by John Searles
But mostly I’ve learned to push it aside. Move on.
During the time that I stay here, I tell my father about the good things I know now. I share stories about his daughter-in-law and grandchild, the loves of my life. I show him postcards that Marnie has sent me from the senior group tours she takes around the country. The most recent one from Vegas, her swirly writing on the back says, “Dominick, I haven’t won yet, but I’m still trying! Kisses—Marnie!” We talk of Sophie, who set out to meet the father she never knew when she was in art school on the East Coast years back. And I tell my father what little I know about Rand, which I gauge from notes scratched on cards sent at Christmastime, our relationship having petered out long ago.
Some days my father and I walk to the pond behind the motel, where he keeps goldfish stocked just like Old Man Fowler used to do. We watch them darting around, and I stare down at my reflection. With those bright fish shimmering beneath and the clear water rippling, I look almost young again in the marbled surface of that pond. Every year my father tells me how he cares for the fish, and I listen as if for the first time. Feed them regularly. Keep the water clean. Let enough algae grow so they’ll have something to nourish them when the cold weather hits. I listen, too, as he talks about the early days with my mother.
Riding around on his motorcycle together.
Picnicking in the park.
How happy she was when they had me.
Only when I’m up in that room alone do I think about the rest. The way the world pinballed me that year. And the way events aligned like stars, forever reshaping the pattern of my life. Back then, I looked to those events as signs or beacons the way my mother told me to do, and I wound up in a place I never expected to be. Why? I guess Jeanny had it right our first night together when she told me, “Some things are meant to be. Fate. And other stuff is just up to chance. Who knows the reasons behind it?”
It took me a long time to give up trying to answer that question, even longer to stitch my life back together. There is no fairy-tale ending for me. If you were to see me today—say you were a guest checking into this roadside motel in a small Massachusetts town—you might spot me behind the counter during one of my yearly visits. I’d be helping my father with the guest register or handing him the keys to your room, and you might think: “There’s a son giving his aging father a hand.” You would never guess the history between us or the buried past of this place. You might look at me and I’d smile as you picked up your suitcase and headed out the door. You might think I was a happy man, though somewhat weathered. And you’d see in my eyes no small part of a love I learned from a girl who stayed with me long after that troubled year, a father who I learned to forgive, a mother who forgave, and two children who were lost, then found. And a part of me who will always be a boy still missing the childhood he left too quickly behind.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
I moved to New York City about ten years ago with all of my belongings in the back of my father’s tractor trailer. My younger sister had died not long before, and sometime during the shock of it all, I had made up my mind to follow my dreams in her honor since she would never get the chance to fulfill her own. Little did I know how many setbacks there would be, how many tables I’d have to wait on, and that I’d end up becoming a books editor at a women’s magazine in the process. Thankfully, there were people along the way who acted as angels in my life and helped to make my dream come true.
Joanna Pulcini is the most faithful and hardworking agent any writer could ask for. Not only did Joanna believe in this book when the only thing she knew was the title, but she also brought me to St. Patrick’s Cathedral one spring afternoon and told me to look up.
I am deeply grateful to my wise and nurturing editor, Betty Kelly, who offered me unending enthusiasm during the years I spent writing this story. She also provided me with a home away from home to work on my fiction.
Patricia Burke from Paramount Pictures always seemed to call at the right moment. At first I thought she had tapped my phone, then I thought she was psychic, finally it dawned on me that she was simply an angel.
I was blessed to have Ann Hood as my writing teacher. She gave me abundant guidance early on and taught me so much about life.
The Vermont Studio Center granted me two generous fellowships where portions of this book were written on the second and third floors of Mason House.
Kate White, editor-in-chief of Cosmopolitan, is every writer’s dream boss. She gives me constant support and even lets me sneak away from the job to focus on my fiction.
I also had the honor of working with two former editor-in-chiefs of Cosmopolitan while writing this novel—the legendary Helen Gurley Brown and the one and only Bonnie Fuller both offered me invaluable encouragement.
