Paula babbled about the boys all the way to the theater complex. I was only half-listening. Daddy's behavior the night before had made me nervous and his considerable lateness on top of that had practically turned me inside out.
"Stop worrying," Paula finally cried as we drew closer to the movies. "He's probably with some of his buddies in some bar. My father's done that dozens of times."
"My father hasn't," I said dryly.
She shook her head and looked at me as if I lived in a bubble.
When we arrived at the theater, the boys were waiting in the lobby. Paula went right after Ed, swooping in on him as if she was afraid to let him have a moment without her voice in his ear and her face in his eyes. He looked overwhelmed, and glanced back at Barry, who just smiled and escorted me quietly to our seats. I liked Barry well enough. He was a good-looking boy and seemed very nice. His shyness was actually calming and refreshing. Most of the boys I knew thought they were God's gift to women and spent more time on their coiffure, complexion, and clothes than most of the girls.
But I was a poor date this night. Even the movie, an exciting thriller about a woman and her seven-year-old daughter imprisoned by a mad family after her car broke down on an old country road, didn't keep my attention. My mind continually drifted back to Mommy standing in that hallway, looking so small and fragile under the cloak of fear and anxiety. I couldn't wait for the show to end so I could get to the pay phone to call her.
She answered on the first ring, which told me she was hovering over the phone in anticipation.
"Mammy, isn't he back?"
"No," she said, her voice cracking. "I don't know what to do. Should I call the police? I just know what they'll do about it... nothing, I bet. A man doesn't come home to his wife for hours. That's probably not so uncommon, but your father hasn't done something like this before. He's done lots of things I could ring his neck over, but this isn't something he's done. Of course, there's no telling if he's starting some new outrage for me to tolerate."
I realized she was babbling to me.
"Call the police anyway, Mammy," I said. "Let them be the ones to tell you not to worry, but at least let them be aware of your concern."
"I don't know. It's embarrassing," she said. "But maybe you're right. Maybe..."
"Do it, Mammy," I insisted.
Finally, she agreed and hung up.
I turned to the others.
"I've got to go home." I said.
"What?" Paula cried, her face practically sliding off her skull. "We're going to get some pizza and then we're going to Ed's house and..."
"I've got to go home," I repeated. "I'm sorry. My father hasn't come home from hunting and it's almost ten o'clock. My mother's calling the police."
"Wow!" Ed said.
"Oh pooh," Paula groaned.
"I'll take her home. You two go for pizza," Barry said.
"Really? Okay," Paula said quickly. She scooped her arm into Ed's. "We'll just go ahead in my car." She practically tugged him out of the movie lobby.
"Thanks." I told Dairy. We left the theater quickly.
"I'm sorry to spoil everyone's good time," I said after we got into his car.
"No problem. There'll be other good times," he replied and I understood why I liked him. He wasn't really shy. He had a more mature way about him, a quieter, far more self-assured manner than most of the boys in my class. He was a contender for
valedictorian, only half a percentage point separating him from Judy McCarthy, a girl the other students called "Dot Com" because of her computer-like brain and zero personality.
Barry tried his best to reassure me as we drove to my house. He talked about duck hunters who lost track of time, uncles of his who went to such out-ofthe-way places for their secret spots it took half a day to get back.
"Maybe your dad just met up with one of the old-timers here who took him to his special pond or whatever. Some of these guys travel hundreds of miles to shoot a duck."
"You don't go hunting?" I asked him. He shook his head.
"I fish a little, but I've never been into guns. My father wishes I was. He'd like me to go with him, but I never took to it. Bugs, mud, ugh." he said. and I had my first smile since Daddy hadn't arrived at five.