The next instant, muscular arms lifted me into the air and the oddly familiar face was grinning up at me.
“My brother,” I said proudly to the gaping Perry. “This is my brother.”
Once Phillip had replaced me on the floor, I pushed my glasses up on the bridge of my nose and grinned back at him.
“Are my dad and Betty Jo here in Lawrenceton?” I asked, amazed that I hadn’t known of such a trip.
“Ah, no.” He might as well have had the word
My coworker reminded me he was present by making a little noise in his throat. “Phillip, this is Perry,” I said, sure I was making Perry’s day. The arrival of a long-unseen brother was great news for Lawrenceton’s gossip mill.
Perry shook Phillip’s hand solemnly, said he was glad to meet any brother of mine, and then found something to do on the other side of the library. Perry was not insensitive to atmosphere. After an awkward moment, I suggested to my brother that we go outside to the employees’ parking lot to have a little talk. It was cooler, and gusty; I was sure it was going to rain. Phillip was wearing a tank top under an unbuttoned flannel shirt, and the breeze was way too brisk for his ensemble. His flesh looked goosey.
“I’m truly happy to see you, but you better explain why you’re here,” I said, trying not to sound too stern.
“Things haven’t been going too good at home,” he admitted, shoving his hands down in his pockets. He’d hinted as much in his E-mails, so I shouldn’t have been surprised.
“Dad couldn’t keep his-” I stopped abruptly and substituted a milder phrase. “Dad was not faithful to Betty Jo?”
“Right,” my half brother mumbled.
“I guess some things don’t change.” I tried not to sound bitter. “Listen, Phillip, please tell me they know where you are.”
“Ah, not exactly.” He tried to smile at me, but it didn’t work.
“How’d you get here?”
“Well, a friend of mine’s big brother was driving to Dallas, so I told him if he’d take me along, I’d split the gas.”
“This brother didn’t know how old you are?”
“Uh, no.”
Sure he had. He had helped a fourteen-year-old runaway. Or was Phillip fifteen now? Yes, just barely.
“And after you got to Dallas?”
“I, uh, hitched a ride with a truck driver to Texarkana.”
“He was okay?” Phillip wasn’t meeting my eyes.
“He was okay. The next guy wasn’t.” Phillip was just shivering from cold, I hoped. After giving him a good look, I was sure.
I took a deep, deep breath, trying to keep it silent. “Do I need to take you to the doctor?” I asked very gently. “There’re lots of specialists in Atlanta; they don’t know you or me, and they’d never see us again.”
“No,” Phillip said, his face brick red. “I get what you’re saying, but it didn’t come to that. It was pretty intense, though.” He may have thought he was smiling, but it was a grimace, compounded of fear, embarrassment, and humiliation.
“Where’d you end up?”
“I just made it partway to Memphis with the bad guy. I got another ride into the city.”
“Okay.” I was biting the inside of my mouth to keep my face calm. “What then?”
“Uh, I went to the college campus-you know, the University of Memphis? And I found the Student Center, and I read the notices on the bulletin board.”
I wondered how he had learned to do that.
“And in those notices, there was one from two girls who needed a guy to ride with them to Birmingham. They were scared they’d have a flat tire or something, and I can at least change a flat tire. I think. Anyway, Britta never had one.”
Britta. Hmm. “So they took you as far as Birmingham.”
“Yeah.” If possible, Phillip’s face was an even deeper red. I was willing to bet those girls hadn’t known his true age, either, and I was thinking even more grimly that Phillip might need a blood test. “So from Birmingham, I just rode the bus.”
“I’m glad you had the money left for that.”
“Uh, Britta and Margery chipped in on it.”
“You had a lot of adventures,” I said, smiling so I wouldn’t scream. He was lucky to be alive.
“Yeah. I think, you know, I did okay.” He seemed to know that sounding any more boastful than that would get him a good slap on the wrist.
“And all this time your parents haven’t known where you were?”
He nodded.
I could not even imagine how they were feeling.
“How long has that been?” I asked in a voice I just barely managed to keep even.
“Uh, let’s see. Two and a half days to Dallas, a half day to get the ride with Mr. Hammond, then the ride to Texarkana, where I helped him unload the truck, and then the other guy, the one in the pickup, that lasted about two hours, and I hid in the woods…”
I could feel all the blood draining from my face, and I sat down on the hood of Perry’s car, which was the closest.
“Hey, Roe, don’t look so… It wasn’t as bad as you’re probably thinking. I’d just… I’d never imagined… He probably wouldn’t have actually, uh, forced me… I just freaked.”
“That’s okay. That’s what people do when they’re faced with a scary situation. Hiding was the best way to make sure you were safe,” I said reasonably, thinking I would even try calling the Psychic Friends hot line to find out who this individual was who had ripped a hole out of my brother’s life. And then I’d rip a hole out of his.
“Now,” I said briskly, “I think you’ve gotten up to four days?”
“I think so. Anyway, I did get a ride with a chartered busload of people who were going to the gambling boats at Tunica- you know, right below Memphis? But I got them to drop me off in Memphis, because I thought I probably had a better chance at getting a ride in a city. And then I met Britta and Margery.”
“So, your mom and dad haven’t known where you were for six days, give or take a day?”
“Uh, well, I called them, you know.”
I closed my eyes. Thank God.
“I called them with my phone card, from pay phones. I’m almost out of minutes on it now. I just told them I was okay. I didn’t tell them I was coming to you.”
And it had never occurred to them, because they hadn’t called me to ask me to be on the lookout. For some reason, that made me angry. My half brother is missing, and my own father can’t call me and let me know?
I realized, looking up at his young face, that Phillip was exhausted. Though I hadn’t been around for much of Phillip’s youth, due to my father’s taking him far away from me-on purpose-when Phillip was in elementary school, I was sure that Phillip had had as sheltered and middle-class an upbringing as his parents could provide in Southern California.
“Maybe they’ll let you stay for a while,” I said. “I sure would like that.”
“I’m sorry they wouldn’t come to your wedding, or your husband’s funeral,” Phillip said miserably. “I really liked Mr. Bartell, when I met him. I tried to make them let me come by myself, but they wouldn’t listen.”
“Hey, bud, that’s okay,” I said. Of course it hadn’t been, but his parents’ bad behavior wasn’t Phillip’s fault. Martin had uncomfortably excused his son, Barrett, who had done pretty much the same thing, but Martin had been quick to become angry with my father and Betty Jo: Of course, he could see that my father had hurt me. Martin and I had stopped in to see them when we’d taken a trip to California. The visit had been very uncomfortable; the only highlight had been seeing Phil-lip.
That had been what-a year and a half ago? I figured Phillip had grown five inches in that time.
“We need to talk a little more about your trip later, and we need to call your folks, and we need to put your clothes in the wash, and you, too. You don’t have any other clothes?” I was trying to sound mature and in charge, but I’d used up a lot of whatever authority I possessed when I was dealing with my errant brother-in-law.
