Chapter 35
Jack

Bath Stuff and Such is in the opposite direction from the zoo, but getting to the zoo on foot would be impossible, and I’m all out of bus money. Once I’ve got Jason’s bike and I’m almost back to where I began, sirens sound in the distance. My legs pedal harder. Not yet, Uncle Dave. I have to get to George first.

As soon as they find me, I’m in huge trouble. No zoo for me ever again, even if my best friend needs me.

And yes, I know. After all I’ve done, I deserve it. But he deserves better.

I can’t pedal fast enough yet somehow, I’m pedaling too fast. When a pigeon crosses in front of me, the next thing I know, I’m tumbling sideways onto the grass. I rub my arms and my freshly grass-stained elbows.

A car pulls up to the side of the road and comes to a stop as I push myself up. I get ready to run, but I’m stopped by a “Jack?”

My heart freezes. I whip around and cannot believe who I see. “Dad?” He’s scruffier than the last time I saw him. I race toward him, the person I’ve been looking for this whole time. He catches me in a hug that would look great in a movie. I press my face into his chest to hide the fact that I’m sobbing. I can’t stop the tears. “Where did you—?” I sniff. “How did you—?”

Dad’s sniffling and snorting, too, and asking the same kind of questions: “How could you—? Why did you—?” I feel tiny tears plonking down on my neck, but I don’t brush them off.

“Jack,” he says finally, “I’ve got to call Rachel and Dave. Wait here?” I hesitate before letting go. I’ve seen this trick before. I watch very carefully to make sure he doesn’t slip away as he gets into the car and pulls out his phone. He punches the numbers, and I read his lips: “I found him.” So, his phone does work.

When I’m positive he won’t sneak away, I turn to study the scene. I want to remember this forever as the time and place I found my dad. I notice the grass, blowing in the summer breeze. The pigeon I nearly smooshed waddles around farther down the sidewalk, waiting to trip the next innocent kid who rushes by. I look at the building closest to me, and I feel the color drain from my face: Daddy-O’s Beef Burger Barbeque. Exactly where George said I’d find my dad. He was right.

Somewhere in the distance, a church bell bongs once. It’s one o’clock. Exactly when George said Dad would be here.

My eyes refill with water as I think of my best friend, the one I just crushed if not destroyed. The best friend who was right the whole time. The most real best friend I’ve ever had.

I can’t let that awful conversation be our last. Even if I need to let him go, I have to say goodbye the right way. I have to let him know how much he means to me, how much he helped me. I have to tell him how much the world needs a friend like the Great Georgini.

Dad’s still on the phone with Aunt Rachel, or is he calling someone else now? Either way, he doesn’t seem to be looking at me. I walk over to Jason’s bike, pick it up, and hop on. Sorry, Dad.

“Hey! Where do you think you’re going?” Dad’s voice calls out, as the car door slams shut. I hear his feet on the pavement as he runs up behind me. A moment later he’s hoisting me off the bike. He sets me down, reaches under my chin, and unsnaps the helmet. With the accompanying click, I realize I’m running out of options. “Get in the car,” he says, turning me around to face the passenger door.

I don’t move. All I can picture is George: lost, alone, and thinking he doesn’t matter. Maybe even disappearing or worse. I can’t just abandon him without making sure he’s going to be okay. I look at Dad. I’m not like him.

“I can’t,” I say, crossing my arms.

Dad has picked up the bike and is carrying it toward the back of his car. He scoots around me, clicking the trunk open with his keychain. “What do you mean you can’t?” he asks.

“I’m not going home. I have to help someone.”

As he closes Jason’s bike into the trunk, he looks up. “Oh yeah?” he asks. “And who’s that?”

“George.”

Dad smiles as he approaches me. “Jack,” he begins, kneeling in front of me. “Let’s go home.” He puts his hand on my shoulder.

“If we go home, you’ll stay there?” I ask hopefully.

His smile droops into a frown. He doesn’t answer, but the expression says it all.

“I’m going to the zoo,” I tell him, pushing his hand off my shoulder. “Now are you going to take me, or do I have to walk?”

Dad shrugs. “Jack,” he begs. “You know he’s not re—”

“Please, Dad,” I say desperately. “I left Aunt Rachel’s to find you, and now I’ve lost George because of it. He told me he’d take me to you because you couldn’t even stop in to say hello, so I followed him all over town, and now you’re here. Exactly where he said you’d be.”

Dad doesn’t answer.

I continue, “It’s because of George, and now I’ve got to thank him because here you are and here I am, and that’s all I ever wanted to begin with.” I pull out the heart-wrenching begging walrus eyes that I’ve learned from George. “Please. Don’t you believe me?”

Dad looks away. “If I take you to the zoo, you’ll let me take you home after?”

I nod, and he sighs.

“All right,” he finally agrees. “Get in the car.”

I race to the car, throwing the door open and leaping inside. Dad is slower. Hurry up, I command him with my mind. The trick doesn’t work, but I’m not the magician in the family.

I snap my seatbelt across my chest, and it’s a good thing I do. I’m practically jumping off the seat with excitement. Dad and I, together at last, and on our way to George. The car grumbles to a start when Dad turns the key. “You’re next, Mom,” I whisper. “You’re next.”