Bluewater Springs and spent thousands of dollars trying to help. For over a year, I spent countless hours on the phone.
We planned for him to drive to Little Oak Isle. For the life of me, I can’t remember the date or the month. My thoughts revolved around the trip might do him good. It would be a short get-away from his troubles.
He indicated he’d bring his fishing rods and relax angling. Impossible for him to stay with me, as the prison regulation forbade overnight guests, I rented a room at a motel an hour's drive away. The least expensive place, yet by no means a dive. The excursion turned into a fiasco.
He called an average of fifteen minutes intervals, asking if he arrived. I slaved through a rough work shift and did not feel well. Exhausted, and with the next shift off, I took a nap.
Sleep came quick, and I remained deep into it longer than anticipated. When I awoke and turned the phone on, calls from Cody and the Bison Lodge displayed. Without delay, I phoned to explain and apologize. He professed he understood. I suggested we get together the next morning.
Cody informed me he needed to leave early. The court ordered he not leave the county without permission. I expressed dismay why he hadn’t told me of the fact but did not receive a coherent answer. He promised to text or call when he reached home.
The next morning, I waited with concern. Close to noon, I received a telephone call from the manager of the motel who advised me something troubled her.
She explained Cody acted strange during the duration of his stay and insisted they towed his car. He could not locate it. I told her I’d drive to the motel.
Upon arrival, I approached the front desk and introduced myself. The employee on duty informed me the manager left the premises, but she’d call her to return. We proceeded to Cody’s room.
The manager unlocked the door, and we stepped inside. Cody lay in bed, and I hollered his name.
“I’m okay,” he said, empty beer cans littering the room.
The manager left, and I queried Cody when he recalled having last seen his car. He had the keys and stated he remembered eating at a wing place the night before.
This revelation turned out meaningless, as many restaurants and joints in the area serve wings. He remarked he walked back to the motel and recollected making a two-mile trek.
We set out to search for his vehicle. I drove through each restaurant and bar parking lot within a two-and-a-half-mile radius. The thought someone stole the car clouded my mind. I disregarded it as a remote consideration because of his state-of-mind and earlier level of intoxication.
We made the decision to get a bite to eat. Cody ordered a Rueben sandwich, and I stuck with my usual standby of a cheeseburger with sautéed onions. Hold the lettuce, tomato, and pickles.
Under normal conditions, I wouldn’t have instructed the bartender not to serve Cody alcohol, but viewed it best. In deference, I refrained from imbibing. We chose iced tea.
The ordeal wore on me, and I did not feel one-hundred percent. Discouraged, tired, and drained of emotion, we headed back to the motel. At one o’clock in the morning, Cody woke me out of a sound sleep.
He shifted around the room, gathering items as he packed. I asked what he planned on doing.
“I need to get home,” he said.
“How will you without a car?” I asked.
A look of bewilderment and consternation emerged on his face.
“You mean we didn’t find it last night?” he said shocked.
“No, Cody, we didn’t,” I said.
He collapsed onto his bed.
We hit a brick wall and realized we needed help to solve the mystery. I informed him it best I call the Sheriff’s Department and he agreed.
Judgment told me not to have them come straight to the motel. I drove three-quarters of a mile to a 24-hour grocery store.
This place of business had a familiarity as it adjoined the highway across from the entrance to the hotel resort I used to work at. Cody gave me his driver’s license, and I headed out.
I entered the store and recognized the employee at the register. We remembered each other’s names. I explained the need to call the sheriff’s department and provided a synopsis. He appreciated the information and wished me luck.
I walked outside and made the call to the non-emergency number. Imagine if you will, the exchange as I attempted to explain the predicament.
“Am I to understand you want to report a stolen vehicle?” the deputy who answered asked.
“Well, no, sir,” I replied. “I can’t state with confidence someone stole the vehicle.”
“Okay, you’re not reporting a stolen vehicle,” he continued. “What’s the problem?”
I was exasperated.
“I don’t want to insinuate someone didn’t steal it,” I said. “I consider it a remote likelihood. We can’t locate it.”
“Where did you last see the car?” he asked.
I kept my composure.
“I haven’t,” I said. “My son can’t remember when he last saw it, but he walked back to his motel room from wherever he left it.”
I deliberated telling him I last saw the car in Bluewater Springs but realized it wouldn’t help. I struggled to provide insight into Cody’s current state-of-mind and a bit of the background leading to the moment.
“I’ll send a deputy to meet with you,” he said.
Within ten minutes, two sheriff’s cars pulled into the lot. They initiated contact, and I explained the dilemma.
I mentioned my employment with the Georgia Department of Corrections and assignment to Little Oak Isle Work Camp. The deputies listened with intent and compassion, if not initial confusion.
I provided them with Cody’s driver’s license and asked if they wanted mine. They answered in the affirmative. I reached into my left side trouser pocket, withdrew my wallet, and flung it open. I retrieved my license and handed it to the lead deputy while closing my billfold.
Underneath the driver’s license lay my State of Georgia Weapon Carry License. The deputies’ observation skills became evident.
“Is that a concealed weapon carry license?” he asked.
“Yes, sir,” I replied.
“Do you have any weapons on you?” he asked.
“No, sir,” I said.
Both deputies returned to their respective vehicles. After a brief amount of time, they reemerged.
The lead one asked questions, and I provided answers and explanations the best I could. They reached the point where they wanted to speak with Cody and forewarned me if they determined a
