Flush - Carl Hiaasen [35]
It took every ounce of courage, but I had to ask: “Did you mean what you said to Grandma Janet about a divorce?”
Mom took a short breath and pressed her lips together. “You heard me on the phone that night? I’m so sorry, Noah—I was extremely upset….”
I could tell she wanted to give me one of those big smothering hugs, like she used to do when I was small. This time, though, all she did was reach over and touch my hand.
“Your father is a very unusual and intense personality,” she said, “as I’m sure you’ve noticed. I love him dearly, but sometimes he drives me bananas. More than sometimes, truthfully.”
“I know, Mom.”
“Look, I understand that he gets terribly upset by certain things he sees in this world—greed and injustice and cruelty to nature. That’s one of the things that first attracted me, seeing how deeply he cared. But he’s a grown man,” my mother said, “and he needs to start behaving like one. I don’t care to be married to a jailbird.”
“So you were serious,” I said.
“I’d never bluff about something like divorce. It wouldn’t be fair to you and Abbey.”
I didn’t need to tell Mom how worried we both were. She knew.
“Speaking of your sister,” she said, “I’d better peek in and see how she’s feeling.”
I said good night and turned out the light and pulled the covers up to my neck. I heard Mom open Abbey’s door and say her name. Abbey didn’t answer, so I figured she was already asleep.
But then Mom started calling out for my father in a voice that didn’t even sound like hers, it was so choked up. Dad came running down the hall from one direction, and I came running from the other.
When we entered Abbey’s room, my mother was standing there with tears in her eyes. Her knuckles were pale and pressed to her cheeks, and her shoulders trembled.
“She’s gone!” Mom cried. “Abbey’s gone!”
My sister’s bed was empty. The window was wide open, and the screen, which had been removed, was propped against the bedroom wall.
“Okay, everybody take it easy,” Dad urged. I could tell he was trying to calm himself, as much as me and my mother.
He tried to wrap his arms around Mom but she jerked away. “Somebody kidnapped her, Paine! Somebody broke in and took her!”
“No, Mom, nobody took her,” I said.
“How do you know? How?”
What could I say? Sometimes I sneak out my bedroom window late at night to go bridge fishing or crabbing with Thom and Rado. One time I got back and Abbey was hiding in my room, watching me as I climbed in through the window and put back the screen. She never ratted me out to my parents, but obviously she’d remembered the trick.
“A kidnapper wouldn’t bother to stack the screen against the wall,” I pointed out. “He’d just cut his way through with a knife.”
“Noah’s absolutely right,” Dad said. “This is way too neat and tidy. It’s pure Abbey.”
Mom wiped her eyes on my father’s sleeve. “So what you’re saying is, she ran away? Why in the world would she do that?”
“I don’t think Abbey ran away,” I said.
“Noah, get to the point.”
“She probably just had something she needed to do.”
“In the middle of the night? All by herself?” My mother turned to my father and froze him with one of her deadly laser-beam stares. “Paine, what’s going on here?”
“I’ll be right back,” Dad said, and rushed out of the room.
Mom spun back toward me and snatched me by the left ear.
“Young man?” she said.
She never called me “young man” unless she meant business.
“Yes, Mom?” I was almost sure that I knew where Abbey had gone. And I had a feeling that Dad had figured it out, too.
“Does this have something to do with the Coral Queen?” my mother asked.
“It’s possible,” I said weakly.
“Has this whole family gone completely insane?” She let go of my ear and called out: “Paine! You come back here right this second!”
Moments later Dad appeared at the bedroom door. He had put on a ball cap, a pair of khaki trousers, and his old deck shoes. In one hand was the portable spotlight that he kept stowed on