My, my, my. You guys are getting demanding. Thank you so much for all you
reviews and encouragement. I trust you'll protect me if Josh sues my ass?
Chapter Thirteen.
Sandy set the cruise control and watched for the exit ramp. He was another step closer to Ryan and fixing the mess he'd made.
"So dad, where exactly are we going and why are you driving like an old lady?"
Sandy kept his eyes on the road.
"Carmichael and no I'm not..."
"Why...? And you're driving like the Nana..."
"I'm meeting someone who knows where Ryan is and my mother doesn't drive..."
Seth leaned as far forward as the seatbelt would allow.
"Is that what the phone call was in the restaurant? She drives you crazy..."
"You're right on both counts..."
Summer shook her head.
"Okay, I need a programme to follow along here."
She realized that neither Sandy or Seth would say anything else. Seth was holding her hand and staring out the window. Sandy turned off the highway and followed the directions Jim had given him.
Now he sat in another parking lot, afraid to enter a building.
He sat in the Beemer, staring straight ahead, his hands gripped tight on the steering wheel.
Afraid that this was false hope.
Afraid it wasn't the right boy.
Still grateful that a boy who lay cold and alone wasn't Ryan.
Grieving for the parents of a boy who had lain cold and alone for 2 days before his parents found him.
"Dad?"
Sandy pulled the keys out of the ignition.
"I can do this... You can wait here..."
Seth's eyes flickered.
"No." He said hoarsely. "I owe Ryan this much... I have to be there for him..."
It was a familiar conversation.
Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
The café was busy. Sandy scanned the room, but he had no idea who he was looking for. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a man stand up.
Short-sleeved white shirt, small insignia on the collar, black pants.
He looked like a member of God's Army.
Jim found the last empty table before the Cohens arrived. He had spent the previous 25 minutes in prayer, mentally preparing himself for the meeting. He had been in this situation before.
A lost boy. Worried Parents.
Three months later, a dead boy. And parents charged with second degree murder.
He had questioned his faith after that, believing he was at fault. Believing the guilt that gnawed away at him and turning away from what had always been his source of strength and comfort. The peace he had felt when others prayed for him, praying for months when he was too weak to do so himself lifted him from despair, opening his eyes and his heart once again.
The memory of the young man stayed with him and gave him the fortitude to carry on with his work, his mission, his calling.
Sandy Cohen was easy to spot. He was a man surviving on sheer will to find his lost son, the missing piece of his family. He looked exactly as Jim had pictured him.
Disheveled. Anxious. Exhausted.
He waved the man over and seeing 3 people walk towards him, he was glad he had the foresight to grab a table for four. The Captain held out his hand.
"Mr. Cohen... I'm Jim, Jim Matthews... I'm the director of the Men's Mission..."
Sandy shook the man's hand. Jim gestured for all to sit down. He felt Sandy's eyes burn into him. A pleading stare of worry, fear and strain.
"Please... Can you tell me where Ryan is? Is he safe?"
Sandy spoke quickly, quietly, but there was no mistaking the concern in his voice.
"Ryan is fine... really. He's been working construction for a friend of mine. He has a small apartment. He's doing well."
Relief was evident not only on Sandy's face, but on Seth and Summer's as well. Sandy closed his eyes for a moment. When he opened them again, Jim could see the tears in them.
"Thank-you." Sandy whispered. He reached over and squeezed Seth's arm before pulling him into a hug. The captain watched the interaction, making mental notes. A minute later, Sandy regained some of his composure. Summer leaned into Seth, communicating her love and support with her hand in his.
"I'm sorry, Mr. Matthews..."
Jim waved Sandy off.
"Call me Jim."
"I'm sorry Jim... This is my other son Seth and his girlfriend, Summer."
Seth offered a tight smile. Forget the formalities. Where the fuck was his brother?
A waitress brought 4 mugs of coffee to the table along with a small bowl of individual creamers. Jim cleared his throat.
"You mentioned on the phone you're Ryan's lawyer and his guardian?"
Sandy nodded.
"I met Ryan a year ago... He was a client... My wife and I gained guardianship of him after his mother abandoned him. His father and older brother are in jail..."
Sandy took a sip of his coffee.
