Have You Seen This Boy?

I get a phone call at 4:31 p.m.

I am still at work. It is M., my brother's girlfriend. I like my brother's girlfriend. I answer the phone.

"Hey, have you talked to John today?" John and I talk about once a month on the phone and I do not have a job that is conducive to phone calls. Cell phones are not allowed to be seen, nor heard in schools. "Um, no?" And mind jumps to things. Did they break up? Cause really my family doesn't want that to happen. My father loves M. Perhaps likes her more than his son.

"Oh, I thought you talked to him pretty frequently."

"No. Why?"

"He's missing."

Missing? What kind of missing? He was supposed to show up at work. His colleague, the other J. has called wondering where he is. M. has been in court all day but left him, perfectly intact, this morning.

Now the Crabbypants . . . we always show up at work. I've shown up at work even when I shouldn't have . . . one time when I was still bleeding profusely from my nose at random intervals. And should we not show up, we always call. We were taught to call even if we were going to be a minute late. For anything. And anything less is impolite. I'd call my friends if I'm was going to be late for meeting them at "book club". Until I figured out that was annoying and the whole world didn't think that was normal. I mean it's normal if you're going to be 20 minutes late . . . but not three minutes. And I have called and said, "I'm going to be about three minutes late." That has come out of my mouth. We are punctual, we Crabbypants.

So he didn't show up for work and he is not answering his phone. J. not answering his phone is not all that unusual. He often breaks it. He has lost two phones to cats flicking them into the toilet. At least one has gone into the ocean. And sometimes, often time, he simply does not answer when I call . . . because he is working. So not answering the phone and not at work is unusual.

So I have the "he has had a brain aneurysm and fallen but cannot get up" vision. Hit is head on the damn toilet and his seven damn cats do not have opposable thumbs and don't know what to do. He went kayaking and is now washed out to sea. He took the deposit from one store to the bank . . . and he is sooo not good with thieves. He will tell them "no". Very firmly, in fact. Has done it before. And I can't do anything . . . he is 24 hours away by car. I can't drive over and check.

M. has called all his friends. She has called all the hospitals. She has called him repeatedly. When I get home, I check my IM. He is on but idle . . . but it is always this way. I send a message. I do not get an answer. I call M. back at 6:15 to see if there is a blood trail across the living room. She is still driving home but is totally worked up. Again, it is very unusual for J. to miss work. If he is not home, I advise her to call the police. And then I stand around my house. Call E. to chat about my missing brother in Miami. Think about when I should call my parents.

Turns out he was home. In the living room. The small zoo of pets jumping from here to there. Didn't see the computer . . . as it is in a whole other room. His phone didn't ring. I ask to speak to him . . . to give him the big sister speech. "What? My phone didn't ring. And no one should worry if I haven't been gone for 24 hours." I let him go . . . I have had voice verification. And M. is furiously yelling in the background. "SIX HOURS!"

He calls back a little later and thanks me for worrying. I didn't tell him my thoughts about what a pain in the ass it would be if he were dead. He is my beneficiary on everything . . . and I'm just not organized enough to track everything down and change that. So he can't go missing anymore.