"WHERE IS HE??"

Stan now stood in Kyle's room, but the problem was, Kyle wasn't in it. With him was Kyle's dad, expecting Stan to know the answer to that question.

"I don't know," Stan said for the fifteenth time. God this man was difficult to work with. "If he only disappeared the day before yesterday, why can't you just call the cops?"

"Oh, please," Gerald scoffed. "Have you seen the police force here? I'd have better luck just throwing some pancakes in the street and yelling out his name."

He had a point, Stan figured. How could they depend on one only slightly literate officer and mall cops?

"What makes you think I should know, anyway? I haven't heard from him since we got suspended," Stan tried to reason.

Of course Stan was just as curious (ok, he was quietly going nuts) as Gerald was as to where Kyle was. He didn't really look for anything in the room, just kind of stood in the middle of it and tried to take in what would probably be his last time seeing it. Besides, Kyle wasn't the note-leaving type. If he doesn't want to be found, he won't leave a trail.

"And if he didn't tell you, then I suppose he wouldn't tell anyone…" Gerald said, defeated.

Ah, Stan was a sucker for depressed middle aged men. "Maybe he's just… getting some air." Stan tried to say hopefully. "I mean, it's understandable, right? According to you, you both were…" Don't say 'suffocating'. "Really…" Don't say 'on his ass'. "Confusing him. He probably will be back in a say or two." Stan tried to smile, but couldn't find the heart to.

Gerald collapsed on his son's bed with a groan. "Stanley. I know that this must be awkward for you. I'm trying here. I even waited until Sheila was out of the house before I invited you over. But you've got to help me here."

Stan sat down next to Kyle's dad on his bed, feeling uncomfortable all around about it.

"I…" Gerald started. "Kyle's my son, Stanley. You can understand that, right? You… You must understand how much this is killing me. You must know where he is…?"

Stan just shook his head. "Mr. Brofloski, if I knew where Kyle was, don't you think I would be out there with him?"

There was a moment of silence then. Gerald stared at the floor and Stan stared at the ceiling. It was like their world came together, over Kyle.

Stan couldn't take it. He knew that Kyle had always had a problem with his mom smothering him, but his dad was ok, Stan thought. He just seemed like a lost guy looking for his son.

"…How bad do you want to find Kyle?"

Gerald blinked and thought it over for a second. Then he turned to Stan and said clearly determined, "I would turn the Earth over if it'd give me a clue as to where he is."

Stan smiled a bit. Yeah, ok.

"Kyle and I… We used to have a game. It was like a secret code, sort of. We'd leave notes for each other; little messages that almost meant nothing unless you looked close enough, in the last place anyone would look for one."

Stan stood up and walked to the center of the room. "We'd play it as a game but every once in a while we'd use it for important stuff."

He turned back to Gerald, who looked like he was being taught calculus by a kinder gardener. "I'll help you find out if he's still alive, but you have to promise me three things."

"Anything," Kyle's dad said almost too quickly.

"One," Stan said, counting it off on his fingers. "You can't tell his mom."

Gerald gave Stan an unconvinced look but then nodded.

"Two, you can't follow after him. He wants to be alone and you have to respect that."

Gerald looked sadly at the floor again but then raised his eyes to Stan and nodded silently.

"And three," Stan said, hesitating. "When he comes back," Not 'if' because there's no way he wont ever be back. "You have to let me talk to him first."

Gerald took a moment to take that all in. Then after a minute, he said, "If you ever become a lawyer you'd put me out of business. But ok, Stanley. You win."

Stan smiled and then kicked off the rug on the floor below him. "Your clue has been right under your nose this whole time."

On the wood of the floor was a tiny carving. The words were so small that Gerald had to put his face right up to it to read it.

"Limbless babies aren't less annoying, but they are less mobile. –Joey Comeau."

Gerald blinked and read it again, then looked back at Stan. "What does THAT mean?"

Stan grinned and put the rug back on the spot. "It means your son is still alive."