Take Me With You

by Catherine Ryan Hyde

  August struggled to his feet. His canes leaned against the bathroom door, but he didn’t really need them inside the rig, because the middle aisle was so narrow and there was always something to lean on. He teetered to the back door to help Henry, who appeared frozen, like a little bird suddenly caught in a child’s hand.

  “Officers,” he said. “I know this looks like illegal camping, but we’re broken down. A third member of our party is off getting parts to get us back on the road.”

  “Sir, please step out of the vehicle,” the older of the two officers said.

  He was maybe forty, beefy, with short blond hair, and his partner was a frightened-looking rookie who barely looked as old as Seth.

  “I know it’s probably illegal to park here, but this is emergency parking.”

  “Sir, I don’t want to have to ask you again. Step out of the vehicle.”

  His tone settled hard into August’s stomach like a sour and undigested meal.

  Henry stepped down into the dirt, silent, still in just his underwear and bare feet, his hands in the air as though he’d been caught robbing a bank.

  “Okay. Officer. I hear that request. And I want to comply. My goal is to comply. But I’m disabled, and it’s very hard for me to come down the back stairs without assistance. I could go through the front and come out the passenger door. There’s a handle there for me to hold.”

  “No,” the officer said, still with one hand alarmingly perched on his sidearm. “Where I can see you at all times.”

  “I can’t. I’ll fall.”

  The officer’s eyes left him for a split second. Fastened on Henry. “Can you get him down?”

  “I think so,” he said, his voice sounding squeaky. It reminded August of the little cartoon mouse of his seven-year-old voice, so long ago.

  “No fast moves. And always so I can see your hands.”

  Still frightened but thinking this was crossing the line into foolish overkill, August said, “Officer, with all due respect, we’re in our underwear and pajamas. The idea of a concealed weapon doesn’t really fit the moment.”

  “Sir,” the officer said, “step out of the vehicle.”

  “Woody, stay,” August said, and the dog sank into an uncomfortable-looking down position and turned his head away.

  August held the metal ladder on the outside of the rig with one hand, though it became harder to hold as he stepped down, and Henry braced him with his whole body, under his other arm, tightly wrapping August’s chest. Then Henry tried to bolt up the stairs to get August’s canes.

  “Right where you are,” the officer said.

  “He can’t stand without his canes.”

  “He’s standing,” the officer said.

  With a flip of his head he indicated August, who was standing with his back pressed against the rear of the motor home, holding on to the ladder with both hands to steady himself.

  “Just stand right there and keep your hands where I can see them.”

  It struck August as unnecessary repetition, especially since he couldn’t move his hands without risking falling on his ass in the dirt.

  “I just have to close the screen door,” Henry said. “So the dog won’t come out.”

  No reply. So he did. Slowly.

  Dawn was just barely breaking, the steely sky perfectly cloudless. No cars came whooshing by to rock the rig. They might as well have been on the surface of a distant and uninhabited planet.

  “What’s this all about?” August asked. “Is this really all because we’re parked on the side of the highway?”

  The officer ignored him completely and addressed Henry. “Henry Reedy?”

  August could see Henry’s Adam’s apple bob as he swallowed hard. Henry nodded so slightly that the movement was barely perceptible in the thin light.

  “We’re going to have to take you into custody, son.”

  “What did I do?” the little cartoon mouse asked.

  “You’ve been reported as a runaway minor. So we’re taking you in. We’ll release you when your father comes to take you back to California.”

  Henry closed his eyes. Left them closed for a long time. August watched him in the strobing red. Wondering what Henry was feeling. Wondering what he himself was feeling. Waited for Henry to open them again. Or something. Or anything. He waited for anything to happen. While he waited, he not only wondered what would happen next, he wondered why he hadn’t known the minute he saw the flashing lights. Why hadn’t he known?

  Then, as a thought out of place, he remembered Seth was missing. It filled him with a complete and utter sense that all was lost. What would he do when they took Henry away and he was left here, broken down and alone?

  “He’s just being jealous and mean.” Henry’s voice sounded a little deeper. “He knew I was going away for the summer. He didn’t care if I went away with Seth. He just doesn’t like August, because he’s jealous of August.”

  “Son,” the officer said, “I have a report of a runaway. You’ve been reported. We don’t sort these things out in the field. I don’t stand out here like some kind of family court. You father reported you missing. He wants you back. We give you back. End of story.”

  The officer stepped forward and took Henry by one elbow. Henry reflexively jerked his arm away.

  “By very careful what you do from this moment on, son,” the officer told him, his voice a brick wall of warning. “You’re being asked to comply with the reasonable requests of an officer. You don’t want to play games with that.”

  August saw Henry deflate. Saw the air billow out of him, leaving him shorter, softer. Defeated. The officer took his arm again, and he allowed himself to be led. August watched him step away and felt he was surely losing him. The promise of their summer together slipped away one step at a time.

  “Aren’t you even going to let him go in and get some clothes?” August asked.

  The officer leading Henry stopped. Looked at the boy as if for the first time. Then he looked to his young partner.

  “Take him inside and let him get dressed. You stay right here,” he added in August’s direction.

