenth birthday - he’ll be here next year with his car, complete with L-Plates.
I took another bite of my hamburger. I’m not sure if it’s due to thoughts of Travis in the forefront of my mind but - somehow - the burger tastes worse now. I wound down the window and dropped the remainder onto the carpark’s concrete floor. With the windows down the sounds of the youths were clearer now and I could make out what they were talking about; mixed subjects but mainly focused on the rest of the cars in the carpark. They were passing judgement on each and every one they could see, including mine.
It wasn’t the first time people had mocked me for the car I drove, a KIA Picanto, and usually it didn’t bother me. But because it was a group of youths, because of what had happened with Travis, it annoyed me more than it should have done.
I fired up the engine and revved the engine. The group of youths turned towards me with a look of bemusement on their faces. I showed no emotion as I revved the engine again. A second later and the group started to laugh, some of them even pointing towards my car. I released the handbrake and revved the engine again.
“Come on! Show us what it has! What is that? A V8?” one called out.
I revved once more before pressing the clutch down and selected first gear. A few more revs of the engine as the youths continued laughing. One of them leaned into his car and turned the bass up, drowning out the pathetic engine hidden underneath my bonnet. I pressed the accelerator again, holding the revs, and released the clutch, launching the car forward with a sudden burst which startled the youths as I shot towards them.
