this the weekend,” Jim asked, perplexed, “Scott was going to change the motor from the yellow Camaro to the white one?”
“Yes. It’s down at the place where he works. It’s half torn apart already. I know it doesn’t make sense, but I have the keys right here in my hand.” She sounded impatient—the first emotion Jim had detected in her voice.
Jim was unnerved. Doubts echoed. Scott would not go anywhere without his car. And he would not pick this weekend to go away. He was involved in a major project, transferring the motor from Yellow Thunder into a white Camaro he had just bought. The body of the white car was in better condition than the yellow one, but the motor in Yellow Thunder was better. From the two, Scott would create a car superior to either one.
More uncertainties reverberated: discussing his plans the last time Jim and his son had talked, Scott had also told his dad that he was entering another Crank It Up competition for the electronics store where he worked as a car stereo installer. The goal of the competition was to install a stereo in a vehicle in a way that would get the best performance at the highest decibel level without distortion of the sound. Scott was a genius at this sort of thing and had won dozens of first place trophies as evidence of his creativity. In fact, he had told Jim, with a grin in his voice, he had been given the nickname “Ice Man,” because he had figured out that by putting blocks of ice on the tops of the speakers, he could increase the quality of sound at exceptionally high decibel levels. Jim couldn’t understand what was going on. Scott would not miss one of those competitions. Nor would he just take off without letting Jim know he was going to do it. He always kept in touch. And this strange woman was telling him four days had passed since Scott had left.
“Why did you wait so long to call me?” Jim demanded.
“I was mad at Scott for leaving like that,” she said bluntly. “I figured he’d be back home in a couple of days. But now I’m starting to worry. He hasn’t been to work. He hasn’t called his boss. No one’s seen him anywhere.”
“Do you know if he was seeing other women?” Jim asked, thinking of Jessica, the girl Scott had spoken of.
“No,” she snapped. “I don’t know. It’s possible, I guess.”
Jim took a deep breath and let it out slowly before he answered. He didn’t want to jump to conclusions. Perhaps all this was just a misunderstanding. Perhaps Scott would surface momentarily and his father would feel foolish when he heard some perfectly reasonable explanation. He didn’t want to cause Scott problems at work now that everything appeared to be going so well for his son. “Let’s give it a couple more days,” he said hesitantly. Leisha agreed and gave him her phone number at the restaurant where she worked.
After hanging up, Jim sat, motionless, thoughts racing round and round in his head. Scott had pulled his share of pranks through the years, but not this kind. Scott was so enthusiastic, so funny, so clever, that everyone liked to be around him. His twinkling blue eyes, daredevil smile and amiable manner drew people to him. It was almost impossible not to like him. Girls, especially, were drawn to his blond good looks.
Throughout his school years, Scott had trouble studying because he was dyslexic and that made him a poor reader. After high school, Scott served a short stint in the Army. Despite his academic problems, Jim knew Scott had what it takes to be a success—the brains, the personality, the motivation. He was a genius with anything electronic; it was almost as if he had a sixth sense. He knew every circuit, every wire and how they all connected. He could take any gadget apart and put it back together again.
For a while he floundered and couldn’t seem to find himself. When Jim’s grandfather died, Jim asked Scott if he would like to live in his great-grandfather’s house in Shallowater, Texas, a Lubbock suburb, and go to college. Scott agreed, moved into the house and entered South Plains College in Levelland, Texas.
However, it became apparent that Scott still could not hack academic life. He continued to have difficulty keeping up and his grades were not good. He was a doer, not a student. He wanted to be out there creating things, not studying them. Moving to Abilene, Texas, Scott worked for the original ProSound Electronics store. Impressed with Scott’s ingenuity, Max Gianoli, the owner of the store, created an entire new department for Scott, installing car stereo systems. This soon became his primary business. The shop was so successful that Gianoli opened a branch store in Lubbock and told Scott he would be the manager when the store was established. To Jim’s delight, Scott settled once more in the very place where he wanted his son to live—his home town.
In fact, with Scott’s announcement that he was planning to marry Jessica, Jim felt everything seemed to be working out for Scott. Business at ProSound was booming; he had made a television infomercial for the store and his competition stereos were winning a lot of awards.
Moreover, he saw signs that his and Scott’s relationship was reaching a new level of communication. During their last telephone conversation, Scott had told Jim about his insight. “Dad,” he said, “I was listening to this country song on the radio. It was by George Strait and it reminded me of you. It said, ‘Daddies don’t love their children every now and then. It’s love without end, Amen.’
“I’m beginning to understand just what that song means,” he told his father. “I know you have always loved me and you always support me in whatever I do. Listen,” Scott said, obviously excited by his idea of bringing his dad closer, “why don’t you move to Lubbock? I know you have such a flame in your heart for this town. I wish you would move back. You don’t belong in Pennsylvania. It’s just not Texas. We could open a father/son car stereo store here and I guarantee it will make a lot of money.”
His words had touched Jim’s heart. Jim felt that, at the age of twenty-four, Scott was maturing into a caring, introspective adult.
What had happened to his son in the interval since they spoke?
Although he had told Leisha Hamilton they should wait before making any formal inquiry, Jim sat worrying, his thoughts flying back and forth. It was possible that Scott had simply gone to Dallas to be with Jessica. She might be home from school by now. Or maybe he had flown to Mississippi to help her drive back to Texas. That would explain his leaving his car behind. Four days was just a long weekend, Jim told himself.
A few minutes later, he wasn’t so sure. Something could have happened to Scott. He might be badly hurt. He might be sick. Should I call the police? Jim wondered, but he knew the police probably wouldn’t take Scott’s disappearance seriously after only these few days.
Jim pushed himself out of his chair, his thoughts clouded by fear. He picked up the picture of Scott and himself and felt strangely cold. The snapshot had been taken the last time Jim and Barb had gone to Texas, to attend a family wedding. Now, Jim remembered standing on his cousin Diann’s front lawn, watching Scott’s car roar off down the street. As he watched, Jim had been seized by a sudden chilling thought: this was the last time he would ever see Scott.
He hadn’t seen his son since that day and now he wondered, heavy hearted, if his momentary foreboding had come true. Jim shook off the misgivings, replaced the photo on the desk and went to bed, but he could not sleep. He