Liz Smith took an interest in me and my work, and made people pay attention in a way they hadn’t before. I thank her for helping an unknown writer.
Wally Lamb was kind to me when I drove to Rhode Island from New York City to hear him read back in 1993. He offered to take a look at my writing and referred me to his agency. I am eternally grateful to Wally for his willingness to lend a hand to a newcomer.
My grandmother Dorothy believed I could be a writer ever since I showed her my first book entitled Stories and Stories and Stories when I was in the second grade. She never stopped believing even when other people did.
My readers: Alysa Wakin spent many late hours talking on the phone with me about this story and these characters even when she had to work the next morning. Alison Brower and Deirdre Heekin helped me immeasurably with their careful editing of this book. And Stacy Sheehan has always been an enthusiastic and gentle early reader.
I also need to give credit to Brother Dennis Sennett of the Archives and Records Department at St. Patrick’s Cathedral as well as the makers of the documentary Leona’s Sister Gerri. The family who spoke in that film about their experience, which was similar to my subject, added to my inspiration.
There are dozens of other people I would like to get mushy with but if I keep going these acknowledgments are going to turn into another book, so I’ll list their names here with a huge thank-you from the heart: John Sargent, Jan Bronson, Dawn Raffel, Abigail Greene, Jen Leonard, Shira Lyons, Jenny Benjamin, Susan Seagrest, all my Cosmo and Breakaway friends, Sam Hood Adrain, Carol Story, Amy Ziff, Vivian Shipley, Leo Connellan, Matthew Ballast, Patrick Miller, the Gallatin School at NYU, Amy Schiffman at the Gersh Agency, Renee Bombard at Presses de la Cite, Georg Reuchlin at Verlagsgruppe Bertelsmann, Linda Michaels and Teresa Cavanaugh at the Linda Michaels Agency. Also, Linda Chester, Laurie Fox, Julie Rubenstein, Gary Jaffe, and Kelly Smith at Linda Chester and Associates. And all the great people at William Morrow: Rome Quezada, Sharyn Rosenblum, Maureen Sugden, Rich Acquan, Michele Corallo, and April Benavides.
Finally, I’m more grateful than I can articulate to Thomas Caruso, who is a soothing, loyal, and loving presence in my life every single day.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
JOHN SEARLES is the deputy editor of Cosmopolitan, where he oversees all book coverage for the magazine. His essays, articles, and reviews have appeared in the New York Times, the Washington Post, and other national newspapers and magazines. He lives in New York City.
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PRAISE FOR
Boy Still Missing
“I meant to get so much done on the day I picked up John Searles’s Boy Still Missing. Instead, my ‘things to do’ list blew away, the clock face blurred, and I read—hungrily, compulsively, worried sick for a troubled young character about whom I cared deeply.”
—Wally Lamb, author of I Know This Much Is True and She’s Come Undone
“A lively thriller with a big heart.”
—Esquire
“Captivating. . . . A vivid blue-collar coming-of-age story. . . . Like Russell Banks, Searles combines a rapid and intricate plot with major social concerns.”
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br /> —Publishers Weekly
“A taut, well-nuanced portrait of a troubled kid caught in a whirlwind of circumstance. . . . Searles builds suspense and excitement with surprising turns of plot.”
—Booklist
“An involving, sometimes haunting, and completely satisfying novel.”
—Baltimore Sun
“Boy Still Missing is a moving, intelligent, and gripping debut. I cared profoundly about John Searles’s characters, despite their very human mistakes, and began to miss them soon after I had reached the final page of this fine book.”
—Chris Bohjalian, author of Midwives and Trans-sister Radio
“Boy Still Missing takes us to a small, hardscrabble town like the one where Searles grew up, and by bringing to life the primal emotions of a character shattered by a needless death, it conveys a message of hope: People can find peace by standing up for what they deeply believe in.”
—New York Daily News
“The dust jacket says thriller, and, certainly, there are parts that make the heart beat faster. But what thriller is so tender and bittersweet as to prompt tears as well? Searles writes even more beautifully than he plots. . . . Save [Boy Still Missing] for a cloudy or a rainy day when you can curl up alone to laugh and cry in your favorite chair. The payoff is worth it.”
