Free Forgive Me, Alex by Lane Diamond

another thought.
    ***
    May 20, 1978
    My supervisor tapped me on the shoulder as I took an order at the counter, and relieved me so I could take an important phone call. What was so important that someone would interrupt me at work? Then I remembered that Alex was home alone. Perhaps Dad was running later than expected and Alex was getting antsy. I picked up the phone.
    "Tony, it's Dad. Do you know where Alex is?"
    "Alex? You mean he's not home?"
    "No. I've called a few of his friends but I can't locate him."
    "That's weird. I know he was looking forward to the pizza you were bringing home for dinner." I considered the possibilities for a second. "Have you tried Frank's place?"
    "Frank!" The relief almost whistled out of his mouth. "I can't believe I didn't think of that. Go on back to work and don't worry about it."
    I shared his relief. The Hoopster didn't think to leave a note, but with pizza on the way he'd probably run through the door at any moment. I drudged back to work, got busy, and finished my shift without thinking any more of it. Afterward, I did a quick change in the men's room at the restaurant before I called Diana, her voice instantly recognizable by her simple, "Hullo."
    "Hey, good lookin', whatsya got cookin'?"
    "Hey!"
    The excitement and enthusiasm in that single word provided a rush no drug could match.
    "Are you coming to get me?"
    "Yep, I just have to call my dad to let him know where we'll be and when I'll be home. I should be there in ten minutes. Will you be ready?"
    She assured me in that try-not-to-be-a-smartass way that she'd be ready and I needed to get my butt in gear. She then added her customary sign-off, "Smooch-smooch."
    Geez, give me a break. I looked around to ensure that nobody could hear. "Smooch-smooch."
    When I phoned home to inform Dad of my plans for the night, an unexpected voice offered a simple, monotonous reply. I hesitated and waited for it to register.
    "Frank, is that you?"
    "Hi Tony."
    "You decided to join the gang for some pizza, huh?"
    Silence ensued for a few seconds. "Are you still at work?"
    "Yeah, but I'm about to leave. I need to update Dad first."
    "Actually, he intended to call you as soon as he got out of the bathroom. It's been rather.... Maybe you'd better cancel your plans and come on home."
    What in hell is that supposed to mean? "Frank, what's going on? Where's my dad? Where's Alex?"
    "Please come home right away."
    He hung up.
    I stared at the phone for about a half-second before I ran to my car, jumped in and sped off as though engaged in the most important race of my life. What in hell had happened? I had no idea, yet somehow my mind returned to Alex, who'd been missing earlier in the day. Might something have happened to him? Why hadn't Frank said more? Why did he sound so worried?
    The short drive home usually took about four minutes. I arrived in two.
    Parked in the driveway was Frank's car, in front of the open garage that contained Dad's car, to the right of.... O h shit! A police cruiser.
    God, this can't be good.
    It had to be Alex. He was probably hurt—something minor—or in some kind of trouble. But something that required the police? What could that be?
    I parked in the grass alongside the garage, bolted from the car almost before cutting the engine, and ran into the house.
    It wasn't as bad as I thought, or it was worse. Alex was missing. His baseball cards were sprawled haphazardly over his bedroom floor, an ominous sign for those of us who knew the Hoopster. Nobody we knew had heard from him. His bicycle, his only mode of transportation besides walking, remained in the garage.
    Dad provided Officer Sam Weaver with a recent picture of Alex, to go along with my description of what he wore when I last saw him. I explained to Weaver the earlier events and exactly why Alex had been home alone. It had seemed so reasonable at the time, so innocent. Yet at that moment, guilt and anger beat me like the proverbial redheaded stepchild. If the look on his