Part 20 (1/2)
”Rose, you're not drinking, are you?”
”I wouldn't...I wouldn't drink...and...drive.”
”You don't sound okay. Are you driving?”
”No...the car is off.”
”Start the car, Rose. Am I on speaker?”
I put the phone on speaker and lay it on the seat. ”Yes.” I do as he says and start the car, but all the crying has exhausted me and I feel like I'm going to fall asleep.
”Now head home.”
I step on the gas and go forward in search of a wide enough s.p.a.ce to turn around.
”Are you on your way home?” Ben asks, intruding the silence.
”I...I...no. There's nowhere to turn around.”
”Ro...Ca...Back.”
I can't hear him.
”Rose...find a...out?”
”You're breaking up.”
”Ro...”
Stepping on the brake, I pick up the phone from the seat. No service and a blinking ”Charge Battery” message. Instead of continuing forward, I try a k-turn right on the trail. As I put the truck in reverse, it dies. ”No no no no no.” I start it again, it goes. Thank G.o.d.
I press on the gas, it dies again.
Oh my G.o.d.
I try one more time, but I'm on a slight incline and the truck won't start. Frantically, I search the glove compartment for a flashlight.
Nothing.
”Daddy,” I call out in the dark. ”Come on.”
Under the seat, in the cus.h.i.+ons, under the dash. I search everywhere and find nothing to light my way back home. In the woods, it's pitch black. The light of the moon can't penetrate through the thick blanket of trees. I've traveled these trails so often in my past, but without a light, there's no way I'd make it home.
Alone without even a coat to keep me warm, I lie across the seat and decide to sleep until the sun comes up.
No sense in fighting the darkness.
22.
BEN.
I drum my fingers on the steering wheel all the way up to Wantage. Rose has me worried sick. She's in the woods with no phone. Common sense tells me she found a place to turn around and she's home safely in her house. My gut tells me she never got home. My overactive imagination tells me she's lying in a ditch somewhere dead.
Odds are, common sense has won, but what if?
That's why I am racing up Route 23's two-lane highway at double the speed limit. Kudos to my Honda for breaking a hundred miles per hour.
When I pull up, every light in the house is on, including the front porch light. My panic has me rapping on the door harder and faster than I should, especially since with my other hand, I'm ringing the doorbell.
”I'm coming, I'm coming.” The voice on the other side sounds just as panicked.
”Ben,” Rose's mother cries as she opens the door.
Even before I ask, I know the answer, but I ask anyway. ”Mrs. Duncan, I'm just making sure...is Rose here?”
”No. No.”
We're bombarded at the door with the rest of Rose's family...and, ”Holly?”
”Ben?”
”Do you know of any trails around here where Rose would go?” I ask quickly.
”Trail?” the man, who I gather is Rose's father, asks. ”Do you know where Rose is?”
”She called me from some trail. Her phone died and...and I have this feeling.”
”Come with me, son.” The man grabs a set of keys off a hook on the wall and leads me off the porch. ”I'm Bruce, Rose's dad.”
”Ben, sir. Rose's friend.”
We get into a huge F350, and Mr. Duncan peels out of the driveway.
”You sure she said trail?”
”Yes. And she didn't have room to turn around. Then her phone went dead.”
”Hopefully she's where I think she is. We didn't know where she went. She wasn't answering her phone. I mean...we weren't worried at first, but then my wife saw her purse was still in her room and I knew there was no gas in the old Chevy. I don't know why she took that clunker and not this truck, or her mother's car, but...” He glances at me. ”Sorry, I couldn't get a word in edgewise in the house with my wife yappin' it up. Sorry.”
”No need to apologize, sir.”
”Call me Bruce. Please.”
We turn up a dark road paved only with what seems to be huge rocks and small logs. Rose would have had to have taken a truck to pa.s.s through this. My car would never have made it.