"What happened...? Why did he leave?" Jim was careful. He knew Sandy didn't have to tell him anything. That legally, he was required to tell Sandy where Ryan was, but he knew that the other man was struggling over the event that caused a 17 year old boy to run.
The rest of the coffee sat untouched while Sandy told what had happened the night Ryan left. He offered no excuses for his behaviour, he blamed no one but himself for what transpired. Sandy's guilt was compounded as he relayed that Ryan had come from an abusive background and that he had behaved no better that the other males in the boy's life.
Jim could see that Sandy's remorse was genuine. He wasn't worried for his own well being, but for the son he'd driven away. Seth had been quietly stacking the cream containers, making little towers out of plastic. He finally excused himself, unable to listen to what he had been a part of that night. Summer went with him and together they sat on the curb facing the parking lot. No words were necessary and none were spoken.
Jim watched as Sandy's eyes followed Seth and Summer. He stood until he could see where the two of them sat down outside. He lowered himself back into his chair, shifting positions until he could still see them through the window. Sandy reached for his coffee, now cold. The waitress quickly replaced his mug with a fresh one, stopping to refill Jim's empty one.
They sat quietly, lost in their thoughts.
Jim had listened carefully to Sandy, holding on to every word. Sandy didn't try to justify what happened that night. He didn't try to shift the blame or offer lame explanations why he lost control. He didn't gloss over the details of assaulting Ryan. He didn't downplay what he did. The fact that Sandy couldn't answer why he reacted the way he did made Jim believe that this was a one time incident. A horrible night where one man lost control and it very nearly cost him his family.
Perhaps it still had.
Ryan might not want to go back home.
Sandy didn't need anymore burning coals heaped onto his head.
He needed to reach out to Ryan, to fix their relationship.
Jim had seen the empty look in Ryan's eyes, but what his heart was telling him was that Ryan/Marty needed the Cohens as much as the Cohens needed him. He pulled a card from his shirt pocket. He had already written Ryan's address on the back. On the front of the card was his name, the address of the Citadel and the mission, plus the phone numbers where he could be reached.
He slid the card towards Sandy.
"This is where Ryan is. He's not too far from here."
He quickly drew a map on a clean napkin.
"He had a little, uh, mishap at work today."
Jim saw the look of concern on Sandy's face.
"He's fine... A few stitches in his hand..."
"Stitches?"
Jim smiled.
"I'll let Ryan tell you. Don't worry, okay... don't worry "more"... Just go and see him..."
Sandy shook the man's hand again and took the bill from the table, folded it in half, tucked a $20 bill inside and handed it to the waitress.
Jim watched as Sandy gathered up Seth and Summer, hugging them both. He sent up words of thanks and requests for a successful reunion. As he felt the familiar feeling of peace settle over him, Jim knew that tonight would only be the first step of many needed to bring that family together again.
It was Summer who suggested she and Seth take a cab back to the hotel. She knew Sandy had to do this by himself. Sandy wasn't fond of the idea of sending them back on their own, but it was almost 9:30 and if he drove them back to Sacramento and returned this way, it would be close to 10:30 before he'd see Ryan.
He couldn't wait that long.
He'd waited long enough.
Sandy stayed with Seth and Summer until the cab arrived. He watched as it drove away before getting into his car. He could feel his heart pounding harder as he neared the address Jim gave him. He drove past the house, his courage fading.
Dammit.
This wasn't about him.
He turned the car into a driveway and backed out, parking across form the house. The apartment. The place Ryan now called home.
He could do this. This was his responsibility. His duty as a father.
Sandy knocked on the front door.
No answer.
He knocked again, louder.
Nothing.
He looked once more at the card he was given. The apartment was located in the rear of the house. He walked back to the driveway and moved towards the gate. A set of wooden stairs led to a small deck.
Standing on the small deck, Sandy looked at the door.
The door that separated him from Ryan.
He closed his eyes and knocked softly.
He opened his eyes and knocked again.
He knocked once more and turned the door knob, startled when the door opened. Stepping in, he closed the door behind him.
"Ryan? Ryan... It's me, Sandy..."
There was just enough light filtering through the window from the neighbour's backyard for Sandy to see inside.
Ryan was asleep on the bed, the blankets tangled in his legs.
He saw the bandaged hand.
He saw the prescription bottle on the nightstand.
