her head. “What’ll it be, kids?”
“A cheeseburger with onion rings,” I replied without glancing at the menu. “And a Coke. Please.”
“I’ll have the same,” he told her with a smile.
We sat in silence for a moment as we waited for our food. Chris tapped his fingers on the metal tabletop.
“So, what’s your story?” I blurted out. “Why don’t I recognize you from school?”
He laughed as he pulled a napkin from the dispenser and folded it in his hands.
“What’s my story, huh? That’s a pretty big question before we even get our drinks.”
“Oh, I’m sorry.” I grimaced. “I just wondered…”
“Don’t apologize. But there’s not a lot to tell. Or not a lot worth telling, I should say.”
“Good, it won’t take long,” I said with a small grin. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Brad’s poster hanging on the wall directly behind Chris’ head. I looked down at the table for a moment to avoid his ink jet stare.
“Well, first of all, you don’t know me from your school because I’m not from here. I just come into town now and then to help out my Grandma.”
“If you don’t live here, why did you want to come to that first search party for Brad?”
He shrugged. “Seemed like the right thing to do, I guess.”
“So, where are you from?” I asked.
“A small town.”
“In North Carolina?”
“Yeah. It’s just north of Charlotte.”
“What’s it called?”
“You have to admit,” he said with a grin. “For someone who didn’t even want me to know her name, you sure do want to know a lot about me.”
There I go again. What is this, twenty questions over burgers and onion rings? Come on Lillian, get it together. I wasn't ready to explain to him that my social skills were lacking.
“I’m from Gladeville. It’s about three hours from here, a one stop light kind of place. Even smaller than Lions Port if you can believe that.”
“Are you in school?”
“You could say that.”
“What does that mean?” I asked with a shrug.
“I’ve been homeschooling myself since fifth grade,” he said. “My dad’s a deadbeat, my mom turned me over to my chain smoking, out of work uncle when I was a kid… and let’s just say getting me to school in the morning isn’t a top priority.”
“Wow, I’m sorry.”
“Stop apologizing,” he told me. “I’ll be all right.”
I wasn't sure what else to say. It was suddenly apparent to me that maybe I wasn’t the only one on the planet who was hurting. I glanced again to the poster of Brad. Chris noticed my wandering gaze and turned his head to see what had caught my eye.
“Your boyfriend is missing,” he said as he looked back at me. “I can’t imagine what that feels like.”
I couldn’t explain what it felt like even if I had wanted to. It feels like an out-of-body experience. Or a cruel joke. Since Brad has been gone it feels like I am waiting in a long line that never moves.
“Where do you think he is?” Chris asked.
It was the simplest question, yet I was at a loss for words. “You know,” I said. “No one has ever asked me that before.”
Chris wrinkled his brow. “Asked where you think Brad is?”
“As if I wasn’t an important part of his life,” I told him with a nod. “No matter where he is now, it doesn’t change the six months we spent together…” My voice trailed off as I spoke the words I had been constantly repeating to myself. They didn't sound any better coming out of my mouth than they did in my head.
“Well, I’m asking you now. Where do you think he is?”
I took a deep breath in and tried to imagine Brad. My mind wandered back to the nightmares of him in the street, yelling at me to leave him alone, and then to the visions of his mangled body hanging from the hook of a crane. These thoughts were all wrong. Where do I want him to be? Locked in a tower like Cinderella or Sleeping Beauty or one of those princess types? No, that’s ridiculous. So where do I think he
“A cheeseburger with onion rings,” I replied without glancing at the menu. “And a Coke. Please.”
“I’ll have the same,” he told her with a smile.
We sat in silence for a moment as we waited for our food. Chris tapped his fingers on the metal tabletop.
“So, what’s your story?” I blurted out. “Why don’t I recognize you from school?”
He laughed as he pulled a napkin from the dispenser and folded it in his hands.
“What’s my story, huh? That’s a pretty big question before we even get our drinks.”
“Oh, I’m sorry.” I grimaced. “I just wondered…”
“Don’t apologize. But there’s not a lot to tell. Or not a lot worth telling, I should say.”
“Good, it won’t take long,” I said with a small grin. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Brad’s poster hanging on the wall directly behind Chris’ head. I looked down at the table for a moment to avoid his ink jet stare.
“Well, first of all, you don’t know me from your school because I’m not from here. I just come into town now and then to help out my Grandma.”
“If you don’t live here, why did you want to come to that first search party for Brad?”
He shrugged. “Seemed like the right thing to do, I guess.”
“So, where are you from?” I asked.
“A small town.”
“In North Carolina?”
“Yeah. It’s just north of Charlotte.”
“What’s it called?”
“You have to admit,” he said with a grin. “For someone who didn’t even want me to know her name, you sure do want to know a lot about me.”
There I go again. What is this, twenty questions over burgers and onion rings? Come on Lillian, get it together. I wasn't ready to explain to him that my social skills were lacking.
“I’m from Gladeville. It’s about three hours from here, a one stop light kind of place. Even smaller than Lions Port if you can believe that.”
“Are you in school?”
“You could say that.”
“What does that mean?” I asked with a shrug.
“I’ve been homeschooling myself since fifth grade,” he said. “My dad’s a deadbeat, my mom turned me over to my chain smoking, out of work uncle when I was a kid… and let’s just say getting me to school in the morning isn’t a top priority.”
“Wow, I’m sorry.”
“Stop apologizing,” he told me. “I’ll be all right.”
I wasn't sure what else to say. It was suddenly apparent to me that maybe I wasn’t the only one on the planet who was hurting. I glanced again to the poster of Brad. Chris noticed my wandering gaze and turned his head to see what had caught my eye.
“Your boyfriend is missing,” he said as he looked back at me. “I can’t imagine what that feels like.”
I couldn’t explain what it felt like even if I had wanted to. It feels like an out-of-body experience. Or a cruel joke. Since Brad has been gone it feels like I am waiting in a long line that never moves.
“Where do you think he is?” Chris asked.
It was the simplest question, yet I was at a loss for words. “You know,” I said. “No one has ever asked me that before.”
Chris wrinkled his brow. “Asked where you think Brad is?”
“As if I wasn’t an important part of his life,” I told him with a nod. “No matter where he is now, it doesn’t change the six months we spent together…” My voice trailed off as I spoke the words I had been constantly repeating to myself. They didn't sound any better coming out of my mouth than they did in my head.
“Well, I’m asking you now. Where do you think he is?”
I took a deep breath in and tried to imagine Brad. My mind wandered back to the nightmares of him in the street, yelling at me to leave him alone, and then to the visions of his mangled body hanging from the hook of a crane. These thoughts were all wrong. Where do I want him to be? Locked in a tower like Cinderella or Sleeping Beauty or one of those princess types? No, that’s ridiculous. So where do I think he
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