24
He ran into the darkness.
Mountains and woods swallowed him with cavernous greed. I was too slow to catch him, and I felt helplessly blind to see him in the shadows.
I heard my motorcycle rev and grow closer. Reba commandeered my nimble Sportster instead of her bulky Goldwing. I shouted and pointed down the road, back toward The Dragon.
“He went that way!”
Reba turned on a dime and accelerated toward the darkness.
“What’s going on?” Lily and Opal ran out of their rooms. Other bikers stood in the parking lot staring at me.
“Timmy,” I said. “He took off.”
A group of college-aged kids loitered on the porch with their sports bikes, drinking alcohol and laughing it up. “Oh, let him go. If you love something, set it free. If it comes back to you it’s yours.” They cackled with laughter.
“They’re drunk. They don’t know what they’re doing.” Why did I always take up for people? Why did I make excuses for their bad behavior? And why did I care? Timmy was gone.
“Let’s pray.” Opal grabbed our hands. “It’s all we can do right now.”
I was in no mood to pray. “You pray.” Was that my voice so full of venom? “I’m calling 9-1-1.”
Lily and Opal prayed, and I paced in front of the Switchback Inn until the police arrived. After fifteen minutes, there was still no sign of Timmy or Reba. I stood in front of our room door and stared into the blackness. Tears streamed down my face. The fear suffocated me, making breathing impossible. I’d never felt anything like this fear before. Maybe praying would help. Just a little. “These mountains are huge, Lord. He’s like a little gnat out there in the dark. Please, please, God, please, bring him back. I promise I’ll be a better pastor’s wife. I’ll be a better mom. Just please bring my baby back.” I slid down the wall of the porch and collapsed.
Opal sat beside me. “He’s not alone, Kirstie.” She patted my shoulder. “God is with him.”
“I hope so.” Why was my faith so small? Please God, please be with him.
“Should we call Pastor?” Lily asked. I shook my head. I couldn’t bear to tell Aaron I’d lost our son. Timmy’s disappearance was my fault. If I hadn’t been so stubborn and wanted a motorcycle. Bernice was right. This was foolish.
Fifteen minutes turned to thirty, and thirty turned to an hour, an hour turned to two hours. The police set up a base of operations at the motel, and volunteer searchers filled the parking lot, including Hala and her family and friends. Even a Native American on crutches, a disabled veteran, volunteered to drive up and down the mountain looking for Timmy.
I remained on the porch. Gluttonous mosquitoes chomped on my sunburned skin and I became pocked with bites. The bites didn’t matter. I needed to be right here, outside this room, when Timmy came back. He had to know where to find me.
“I’m going to lose my mind. I can’t just sit here and do nothing.” I rested my head in my hands and grabbed at my hair.
“It’s going to be OK,” Lily said. “Don’t worry.”
“Don’t worry? How can you say that? Timmy’s out there with the bears and the wild boars and turkeys and whatever other wild things are up in those mountains. That big hairy monkey thing is up there, Lily! How can I not worry? And don’t give me some pat, panned Christian answer, either, because I’m sick of hearing it. I’m only human. I have feelings, too. And if God doesn’t like me having them, He shouldn’t have given them to me!” I bawled like one of my grandpa’s baby calves.
The searchers looked at me and then carried on with their assignments.
I covered my face and sobbed.
Lily and Opal stood there, looking out into the darkness. They didn’t speak anymore, stunned, I’m sure, at my lack of faith.
I wasn’t being the spiritual pastor’s wife. They’d never seen this side of me. Well, the truth was clear now, wasn’t it? I wasn’t some super-spiritual giant. I was just me. Kirstie. I possessed no extra super powers.
As I calmed down to a soft sob, I heard the distinct rumble of Harley pipes. I’d heard bikes going by for hours, but I recognized the sound of my own. Following close behind their rumbles I heard the honks and sounds of a large truck. Atticus’s tow truck. Why did he keep honking like that?
They pulled into the parking lot under the lights, and the answer was clear.
Timmy sat in the cab of Atticus’s truck and pulled on the horn with unrestrained joy.
The parking lot search team broke into applause.
It struck me they were almost as happy as I was, sharing high-fives, shaking hands and slapping one another on the back.
Officers got on their radios and called in the searchers.
“Timmy!” I jumped up and ran toward the truck. My legs couldn’t carry me fast enough.
