“There,” my mother said, tapping the glass. “Look there.”
My father slowed the Datsun and we stared out the passenger side at a sign that announced simply: ARCADE. Our flash of hope faded the moment we pulled into the lot and spotted another sign on the door: CLOSED. Through the windows, it was possible to make out dozens of hulking video games, though none gave off any light. Teenagers hung out on the sidewalk anyway. A lanky boy on a skateboard, hair so long he might have been mistaken for a girl, tried jumping the curb only to wipe out. A group of girls sat close by, smoking as they watched him dust off and attempt the stunt again.
“Good evening,” my father greeted them, rolling down the window.
The boy kicked the back of his skateboard and it leaped into his hands. He eyed our car as though ready to make a run for it. A girl with ropy bracelets around her thin wrists looked less skittish. My father’s “good evening” had sent her into a fit of giggles. “Why, good evening to you, sir,” she said, imitating the deep formality of his voice. “And how do you do this fine evening?”
If my father noticed that she was mocking him, he never let on. “I’m wondering if you’ve seen a truck.”
“Well, I’ve seen plenty of trucks this evening, sir. Eighteen-wheelers. Dump trucks. Pickup trucks . . .”
“Tell her that this one is two-tone. Brown and cream,” my mother said from the passenger seat as the girl rambled in that put-on voice. “It has a big dent on one side.”
My father repeated the information, offering a description of Howie and Rose too.
“You a cop or something?” she asked in her real voice this time, which sounded squeakier than I would have guessed.
“No. I’m not a cop.”
“So what are you? Besides creepy, I mean.”
Her friends laughed, but my parents did not acknowledge them. I hoped my father wouldn’t answer by explaining his occupation, so what he said relieved me. “I’m just a worried parent. That’s all.”
Who can predict the way people will react to a basic truth? I would not have guessed that my father’s words would cause that girl to quit teasing, but they did. She smiled and told him, “Sorry to say, there’s not been anybody like that here tonight.”
“Maybe you can try Fun and Games over in Silver Springs,” another of the girls with the same ropy bracelets suggested. “That place is open for another hour. Right, Duane?”
The skateboarder nodded and mumbled directions. My father thanked them and we were on our way. But a short while later we arrived in Silver Springs to find no sign of the truck there, either. Since the place was open, my father got out of the car. I had never been inside an arcade before, and if I asked to come in with him, I knew he’d tell me to stay behind. So I didn’t ask. I just opened my door and got out too. My father looked at me, surprised, but didn’t resist. After we stepped into the flashing lights, he weaved among the clusters of teenagers to a booth in the back where he spoke to the manager. I used the opportunity to take in those machines, blinking and buzzing away. A group of girls huddled around a game until it released a series of disappointing beeps and they stomped off. In the wake of their departure, I approached and stared at the round, yellow face on the screen, the pink bow, the dots in the maze. I put my hand on the control but had no money to make it work.
I’m guessing you like Ms. Pac-Man and Ping-Pong . . .
The girl doesn’t like any of the normal things kids her age like . . .
“Ready, Sylvie?” my father said from behind me.
“Can I play?”
“Play? Now?”
“Just a quick one. It’s only twenty-five cents.”
My father sighed. “Sylvie, you are far too bright to waste your time with this nonsense. Besides, we need to get back to looking for your sister.”
“But I don’t want to,” I said before I could stop myself.
My father grew quiet, same as when my mother challenged him in the car. In that video screen, I could see his blurry reflection—tilted head, raised eyebrows—a look usually reserved for Rose. “You don’t want to look for your sister?”
“It’s like you said about Uncle Howie. Maybe it’s better we keep our distance. Let her do what she wants, since she’s the one who chose to go with him.”
“This is nothing like the situation with your uncle. He’s a grown man. Your sister is a kid. Now I’m not sure what’s gotten into you, but I won’t have you acting out too. You’re our good daughter. The one we rely on and trust to do what we need. Right now what we need is to get back to finding Rose. So let go of that game and follow me.”