  “I hate him,” Henry said under his breath as he passed where August stood, still clutching the rig’s ladder.

  “Don’t,” August said. “Don’t let him make you hate. Don’t let anybody make you hate.”

  He wondered how long it would be before he got to say anything to Henry again.

  A few moments later the boy emerged onto the back steps in jeans and a T-shirt and flip-flop sandals. Standing tall on the top step, he said in a loud, deep voice, “At least let me call him.”

  “I’m not sure what good you think that’ll do,” the officer said.

  “Maybe I can get him to change his mind.”

  “He’d actually have to withdraw the report.”

  “Maybe I can get him to.”

  The two cops, the younger of whom was still standing in the rig behind Henry, exchanged a glance.

  “I guess it wouldn’t hurt anything.”

  Henry turned to bound back inside, but the young officer stopped him with one hand on his chest.

  “We’ll call him from the patrol car,” the older officer said. “We’ll have dispatch call him, and then they’ll patch you in.”

  The young cop walked to the patrol car with Henry and placed him in the back just the way you see on TV. One hand bending the top of his head down so he couldn’t hit it on the metal roof. Then he slammed the door, closing the boy in. He walked around to the driver’s-side door and sat inside with his long legs out, talking on the radio. August couldn’t hear what he said.

  He looked up at the older cop, still standing in the same spot in the dirt. “May I sit down on the steps? It’s hard on my arms, what I’m doing here.”

  “Sure,” the cop said, and it was the first time he had sounded entirely human since August met him. He walked over and leaned his back against the rig. “Sorry about the indignity of standing out here in your pajamas without y
our canes. Sorry about the thing with the hands on the guns. These stops can be dicey. You just don’t know what you’re walking into. Ninety-nine times it’s gonna be fine, but the hundredth time stuff happens. And if it’s gonna happen, it’s gonna happen fast, and if you’re not prepared, it’s gonna be too late.”

  “I understand,” August said. And, to his surprise, he really did.

  “I know family stuff is hard. We don’t like this any better than you do. But once that report gets filed, there’s nothing we can do but our jobs.”

  August nodded slowly. A moment passed in silence.

  “His father is an alcoholic,” August said. Quietly. “I really don’t think he’s a bad guy. But he’s a difficult guy. He makes a lot of bad choices. He doesn’t like me, because I’m a recovering alcoholic. It’s just one of those mirrors he doesn’t like looking into. It was the boys’ idea to do this for me. It’s really important to them to take me on this trip. And the fact that it’s so important to them sets him off. Because it shows I mean something to them.”

  “Yeah, well. Like I say. Family stuff is hard. I know. I’ve got a family.”

  They sat and leaned in silence for a moment, and then Henry’s voice split the early morning chill. It was strong and deep. It was so loud August could hear it. All the way from the backseat of the patrol car.

  Henry was yelling at his dad.

  “This is the worst thing you ever did to me! How could you do this? You do this because you hate August, because you think he’s a better man than you are. Well, I’ve got news for you, Dad. He is a better man than you are. Because he would never do a thing like this. You do these mean, jealous things, and then you expect me to respect you. How can I respect you when you do things like this? If you think I look up to August more than I look up to you, maybe this is why. Maybe try acting like a good person and I could look up to you, too. Why don’t you try that, Dad? Why don’t you try showing me something I can respect, and then maybe I can respect you!”

  Then silence. Maybe his dad was saying something. Maybe he’d just lowered his voice. August couldn’t see enough from where he was sitting to tell.

  “Wow,” the officer said. “I never talked to my dad like that.” He didn’t sound critical, though. He sounded almost admiring.

  “Neither did Henry.”

  They sat in silence for another long interval. Two minutes. Maybe three.

  “This is a little mouse of a kid,” August said, “who barely talks to anybody at all. For years he didn’t talk to anybody but his brother. Now he talks to his brother and me. When I ask him for his opinion, he goes silent on me. Says he doesn’t like to tell people what to do.”

  “Well, something woke up the lion in that mouse.”

  They looked up to see the young officer approach them.

  “He says he’ll withdraw the report.” It was the first time August had heard the young man’s voice. He sounded even younger than he looked. “But I think we have to sit here until he actually does.”

  “Correct,” the older cop said.

  His young partner went back to the car to wait by the radio.

  “See, now I hate that. That just pisses me off,” the cop said to August.

  It surprised him. The conversation he’d been having with the man had seemed so human.

  “That he’s pulling the report?”

  “More that he filed it in the first place. That’s just playing with the law. If he really thought his son was in any danger out here with you, he wouldn’t pull the report. So he never should have filed it. We take our jobs seriously. I don’t like it when people get us involved in their games.”

  “Yeah,” August said. “Unfortunately, that’s just the kind of guy he is.”

  They sat in silence, August watching the sun break over the horizon, shining into his eyes in a way that felt strangely comfortable.

  Then he said, “We actually have another big problem, but I’m thinking you can understand how the events of the last few minutes temporarily knocked it out of my head. His older brother, Seth, went off in search of a water pump yesterday morning. And he still isn’t back. I’m getting worried.”

  “Which way’d he go?”

