Once the zookeeper has checked me for injuries, I’m led into a long, dark hallway. The cage door to the exhibit clanks closed behind us. In front of us, I find more zookeepers and security guards, plus Dad and Uncle Dave and Aunt Rachel and Jason and Morgan. There’s crying and hugging, and it’s all just a big emotional mess. Nobody gives me a hard time for risking my life and worrying them to death. They all just seem relieved that I’m okay. I apologize anyway.
Dad leans in and gives me a searching look. “Did you at least, uh, get to say what you needed to say? To George?”
I nod. “He’s gonna be okay.”
“Jack . . .” The voice comes from off to one side, almost a whisper, but its familiarity cuts through all the rest of the noise.
“Mom?”
She’s hovering a few feet away, looking like she hasn’t slept in days. I take a soaking, shaky step toward her. Then another. My stride gets faster until I find myself wrapped in her arms.
“I’m sorry,” I say. “I’m drenched.”
Through a sob, she points to the giant wet spot my hug has left behind on her shirt. “Me too.” We laugh.
“I’m sorry,” she whispers as her knees buckle, and she slides onto the ground. I slip down with her and nestle into her arms. She strokes my head. “I’m so sorry. My sweetie. My baby. I’m so sorry.” Her breaths become more strained through her tears. She’s almost gasping, and still she won’t stop apologizing.
I raise my hand and wave Aunt Rachel over. She quickly approaches, followed by Dave and, a little farther behind, Dad. “She needs some air,” Rachel says. I lift my head from Mom’s lap and step back as my aunt gets closer.
“No, no. Jacky! Jack. No!” Mom cries, grasping at the air to reach me.
“I’m right here, Mom.” I reach my hand out, allowing the tips of our fingers to touch.
“It’s okay, Ronnie. Jack’s okay,” Rachel promises. “And you will be too. I called your doctor. She can fit you in this afternoon.” She drapes an arm across my shoulder. “Now let’s go home.”
We walk to Uncle Dave’s minivan together in silence. Mom keeps her eyes down and seems too exhausted to talk more. Aunt Rachel drapes a supportive arm around Mom’s waist, keeping her steady.
“So,” Dad says after he’s loaded Jason’s bike into the minivan’s trunk.
I look at him. At the others. “Now what?”
Aunt Rachel shoots Uncle Dave a message using their secret eye language, as Jason and Morgan climb into the back of the van.
Aunt Rachel breaks the silence: “Jack, your mother’s going to need some time.” She seems to be speaking both for and with my mom.
“One week?” I ask, bracing myself for this familiar line.
“What? No!” Aunt Rachel assures me. “She’s not leaving again.”
Mom, still silent, draws a little cross on her heart.
“Time to heal. Time to adjust her medication. Time for therapy,” Rachel continues. “And we want her—both of you—to stay with us while she gets better.”
Dad’s hand settles onto my shoulder as he asks, “Is that what you want, Jack? Because I could also . . .” He looks up at Aunt Rachel and Uncle Dave. He almost looks at Mom, but his eyes turn back to me before they reach hers.
Does he really want me now?
I wrap my arms around Dad, pulling him into a hug. I’ve been looking for him all this time, and I’ve finally found him. And sure, he messed up, big time, but he took me to the zoo. He brought me to George. Which means there’s hope. Which means he believes in me.
Uncle Dave clears his throat. I release Dad and look from Mom to Aunt Rachel to Uncle Dave to Dad, but none of them tell me what to do. I’m not usually the decider. Finally, I take Dad’s hand. “You’ll come visit?” I ask him quietly.
Dad smiles and nods, before pulling me into another hug.
“Dad,” I whisper into his ear, “don’t disappear. Not again.”
“I won’t.”
From inside the car, Morgan taps on the window and tells me to hurry up, but the rest of us ignore her. I just got Dad back and now I’m leaving him, but somehow it feels different this time. “Promise you’ll come see me soon?”
“I promise.” He straightens up and slides open the minivan’s side door for me. “Promise you won’t do any more high-dives into a tank full of walruses?”
I climb in. “Sorry, Dad. I can’t promise that,” I tease.
With a chuckle, he steps back. “Take care, buddy. Love you.” As I buckle up, Mom climbs in next to me, and I think I catch a nod between Mom and Dad.
I look to Jason and Morgan in the back row. I mimic texting. “I’m alive,” I say to Jason with an apologetic shrug that I stuff with gratitude.
He playfully whacks my arm. “Yeah, barely. Jeez, Jack.” He’s grinning, relieved and happy to see me.
From the moment that Uncle Dave starts the car until we’re exiting the parking lot, I wave to my dad. He waves back, not moving a step.
Mom clutches my arm the whole way home, like she’s afraid to let go. Afraid to lose me. She’s still shaking.
Morgan finally breaks the silence. “Where’s my bike?”
Whoops. I shrink into the seat. “Outside the Bath Stuff and Such, I guess,” I say.
“Daaaaaaad,” Morgan whines.
Uncle Dave looks at us in the rearview mirror. “It’s fine,” he says to Morgan. “We’ll get it.” The car turns around and heads toward Morgan’s bike.
“Why’d you take it, anyway?” she asks.
“I didn’t,” I tell her.
“What do you mean you didn’t?” she snaps. “It’s missing. You know where it is.”
Jason rolls his eyes. “Well, he couldn’t ride two bikes, could he, dodo?” he says to his younger sister.
“Well then whoooo took it?” Morgan demands.
Coolly, I say, “George took it.”
“GEORGE!” Morgan shouts.
I know she’s thinking of her friend, not mine, but I just shrug. In seconds, Morgan has her phone out and is texting her friend George about stealing her bike. As she types she whispers, “What the heck, man?” I’ll tell the truth later, if it comes up.
Smiling, I close my eyes.