The Pendleton Omens - 5. Chapter 5

Toward the end of the week, Sharon started getting antsy. Antsier. “How many times have you talked with her today?” Noah asked on the phone.

I was sleeping back at my place. We’d gotten more snow, then rain and black ice, and I didn’t want to risk driving Route 10. Noah’s wasn’t that far, but I’d probably slide most of the way.

“I’ve only talked with her twice,” I said.

“Well, you’ve been on the phone for an hour.”

“Sorry. I should put in call-waiting. It’s never been an issue.”

“You’re cell’s only taking messages, too.”

“I have it off. Charging.”

“It can do both.”

“Noah, what’s the matter?”

“Nothing. Why?”

“Something’s up.”

“I just haven’t seen you since the weekend.”

“You want me to come over now?”

I thought about the streets. They might as well be glass. Noah must have thought about them, too, because he realized the problem.

“No, I’d rather have you alive,” he said. “For another forty years.”

“You think I’m gonna last that long?” I joked.

“You’d only be eighty-three. I’d be seventy-seven.”

“But guys in my family tend to crap out before then. My dad’s counting his seconds. His dad went at seventy-two.”

“People in my family live forever. If they don’t hurt themselves first.”

Noah’s father was alive, along with both his granddads. Of course, I hadn’t met any of them. Or the women.

“When’s that gonna happen?” I’d kid.

“When Hell freezes. And it’s not that cold yet.”

I didn’t push. Any more than I’d push introducing Noah to Sharon and Owen. Jamie told her mother about Noah, and the report had only been good. “When do I get to meet him?” Sharon had asked.

“Soon,” I’d stalled. I was afraid they’d gang up on me. Of course, Owen hadn’t asked to meet Noah, though I knew he and Rob had talked, and Rob filled him in. But that seemed as close as Owen wanted to come.

“What about tomorrow night?” Noah asked.

“It’s Friday, and I’m planning to be there. But I can’t predict the weather...”

“So it’s indefinite...’”

“If you’d let me finish, I was going to say, ‘...I’ll put on snowshoes to get there.’”

He laughed. It sounded good.

“How’s work?” I asked.

“Slow,” he admitted. “That’s why I’m so bored. The storm kept Lleeya home, and half of my appointments got canceled.”

“And I’m supposed to distract you?”

“You’ve never failed.”

“Wish I were there now.”

“Yeah.” And we let it go at that. An hour later, when my cell was charged, I checked my messages. There was nothing from Scoot.

Which didn’t stop Sharon from calling. The phone rang after the eleven o’clock news.

“Now who could this be?” I joked before she could speak.

“I thought you hated Caller ID.”

“What are you talking about?”

“How else would you know it was me?”

“Who else would call at this hour?” When she didn’t reply, I said, “I spoke with Noah an hour ago.”

“I still can’t sleep,” she simply went on.

“Try some wine.”

“I already did.”

“Then try something stronger.”

“I can’t. I took a sleeping pill, but it’s not working. That’s why I’m calling you. I tried Jamie, but her phone’s off, so I think she’s trying to study. And I called Scoot again. I must’ve left four thousand messages. His machine won’t even pick up anymore. Which has me more worried. Who knows how many of his friends have called?”

“Has Amy found any more of them?”

“She’s tried. It seems she doesn’t know a lot of them. Between her hours, and the things they like to do, they pretty well keep to themselves.”

“Doesn’t sound at all like Scoot. He liked to travel in a pack.”

“Anyway, Amy said she’s trying to get the friends of his she knows to call his other friends. But they’re pretty reluctant. They keep saying he’s only been gone a week.”

“Has she spoken with Zak?”

“She said he’s in New Zealand – he has a job on some movie. That’s the problem with that business. No one’s ever where you want them to be.”

“Well, if Zak’s in New Zealand, I’ll bet Scoot is, too. They’ve worked together before, and if Zak got a job, and something came up last minute... Scoot’s always telling us how quickly people get fired...”

“He wouldn’t have gone without telling anyone,” she insisted.

“If it was really sudden?”

“He would have called when he got there.”

“Maybe he can’t. Maybe he’s off on some location.”

“He would have gotten us a message.”

“You keep coming back to that.”

“Because it’s true.”

“It doesn’t look like he did.”

“Well, make up your mind,” she said, sounding even tenser. “Is he working in New Zealand, or sleeping with some bimbo in Baja? Neither of which makes me worry any less.”

“What about Carla?” I asked.

“What about her?”

“Did Amy call her?”

“Why would she do that?”

“Did she?” I asked.

“She hasn’t mentioned it.”

“Could you ask her?”

“She might not even know Carla. Or know about her. Why should she?”

“Scoot’s pretty honest,” I said.

“There’s still no reason he’d mention her.”

I laughed. “There’s every reason he would. He likes his friends to know his other friends. He’s always been that way.”

“I don’t think Amy needs to know about Carla just now. It might make her worry more.”

“In case they’re back together?”

“They wouldn’t be.”

“That would explain where he is. And why he disappeared without telling her.”

“And why wouldn’t he answer our calls?”

“Maybe he’s embarrassed. He knows you never liked her.”

“Not never liked her. She’s just a bit strong.”

I said nothing. I knew exactly what my son saw in Carla.

“But they’ve made up before,” Sharon admitted.

“So call her.”

“I don’t want to.”

“Do you have her number?”

“She’s in New York somewhere. That’s where she moved after LA. And you know people her age – they move around. I must have eight phone numbers for Scoot alone and probably three are dead cells.”

“Well, see if you can find her. Would Jamie know? Or I’ll ask Zak. Get Zak’s number, and I’ll call him.”

“I can call Zak,” Sharon said. “And I can call Carla. There’s no reason to bother you. But I’m sure Scoot isn’t with her. He’s always talking about how different she is now. How stressed. With her career going nowhere.”

“You sound pretty stressed yourself.”

Sharon didn’t answer that.

“Are you at least getting tired?” I asked.

“Not really.”

“Then have another glass of wine. Or try something slightly stronger. And call me in the morning.”

Late in the morning, I wanted to add. But I politely hung up.

And was I worried about Scoot? Nah. I was mainly tired. So I went to sleep.