“Oh, thank You, God! Thank You, Jesus!” I ran to the truck and climbed the ladder to the cab door in one leap. The window was down, and Timmy leaned out of it.
“Truck, Mom! Truck! Honk truck, Mom! Look, Mom!” Honk, honk.
Atticus jumped out of the driver’s side of the truck, walked around to me, and wrapped a giant arm around my shoulder.
“I saw this feller on the road and asked him if he needed a ride. He told me no, but I gave him one anyway.” Atticus laughed a big deep belly laugh.
Timmy sat in the driver’s seat, played with the steering wheel, and punched all the buttons.
“I can’t thank you enough, Atticus.” I leaned into his strong shoulder. It felt safe there.
“Yes, thank you.” Opal walked in front of us, and Atticus let go of me to shake the hand Opal held out. “We were just so worried. So worried.” Opal let go of Atticus’s hand, wiped tears from her face, jumped up, and threw her arms around the giant hero’s neck. Hanging there she kissed him on the cheek.
Reba leaned in to Lily’s ear. “Opal? Hugged someone? A man? She kissed a man?”
Atticus gave a laugh that reached clear to my bones, making them smile. He lifted Opal into the air and swung her around. “Well, boy howdy, if you want, I’ll set him loose and go pick him up again if rescuing him gets this kind of response.” He chuckled again, exactly like Santa Claus.
Lily grabbed Atticus next and gave him a big bear hug. “Where was he?”
“It was strange. I thought I saw a flashlight off to the side of the road. Something told me to stop and take a look. I tried going on, but that voice told me again to stop. I looked around in my cab to see who said it. And then, my truck started backfiring. It’s never had one mechanical problem like that before. So, I pulled over, and went toward that flashlight. I found him walking along the edge of the creek, singing like a little bird, not a care in the world. Strange, though. He didn’t have a flashlight.”
Goose bumps crawled up the back of my head. I knew, without a doubt, God had answered our prayers. He somehow led Atticus right to Timmy. He’d kept Timmy safe. Even when I lacked faith, God was faithful.
I felt weak, and my view of the truck tilted a little. My legs buckled, and I fell against Atticus’s big belly.
“Whoa there, Nelly. Let’s get you inside.” He grabbed me around the waist and led me toward the room. In my weakness, my warped mind took note of the fact that he didn’t pick me up and carry me like he did Opal.
Lily and Reba bribed Timmy with an episode of Cops to get him out of the truck. By the time we got to the porch in front of our room, my legs were back. I stood on my own.
“Atticus, I don’t know how to thank you. I really don’t. I…”
“So, did the retard finally come home?” one of the young bikers, drunker than before, hollered at us, and the girls and young men standing around drinking with them found his rudeness hysterical.
“What did you say?” Atticus bellowed. Other bikers standing around began a slow descent upon the mouthy young man.
“I said…” The cheeky young buck rocked his head side to side and sauntered toward Atticus like a peacock. “Did you find the retard?”
My blood turned to ice. I’d never heard anyone call my son such a despicable name.
Atticus and other bikers closer to our age slowly crowded around the group of youngsters slinging back cold ones and laughing.
“I’m not sure I heard you right.” Atticus wasn’t backing down.
“Get lost, old man.” The boy laughed.
“I thought I heard you call my friend a disparaging name.” Atticus reached into his boot, pulled out an expandable, and began hitting his mighty hand with it.
“No, Atticus.” I pulled on his elbow but the limb was as immovable as a concrete post. “Don’t do something stupid. The police are still around. It’s not worth it,” I pleaded.
Opal and Lily steered Timmy toward our room, while Reba and I, on each side of Atticus, tried to reason with him.
“Atticus, don’t be stupid, man.” Reba stood in front of him.
His eyes glistened with fire.
“These young squatters come in here every week and throw their weight around thinking they’re something special because they ride those sports rockets. No one calls my friends names.” He walked faster toward the boy, and his friends leapt to his defense.
Before we knew it, Reba and I were caught in the middle of a biker melee. Fists and hands flew, and Reba and I were crushed in the middle, ducking and weaving for our lives. I got two punches to my right eye before I squatted on the ground and covered my head with my hands.
It seemed like an eternity passed before blue lights, and the piercing sound of sirens cut through the air. A cop pulled the guys off of the pile and me out of the middle of the riot. He pushed me back on the ground and placed me in handcuffs.
If only someone was filming it.
Timmy would love to see it on Cops.