He saw the cell phone they had given Ryan.
He looked back at the bed.
He saw his son.
Chapter Thirteen.
Sandy set the cruise control and watched for the exit ramp. He was another step closer to Ryan and fixing the mess he'd made.
"So dad, where exactly are we going and why are you driving like an old lady?"
Sandy kept his eyes on the road.
"Carmichael and no I'm not..."
"Why...? And you're driving like the Nana..."
"I'm meeting someone who knows where Ryan is and my mother doesn't drive..."
Seth leaned as far forward as the seatbelt would allow.
"Is that what the phone call was in the restaurant? She drives you crazy..."
"You're right on both counts..."
Summer shook her head.
"Okay, I need a programme to follow along here."
She realized that neither Sandy or Seth would say anything else. Seth was holding her hand and staring out the window. Sandy turned off the highway and followed the directions Jim had given him.
Now he sat in another parking lot, afraid to enter a building.
He sat in the Beemer, staring straight ahead, his hands gripped tight on the steering wheel.
Afraid that this was false hope.
Afraid it wasn't the right boy.
Still grateful that a boy who lay cold and alone wasn't Ryan.
Grieving for the parents of a boy who had lain cold and alone for 2 days before his parents found him.
"Dad?"
Sandy pulled the keys out of the ignition.
"I can do this... You can wait here..."
Seth's eyes flickered.
"No." He said hoarsely. "I owe Ryan this much... I have to be there for him..."
It was a familiar conversation.
Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
The café was busy. Sandy scanned the room, but he had no idea who he was looking for. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a man stand up.
Short-sleeved white shirt, small insignia on the collar, black pants.
He looked like a member of God's Army.
Jim found the last empty table before the Cohens arrived. He had spent the previous 25 minutes in prayer, mentally preparing himself for the meeting. He had been in this situation before.
A lost boy. Worried Parents.
Three months later, a dead boy. And parents charged with second degree murder.
He had questioned his faith after that, believing he was at fault. Believing the guilt that gnawed away at him and turning away from what had always been his source of strength and comfort. The peace he had felt when others prayed for him, praying for months when he was too weak to do so himself lifted him from despair, opening his eyes and his heart once again.
The memory of the young man stayed with him and gave him the fortitude to carry on with his work, his mission, his calling.
Sandy Cohen was easy to spot. He was a man surviving on sheer will to find his lost son, the missing piece of his family. He looked exactly as Jim had pictured him.
Disheveled. Anxious. Exhausted.
He waved the man over and seeing 3 people walk towards him, he was glad he had the foresight to grab a table for four. The Captain held out his hand.
"Mr. Cohen... I'm Jim, Jim Matthews... I'm the director of the Men's Mission..."
Sandy shook the man's hand. Jim gestured for all to sit down. He felt Sandy's eyes burn into him. A pleading stare of worry, fear and strain.
"Please... Can you tell me where Ryan is? Is he safe?"
Sandy spoke quickly, quietly, but there was no mistaking the concern in his voice.
"Ryan is fine... really. He's been working construction for a friend of mine. He has a small apartment. He's doing well."
Relief was evident not only on Sandy's face, but on Seth and Summer's as well. Sandy closed his eyes for a moment. When he opened them again, Jim could see the tears in them.
"Thank-you." Sandy whispered. He reached over and squeezed Seth's arm before pulling him into a hug. The captain watched the interaction, making mental notes. A minute later, Sandy regained some of his composure. Summer leaned into Seth, communicating her love and support with her hand in his.
"I'm sorry, Mr. Matthews..."
Jim waved Sandy off.
"Call me Jim."
"I'm sorry Jim... This is my other son Seth and his girlfriend, Summer."
Seth offered a tight smile. Forget the formalities. Where the fuck was his brother?
A waitress brought 4 mugs of coffee to the table along with a small bowl of individual creamers. Jim cleared his throat.
"You mentioned on the phone you're Ryan's lawyer and his guardian?"
Sandy nodded.
"I met Ryan a year ago... He was a client... My wife and I gained guardianship of him after his mother abandoned him. His father and older brother are in jail..."
Sandy took a sip of his coffee.
"What happened...? Why did he leave?" Jim was careful. He knew Sandy didn't have to tell him anything. That legally, he was required to tell Sandy where Ryan was, but he knew that the other man was struggling over the event that caused a 17 year old boy to run.
