The Search - a missing scene for
Ties My Father Sold Me
(Did you ever wonder just how and when Mark learned to search the federal building for the information to find his father? Usual disclaimers apply. I don't own them, make no money from them, and promise to return them safe and sound right after recess.)
(On the estate, the main house and the gatehouse)
Judge Milton C. Hardcastle, retired jurist, hard-nosed lawman, tough decision maker and (according to one ex-con) the world's most stubborn donkey, was stymied. His best friend's birthday was just a week away and he had no idea what kind of a gift to buy for him. It didn't help that said friend had never officially told Milt when his birthday was or if he even celebrated such occasions.
The process wasn't helped along by the fact that the birthday boy was a young ex-con who had been paroled into the judge's custody by use of a little blackmail, a little fear of going back to prison, and a promise of justice. Just what did you give a guy like that? Hardcastle leaned back in his leather chair, rested his white head on the back and stared at the ceiling as he pondered the question. Mark McCormick was still the biggest enigma Hardcastle had ever come up against.
"Mark McCormick, young, curly-haired, ex-race car driver, ex-con, parolee, gee what else can I list?" Mark threw down the magazine he was reading and propped his feet up on the end of the couch. He was relaxing in his living room (okay it was the living area of the Judge's gatehouse) and contemplating the series of events that he called his life. Though he hadn't told anyone about it, his thirtieth birthday was only six days away. "Thirty years old and what have I got to show for it? The Coyote and a prison record?" Mark let the magazine drop to the floor and folded his hands across his stomach.
He knew that he was feeling a good deal of self-pity and he really didn't care. He had reached a point in his life where he was supposed to have it all, and instead he had nothing, nothing but Judge Milton C. Hardcastle. A man who didn't even know about Mark's upcoming birthday. Mark had come to admire and respect Hardcastle and was genuinely thankful for the gruff man who had blackmailed him and bullied him into accepting the unusual parole agreement that allowed him to live and work with the retired judge. Mark's life now had a bit of purpose to it that had been missing for several years. Racing had seemed the way out of the pit that he called his childhood, but a vengeful ex-girlfriend had ended that. Two years of prison had reinforced the lessons of his childhood, trust no one.
Childhood, yea right. Childhood was supposed to be full of fun and birthday cakes and trips to the zoo and parents. Mark's heart ached for the mother who had died when he was only twelve. The two of them had lived in a one room apartment over a dingy store with Donna McCormick working fifteen and sixteen hour days just to pay the rent and put a little food on the table. She hadn't told Mark about how sick was becoming or about the cancer until she had to quit work. She had spent the last three months of her life with Mark and the welfare system caring for her. She had died alone while Mark was at school. She hadn't listened to Mark's pleas to be allowed to stay home and care for her. She believed that schooling was the only way out of the poverty Mark was forced to share with her. Mark's father had abandoned them both on the child's fifth birthday, and her son had never celebrated his birthday after that. He would let his mom make a little something for dinner, but he always insisted that birthday parties were for kids that had parents, not for little boys who behaved so badly that their daddy went away.
Mark sighed mightily and rolled over. Life after his mother's death had been hard. His father's family was completely unknown, his mother's family wanted nothing to do with him because his parents hadn't been married. The system (as Mark called it) had finally convinced his mother's oldest brother to take in his orphaned nephew, and Mark had lived there for three miserable years. He had run away to Florida when he was fifteen and tried to earn money by washing cars and doing odd jobs for the small businesses on the streets. It hadn't taken long for him to resort to petty thievery just to live. He had gotten in with a group of kids and by the age of seventeen had stolen his first car. That one had earned him time in juvenile hall. More time passed, he made his way out to California, found a job at a racetrack and teamed up with his first and only real friend, Flip Johnson.
Flip had encouraged the young man and had stood by him even when life had taken Mark down the wrong turn. Mark was good at racing, but had run afoul of the law and had ended up in prison twice. Mark had met Judge Hardcastle in court both of those times and now understood that he had gotten off much more lightly than he should have. How he wished that he could have forseen how much of his life he would have ended up owing the stubborn judge. First the trials and the prison sentences, then the bizzare partnership that brought Mark to live at the judge's home and finally the deep bond of friendship that the two men shared. As much as he admired and respected Hardcastle, Mark knew that there was still something missing in his life, something that he just had to find.
Mark finally came to a decision. He sat up on the couch and reached for a scrap of paper that was lying there. Reading it slowly, Mark pulled the phone closer to him and dialed the number on the paper. "Hello, is this the office of the Lowery's Investigations? I need to track down someone but all the information I have is about twenty five years old."
(On the plane home from Atlantic City)
Mark's gaze never left the window. His body language was despondent, and his face mirrored that mood. He had been very quiet and soft-spoken the night before, after receiving the note that Sonny had left for him at the lounge. The packing, the ride to the airport, boarding the plane had all been done in silence. It wasn't that he didn't have anything to say, it was that he had to much to say but no one to say it to. The young man leaned his head against the window and closed his eyes.
Hardcastle's heart was heavy with worry for his friend. Sure, he had been a bit jealous when Mark had confessed about his search for his father, but he had admitted to himself long before that he would do whatever he could to help Mark rebuild his life. All he knew of McCormick's past was what was in the social services file that Milt had found buried deep in Rosie's precious file system at the courthouse. Rosie didn't know that the judge had borrowed it and Mark had never seen it. After living through the deaths of his own wife and son, Hardcastle could easily understand why the young man beside him didn't want to think that he was alone in the world. He could admit now that he was jealous of Sonny Daye, but that jealousy had turned to deep shock when he heard Mark read the note that his father had left when he had been abandoned again.
Mark had told him about the search for his father and how he had spent some of his precious savings on a detective agency to track down Tommy Knight. The report had come back to him saying that Tommy Knight was a known safecracker and had disappeared into the FBI system as a paid informant. That information had led to Mark's after hours visit to the local Federal building to find our more about the man who had changed his name multiple times to become Sonny Daye, nightclub singer.
Now Hardcastle could only support Mark and try to let him know that even though he had been abandoned for the second time in his life, he was not alone. The judge sighed and opened the book he had brought onto the plane. He had only read a couple of pages when Mark spoke softly.
"It was your idea, wasn't it?" Mark turned his head to look squarely at his friend. "It wasn't Sonny's idea to rob that safe. You talked him into it, didn't you?" Mark briefly reconsidered the time he had spent listening to Tommy Sales and his associates as they planned his death after forcing Sonny to rob a safe for evidence. He hadn't been scared then, just resigned. He knew that Hardcastle would rescue him but had really wanted to believe that Sonny had acted out of compassion for his son. After his rescue and the arrest of his kidnappers, Mark had convinced himself that his father had engineered his safe return. "I should have known better", he told himself bitterly.
Hardcastle cleared his throat and considered his answer carefully. He knew that Mark deserved the truth, but he also knew that Mark didn't deserve to be hurt anymore. He didn't have to answer.
"I knew that all along, but I really wanted to believe that Sonny did it for me. That I was worth something to him all along. This whole trip was a mistake. I shouldn't have gone searching for him. Now I've managed to disappoint you and drive him away again."
"You have the right to know who your father is. I'm sorry it turned out like this. Nothing changed really. You still have me after all." Hardcastle pasted one of his quirky grins onto his face and lightened his tone of voice.
"Yea Hardcase, I've still got you, you stubborn donkey." McCormick let a brief smile play on his face as he turned toward his friend and shook the outstretched hand.