Free It's. Nice. Outside. by Jim Kokoris Page B

pulled a Tonto.”
    â€œGod, Tonto.”
    â€œI’m not sure what I was thinking.”
    â€œCan’t you get on a flight somewhere?”
    â€œI have all our things. And what would I do with the van? Too late for that. I’ll make it. We’ll be okay. Survive and advance.”
    Mindy was quiet again. “Where do you think you’ll be tonight? How far can you get?”
    â€œI don’t know. Knoxville. It’s a long drive, but I think I can make it. That’s where I’m aiming, at least.”
    â€œKnoxville, Tennessee?
    â€œYes, that’s where Knoxville is, yes.”
    â€œKnoxville, Tennessee. Okay,” she said. “I’ll meet you there. We can drive the rest of the way together.”
    â€œWhat? No, don’t, don’t. I don’t need you to come. Your mother needs you more. And your sister. We’ll be okay, really. Just get to Charleston.”
    â€œWhere are you staying in Knoxville?”
    I sighed. I had no energy to argue with Mindy. Besides, part of me really wanted some company, some help. I was, in fact, desperate for it. “A Marriott. I don’t have the address on me.”
    â€œI’ll find it. I’ll just tell the cab driver to take me to the tall building with electricity. There’s probably only one in Knoxville.”
    â€œYou don’t have to do this.”
    â€œTell Red Bear I’ll meet her in the hotel bar. Bye, Dad.”
    I shook my head, then slid Ethan’s orange juice glass back to him. “Bye, sweetheart.”
    *   *   *
    After an early but good lunch in a ghost of town called Williamsburg; and after an impromptu, very short, and very disappointing stop at Cumberland Falls (the falls, Ethan and I agreed, weren’t all that impressive); and after an impromptu, not very short, and very rewarding poo-poo stop at another Cracker Barrel (his crap, Ethan and I agreed, was very impressive); and after a stop at a McDonald’s for Sprites where the bears vocalized their love and respect for me (Red Bear: “I know I speak for all of us when I say there is no finer man or father than you, John Nichols”—me: “Well, thank you, Red Bear, thank you”—Red Bear: “Now … you wouldn’t happen to have anything stronger than Sprite, would you?”), we arrived in Knoxville right on schedule. Consequently, I was in good spirits when we pulled into the parking lot of the cavernous Marriott on the banks of the Tennessee River.
    â€œWell, that was a Blue Highway kind of morning,” I said as we bounded up to the reception desk. “We got a chance to see a waterfall, have lunch. You were good today, buddy, real good. And now we’re by a big river. Lots. Of. Water. Don’t. Fall. In!”
    â€œYes. Ma’am!”
    The clerk behind the desk, a young guy with thick-framed glasses and too much aftershave, glanced up from behind his computer and gave me the trying-to-act normal-around-Ethan smile. I appreciated the effort.
    I smiled back at him. “We’d like a room on the first floor.”
    He punched some keys, looked up again, and nodded. “Thank you for being a Marriott Gold member, Mr. Nichols.”
    My chest swelled, and I bowed my head. “You are most welcome,” I said humbly.
    Since we were early, we had to cool our heels while they readied our room. Ethan was compliant, absorbed in an old batteryless cell phone I had brought from home, a favorite of his. He punched the numbers officiously, mouth open, as we sat in some chairs just off the bar. Blessedly, there had been no trace of Tonto since breakfast.
    â€œYou like that phone, huh? Watch the roaming charges though!”
    I sat back and watched Ethan work the phone. His face was serious but content as he pressed more numbers and then pretended to listen.
    â€œWho are you calling?”
    â€œMom.”
    â€œWhat’s she up