—Pittsburgh Post-Gazette
“Boy Still Missing is a powerful and poignant tale of adolescent angst that places Searles alongside Ethan Canin and Michael Chabon among the top young novelists of our time.”
—Providence Journal
“Compulsively readable. . . . Searles renders the characters and the rural New England setting with accuracy and affection. These are clearly people and places he knows well. His ability to make their plights and their choices both believable and heartbreaking is a testament to this first-time author’s extraordinary skills. . . . An unqualified success. The reader will leave Boy Still Missing disturbed by, and thoughtful about, the turbulent times in Dominick Pindle’s life and in the life of our nation.”
—BookPage
“Totally gripping.”
—Jane
“A sensual debut novel. . . . Builds up roller-coaster speed, careening to a dramatic, poignant finale.”
—Glamour
“Hypnotic.”
—Entertainment Weekly
“A gritty, sometimes heartbreaking coming-of-age novel. . . . Proof that a child of tragic parents can indeed break the cycle of misfortune.”
—Redbook
“Boy Still Missing is a compulsively readable novel that slyly opens the door on the consequences of poor judgment. Combining pathos, tragedy, and love, Searles suggests that fate can indeed herald peace of mind, despite our persistent efforts to find it on our own. Boy Still Missing announces the arrival of a major new voice on the stage of American literature and introduces an unforgettable new hero in Dominick, the troubled teen who may just be destined to stand alongside such legendary forebearers as Holden Caulfield and Huckleberry Finn.”
—Barnes&Noble.com
“[A] vivid first novel. . . . You’ll root for Dominick as he weathers tough times and finds solace in love.”
—Seventeen
“This is a wonderful debut. The voice is fresh and honest, the mix of tragedy and hope a bit reminiscent of John Irving’s The World According to Garp. . . . Dominick Pindle is a believable, complex, and sympathetic character, and Boy Still Missing is a coming-of-age story that cannot miss at touching the reader deeply.”
—Deadly Pleasures magazine
“Totally captivating.”
—YM
“Engrossing and deeply felt. . . . [The novel] has the heart of an insider finding his way in, for Searles is coming in to the world as surely as his hero Dominick.”
—Seattle Weekly
“Written with the bristling energy of a detective thriller and the poetic insight of a memoir.”
—Norwich Bulletin
“A stunning debut novel. . . . Beautifully written, Boy Still Missing is replete with striking descriptions, analogies, and metaphors. The dialogue is superb. The best news is that Boy Still Missing is a page-turning, captivating story.”
—The Tennessean
“Boy Still Missing manages the mean feat of combining the page-turning pull of a thriller with the beautifully drawn characters and situations one expects from a more literary work.”
—Connecticut Post
“John Searles’s debut novel will keep readers riveted as it masterfully tells the story of Dominick Pindle’s unusual coming-of-age. . . . Searles does a fine job of depicting the consequences of human frailty, as well as the unpredictable strength of the human heart.”
—Atlanta Journal-Constitution
“To say Boy Still Missing is a good book doesn’t do it justice. The story is fascinating, riveting, and full of twists and turns. This is a full-speed page-turner.”
—Massachusetts Daily News
“Before you start reading John Searles’s Boy Still Missing, bid your family and friends au revoir. John Searles is such a masterful storyteller and his hero Dominick is so cocky and so tender there will be inevitable comparisons to J. D. Salinger. Boy Still Missing is essentially a small-town saga but with big American themes all pouring from the author’s great compassionate heart.”
—Frank McCourt, author of Angela’s Ashes and ’Tis
ALSO BY JOHN SEARLES
Strange but True
COPYRIGHT
This book is a work of fiction. The characters, incidents, and dialogue are drawn from the author’s imagination and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
BOY STILL MISSING. Copyright © 2001 by John Searles. All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the nonexclusive, nontransferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse-engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins e-books.
EPub Edition © JANUARY 2008 ISBN: 9780061856952
Version 08022013
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