The rest of the coffee sat untouched while Sandy told what had happened the night Ryan left. He offered no excuses for his behaviour, he blamed no one but himself for what transpired. Sandy's guilt was compounded as he relayed that Ryan had come from an abusive background and that he had behaved no better that the other males in the boy's life.
Jim could see that Sandy's remorse was genuine. He wasn't worried for his own well being, but for the son he'd driven away. Seth had been quietly stacking the cream containers, making little towers out of plastic. He finally excused himself, unable to listen to what he had been a part of that night. Summer went with him and together they sat on the curb facing the parking lot. No words were necessary and none were spoken.
Jim watched as Sandy's eyes followed Seth and Summer. He stood until he could see where the two of them sat down outside. He lowered himself back into his chair, shifting positions until he could still see them through the window. Sandy reached for his coffee, now cold. The waitress quickly replaced his mug with a fresh one, stopping to refill Jim's empty one.
They sat quietly, lost in their thoughts.
Jim had listened carefully to Sandy, holding on to every word. Sandy didn't try to justify what happened that night. He didn't try to shift the blame or offer lame explanations why he lost control. He didn't gloss over the details of assaulting Ryan. He didn't downplay what he did. The fact that Sandy couldn't answer why he reacted the way he did made Jim believe that this was a one time incident. A horrible night where one man lost control and it very nearly cost him his family.
Perhaps it still had.
Ryan might not want to go back home.
Sandy didn't need anymore burning coals heaped onto his head.
He needed to reach out to Ryan, to fix their relationship.
Jim had seen the empty look in Ryan's eyes, but what his heart was telling him was that Ryan/Marty needed the Cohens as much as the Cohens needed him. He pulled a card from his shirt pocket. He had already written Ryan's address on the back. On the front of the card was his name, the address of the Citadel and the mission, plus the phone numbers where he could be reached.
He slid the card towards Sandy.
"This is where Ryan is. He's not too far from here."
He quickly drew a map on a clean napkin.
"He had a little, uh, mishap at work today."
Jim saw the look of concern on Sandy's face.
"He's fine... A few stitches in his hand..."
"Stitches?"
Jim smiled.
"I'll let Ryan tell you. Don't worry, okay... don't worry "more"... Just go and see him..."
Sandy shook the man's hand again and took the bill from the table, folded it in half, tucked a $20 bill inside and handed it to the waitress.
Jim watched as Sandy gathered up Seth and Summer, hugging them both. He sent up words of thanks and requests for a successful reunion. As he felt the familiar feeling of peace settle over him, Jim knew that tonight would only be the first step of many needed to bring that family together again.
It was Summer who suggested she and Seth take a cab back to the hotel. She knew Sandy had to do this by himself. Sandy wasn't fond of the idea of sending them back on their own, but it was almost 9:30 and if he drove them back to Sacramento and returned this way, it would be close to 10:30 before he'd see Ryan.
He couldn't wait that long.
He'd waited long enough.
Sandy stayed with Seth and Summer until the cab arrived. He watched as it drove away before getting into his car. He could feel his heart pounding harder as he neared the address Jim gave him. He drove past the house, his courage fading.
Dammit.
This wasn't about him.
He turned the car into a driveway and backed out, parking across form the house. The apartment. The place Ryan now called home.
He could do this. This was his responsibility. His duty as a father.
Sandy knocked on the front door.
No answer.
He knocked again, louder.
Nothing.
He looked once more at the card he was given. The apartment was located in the rear of the house. He walked back to the driveway and moved towards the gate. A set of wooden stairs led to a small deck.
Standing on the small deck, Sandy looked at the door.
The door that separated him from Ryan.
He closed his eyes and knocked softly.
He opened his eyes and knocked again.
He knocked once more and turned the door knob, startled when the door opened. Stepping in, he closed the door behind him.
"Ryan? Ryan... It's me, Sandy..."
There was just enough light filtering through the window from the neighbour's backyard for Sandy to see inside.
Ryan was asleep on the bed, the blankets tangled in his legs.
He saw the bandaged hand.
He saw the prescription bottle on the nightstand.
He saw the cell phone they had given Ryan.
He looked back at the bed.
He saw his son.