Chapter 2

The second to last student was picked up about twenty minutes late. The girl looked near tears until her mom arrived, then she seemed angry.

Shawn was the opposite. He didn't seem to be affected at all. He'd set his duffel bag down on the sidewalk and sat on it, chattering to Jon.

"—and Cory didn't want to touch the banana slug, so we didn't end up pranking anyone with it. It was probably good though, some of the other guys pulled a prank and they ended up getting KP. I mean, I don't really care about KP, but they had to get up at six. That's way too early. It's bad enough they made all of us get up at seven." He sighed, kicking his feet. "Did you ever go to outdoor school, Mr. Turner?"

"Uh. Not exactly." Jon shot a concerned look at Feeny.

Feeny cleared his throat. "Shawn, who is supposed to be picking you up?"

"Probably my dad. My mom wouldn't have been this late. But don't worry, he's on his way. Probably just lost track of time or fell asleep or something."

"Jonathan, why don't you go into the school and give Shawn's father a call?"

Jon winced—he hadn't been able to forget what had happened the last time he'd called Chet Hunter, though Feeny still believed it hadn't had anything to do with Jon's call. This was different, though. "Sure," Jon said, and he headed into the school.

It took him a few minutes to find the files, look up Shawn's home number, and work up the courage to dial the number. There were two numbers listed. Jon had left a message on the first machine and was halfway through leaving a message on the second when Chet picked up.

"Teach? You there?"

Jon sighed. "Hi, Chet. Are you coming to pick up your son?"

"His momma's supposed to be pickin' him up."

"Well, we haven't seen her yet, and we've been back for—" Jon checked his watch— "about a half an hour. Can you come get your son?"

"No can do, Teach. It's Virna's night to get 'im."

"Is there a number where we can reach her?"

"Ah. The school should have it."

"I've tried both the numbers we have. No one answered either."

"Well, try the other one again."

"Chet, someone needs to come get him."

"She'll be there."

"And what if she doesn't come?"

"Look Teach, I'm, uh, I'm not in town. I can't help you with this one. Not my responsibility."

"He's your son!"

"My wife's gotta step up and do her part."

"Chet, if you don't come, we're going to be forced to call the police."

"Good. Maybe they can find my wife. Come to think of it, I haven't heard from her in a couple weeks."

A couple weeks. "When did you two agree that she was the one who was going to pick him up?"

"Ah, I'll be back to take him offa my wife's hands in a bit. Give her my love."

"She's not—"

But he'd already hung up.

Jon placed the phone back on the receiver. Slowly, he picked it up and dialed the other number again, but no one picked up. He had no idea what he was supposed to tell Shawn.

Shawn stood up from his suitcase when Jon got back to the sidewalk.

"What did he say?"

"Uh." Jon looked over at Feeny. "Can I speak to you?"

Feeny nodded and took a few steps away from Shawn.

Jon looked over his shoulder, at the boy who had sat back down on his duffel bag and rested his elbows on his knees, looking down at the ground. "He's not coming," Jon whispered.

Feeny raised his eyebrows. "Did you call his mother?"

"I called both the numbers. Chet picked up to tell me Shawn's mother was supposed to pick him up, but I couldn't get ahold of her."

"Did you tell him that?"

"Of course."

Feeny gave Jon a look, and he headed into the school building.

Jon wandered back over to Shawn, who looked up at him. "He'll come," Shawn said. "Did you see me fit a whole apple in my mouth yesterday?"

"Yeah, I did. Shawn, has this ever happened before?"

"Yeah, but last time it got stuck. Cory's dad had to—"

"Not that. Has your dad ever . . . not come to pick you up?"

"He's sometimes really late. But usually I just walk home."

Jon frowned. He figured that might have made sense for a daytime trip. It was long past dark now. "Well, maybe I can take you home."

"You don't have to. I could walk."

Jon knew it would be futile to try to explain to him that it wasn't safe. "That's a pretty heavy bag."

"Oh. Yeah."

It was a few minutes before Feeny stepped out of the building, fuming. "It's been forty five minutes. We give her to the hour, then we call the police."

Shawn's eyes went wide. "What? No!"

"I don't think that's necessary, George," Jon said. "Why don't I just drive him home?"

"Shawn's father is out of town. We don't know where his mother is. This is child abandonment."

"I-I can stay home alone," Shawn said. "I've done it lots of times."

Jon didn't know how he felt about that. "Why don't we just take you home and see if anyone's there?" Maybe a neighbor would have more information.

"Fine," Feeny said. "Shawn, grab your things."

Shawn winced. "Can't you take me, Mr. Turner?"

Jon looked up at Feeny, who raised his hands in surrender. "Call me when he's safe," Feeny said.