They sat for a moment, not looking at each other. Then David rose from the bench and fished out his car keys. “We should head on out to the hardware store,” he said. “They close early on Sundays.” He waited until Anton came around the picnic table and then put his arm around the boy’s shoulder. “It will work out fine, son,” he whispered as they walked. “You’ll see. It’s gonna be okay.”
Anton nodded, the expression on his face inscrutable. They rode in silence, a million thoughts scuttling through David’s head. He knew Delores would grill him about whether they’d talked and how the conversation had gone, but the truth was, he wasn’t sure. Anton had maintained his composure, had not created a scene, but then, really, had David expected anything less from him? Maybe he would talk to Dee about whether Anton should see a therapist a few times. Although what could a therapist say? The fact was, Juanita had chosen to give up her rights to her son. And yes, David had played a role in nudging her toward that decision, but that was a secret he would take to his grave. And the only way to repay Juanita Vesper for her sacrifice was to be the best father that he knew to this boy riding next to him. David stroked the top of Anton’s head, and the boy, who had been looking out the window, turned toward him inquiringly. “You okay?” David asked.
The boy shrugged. He looked out the window again, and David noticed the hunched shoulders, his face a profile of sadness.
I know you’re sad, and I can’t blame you, David thought. But you won’t be for long. I promise. Because Delores and I—we are going to take such good care of you. You’ll see.
CHAPTER TWELVE
Delores was babbling, not making sense on the phone. She was asking David whether Anton was with him, in his chambers. Why would Anton be with him on a workday? How would Anton get to the courthouse, for Christ’s sake? Nothing that she was saying was making sense.
“Honey. Calm down. I can’t understand. Why isn’t he home? It’s after five. He should’ve been home eons ago.”
And now her words finally penetrated. “That’s what I’m trying to tell you, David. He never went to school. He—”
“Then he should be home. Why isn’t he—”
“He didn’t catch the school bus. I spoke to Colin’s mom, and Colin says he wasn’t on the bus this morning.”
David sat back in his chair, forcing back the panic and nausea that were threatening him. He had already lost one son. If something had happened to Anton . . . He couldn’t finish the thought. I’m not this strong, he thought. Please, God. Don’t test me. Not a second time. I will just lie down and never get out of bed again. Not a second time. If this is punishment for what I did to that woman, then punish me. Me. Not that sweet, innocent boy.
“David. Answer me. What should we do?”
“You’ve spoken to the school?”
“I told you. I’ve talked to the principal. He confirmed with the bus driver. Anton never caught the bus.”
He felt sick at the image that came before his eyes. “Maybe . . . Do you think he got hit by a car?”
He could tell from Delores’s voice that she’d had the same vision. “The bus stop’s only a block away. Colin’s mom says she’s been home all day and didn’t hear or see anything. We would’ve heard, David. If something happened in the neighborhood.”
“The cops would know,” he said dully, sick at the thought of uniformed officers in their house again. Again.
“I almost called them. But I wanted to check with you first. In case, you know, he showed up there.”
“I doubt he even knows where I work, Delores,” he said irritably. “He’s never done that before. Why would he come here, for God’s sakes?”
“Well, he hasn’t been himself. Ever since you gave him the news. You know.”
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw his secretary, Jane, peering into his chambers, her eyebrows raised in inquiry. He gave her an “It’s okay” sign and then said into the phone, “Don’t call the cops yet. I’m coming home.”
HIS STOMACH DROPPED when he walked into the house a half hour later and saw Delores’s distraught face. He felt his temper flare at an unknown God for inflicting this pain on her. “Dee,” he said, gathering her close. “It’s not what you think, honey. Now let’s just—”
“How do you know? How do you know it’s not what I think?”
His hands dropped to his sides and he gazed at her helplessly, a metronome of rage ticking within him at the sheer injustice of their situation and at his inability to protect her from a calamity that he knew he had visited upon her.
They were still staring at each other silently when the phone rang. David found himself paralyzed, unable to function. Not again. Sweet Jesus, not again. He dully registered that Delores had moved away from him and toward the phone. He heard her say, “Hello?” but it wasn’t until she said, “Anton? Where are you?” that he could breathe once more.
He shut his eyes, unable to bear the visions that danced around him—Anton in a hospital bed, Anton in the back of a van, kidnapped by a stranger. “What? Oh, honey,” he heard Delores say. “Are you in a safe place? Well, what’s the building number? Okay, don’t you move from there. We’ll be there as soon as we can. We’re leaving now, but it might take us a while to get there, okay? So don’t panic. And Anton, don’t talk to anyone, you hear?”
She hung up, relief lighting up her face. “Oh, David,” she said, falling into his arms. “I can’t bear this. I can’t ever live through this again.”
He put his arms around her, rocking her silently. “Where is he? He’s safe, yes?”
“He’s back there. At his old apartment. In the Roosevelt housing project. He went looking for his mom.”
David felt his body grow cold. “He ran away from here? To go back there?”
Delores must have heard something in his voice because she pulled away from him and lifted her face toward him. “Yes, he did. And I can’t blame him. He went to find his mom. Is that so hard for you to understand, David?”
He understood, he honestly did. And yet it was undeniable—the inexplicable shame that he felt, as if he’d just lost a secret contest that pitted him against a poor, uneducated black woman. Anton had chosen her. Of course he had. But Anton had run away to her—for what? Comfort? To beg her to take him back? Well, who could blame him? As Pappy always used to say, blood seeks blood; blood is thicker than water.
“David? Are you going to just stand here? Anton’s alone in that awful place. Shouldn’t we go get him?”
“Yes,” he said woodenly, grabbing his coat keys. All the while thinking that what he really wanted to do was climb into bed and pull the sheets over his eyes until he recovered from the insult Anton had levied at them. He turned toward Delores. “I’ll go get him. You should start on dinner, yes?”
“I promised him I would go.”
“Dee. I don’t want you to go to that . . . place. It’s not safe.” He signaled her with his eyes, wanting her to understand. “I’ll be back with him in a jiffy.”
She looked like she was about to argue, but instead she ran her finger lightly across his cheek. “Don’t say anything to him tonight, okay, David? We can talk to him tomorrow. Just . . . just bring the poor kid home.”
“Of course,” he said.