  “East. There was a guy in a shop east of here who rented him some tools. But he sold him the wrong water pump. So he had to go back out to exchange it. Maybe he just couldn’t find the right one in stock or something. But I’m sure you understand why I’d be worried about him. Hitchhiking all alone out in the middle of nowhere, and then gone all night.”

  The cop sighed. “I wish people would just call the state police when they break down. It’s our job to help.”

  “Oh. We didn’t know you could that.”

  “Apparently nobody does. When we get this situation cleared up, we’ll go down there and see if we can’t find where he got off to. Was it Red’s Automotive? That’s the closest place east of here.”

  “I don’t know. He didn’t say. I saw the guy drop him off, but I didn’t get a real good look at him. He was driving a big old army-green pickup.”

  “Yeah, that sounds like Red. We’ll see what we can do.”

  They looked up to see the kid officer step out of the driver’s seat and shoot them a thumbs-up. He opened the back door of the car and invited Henry to step out. Henry stood a moment in the dawn chill, as though he could barely accept his freedom. As though he’d been imprisoned for years and had never seen the sun in all that time. Then he shook the look away and walked back to August.

  The older officer gave him a pat on the arm, and then both men packed it up and drove away, turning off those flashing red lights that August, amazingly, had forgotten were turning. They’d gotten to seem almost normal by that time.

  Henry stood beside him for a long, silent time, clearly in shock.

  Then August said, “You were amazing. You were so good.”

  A silence, then Henry broke into a sudden smile.

  “I was, wasn’t I?” he said.

  Half an hour later, just as they were finishing their first cup of coffee—still too jangled to eat—the patrol car came back. It pulled into the dirt on the other side of the highway, and Seth stepped out with a familiar box under his arm. He waved to the cops, who drove away.

  August pulled a huge breath and realized that every breath he’d taken since Seth disappeared had been a shallow and frightened one.

  Seth opened the driver’s-side door and stuck his head in.

  “Sorry, August. I know you must’ve been freaked out. I’ll tell you later why I couldn’t call. It’s kind of a long story. I just want to get this pump on and get back on the road. Oh,” he said, looking down, “you brought the tools inside. That was smart. Thanks.”

  He looked in at Henry, who was sitting on the couch, smiling in a swallowed-a-secret sort of way.

  “What’s with you?” Seth asked him. “What’s so damn funny?”

  “Sorry. I was just thinking it’s nice not to be the one who gets hauled back to the rig by the police this time.”

  Seth shook his head in mock disgust. He hoisted up the heavy chest and disappeared, slamming the door behind him.

  August eased himself into the passenger seat, then out the door, then reached in for one cane. He stood at the front of the engine compartment, leaning on it with one hand, bracing on his cane with the other. He watched Seth match the mating surfaces of the two pumps. Seth looked up and saw August watching and held up the mated pumps for him to see.

  “The bolt holes line up,” August said.

  “Finally. Something went right.” Seth began to lay out tools again. “I had the worst night, August. God. Whatever you were going through back here worrying about me, it couldn’t have been worse than this. I get back there, and they don’t have the pump I need in stock. They have to order it. So I knew right away I was stuck there till morning. The owner, that lousy thief, was gone. And he had my credit card. And the guy who was there, this other mechanic, he was either just a complete jerk, or
maybe all he knew was that his boss was a hardass and he’d have to answer to him later. I forgot my cell phone. And he wouldn’t let me use his phone. It’s an expensive call, because your cell number is California. And I didn’t have enough cash to use the pay phone. And I couldn’t get a room, because I didn’t have my credit card. The jerk wouldn’t even let me sleep in the shop. I guess he thought I might steal something. I had to sleep in an old car parked on their yard that wasn’t locked.

  “I’d like to choke that jackass who took my driver’s license and credit card and then just went home. What if I’d come by to bring the tools back? You know. All ready to get on the road? He just wouldn’t have bothered to be there. And he’s charging me a hundred dollars for that. God. Why is everything going so wrong all of a sudden?”

  “Not everything. You made it back okay. And you got the right part.”

  “Yeah, and those cops were nice. They picked me up hitchhiking. Nobody would give me a ride. It’s actually a misdemeanor to hitch a ride on this highway, but they let me off with a warning if I just promised to call the state police next time I break down. I didn’t know you could do that. Did you?”

  “Apparently nobody knows that. They didn’t tell you why they came by here? How they knew you were stranded out there?”

  “No. I thought they just happened to go by and see me.”

  “They came by to get Henry and take him into custody, because your dad reported him as a runaway.”

  Seth leapt to his feet, dropping one tool and accidentally kicking several others away.

  “They took Henry? Why didn’t you tell me? Where did they take him?”

  “Duh,” Henry called from inside the rig. “I’m right here. You were just shaking your head at me. Remember?”

  “Oh, that’s right,” Seth said, slumping against the bumper. “Jeez, I’m tired. I didn’t sleep much. I’m not thinking straight. What happened?”

  “He yelled at your dad and backed him right down.”

  “Aw, nice. See, I told you they were nice guys.”

  “No. Not the cops, Seth. Henry.”

  “Henry yelled at our dad?”