The Movement

Chapter Two - Part 6

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“Daddy!” shouted Troy as he burst in from the front door.

He stopped amid the unusual silence.

“Daddy? Oh, I guess you’re not home yet,” he groused in a lonely, disappointed tone.

Troy draped his book bag over the back of a chair and headed into the kitchen to look for something to snack on while he completed his usual large dose of homework and studies.

Several hours later, Troy realized his father had still not returned from work. Concerned, Troy picked up the phone and called his grandmother’s house in Sacramento.

“Hello?” inquired an old, cracked voice.

“Hi grandma!” shouted Troy excitedly. “Is my mom with you?”

“Your mother? I haven’t spoke with her for a few days now, she isn’t at home with you?” she asked confusingly.

“She left early this morning. She told me she was going to your house for a few days to help you out with some things,” he said.

“She did? She never mentioned that to me!” she replied.

“Well…where is she?” asked Troy.

“Well I don’t know. I haven’t spoken with her at all. Perhaps she was planning to surprise me. Maybe she broke down or something on her way over,” she pondered.

“Yeah, maybe. I hope she’s alright. Could you have her call me when she gets there?” inquired Troy.

“I’ll have her call you as soon she arrives, you poor thing. Is your father not home yet?” she asked.

“No, I think he’s working today. I don’t know when he’ll be home,” he replied.

“Okay, honey, I’ll have her call when she gets here. I’ll call you later if she still isn’t here by then,” she promised.

“Okay, thanks grandma. Love you,” said Troy.

“Love you too kiddo, take care,” she said before hanging up the phone.

Troy’s stomach began to twist. His mind raced through the entire day’s events in what seemed more like weeks than a single day.

Where did my mom go? Troy thought to himself as he paced from back and forth in the living room. Was she really going to grandma’s house? Did she get into a car accident?

He sat down on the couch behind him and began to cry until his tears exhausted him and he fell asleep.

BANG! BANG! BANG!

Loud knocks on the front door awakened Troy quickly. Startled, he rose to his feet and looked through the peephole on the front door. Two policemen stood together outside his house. Fear took over Troy’s body and mind. He froze.

“Why are policemen at my house at...What time is it…At four in the morning!?” he screamed aloud.

Despite the shock, Troy felt he had no other choice than to open the door for the two policemen. Opening the door slowly, Troy peered from the behind the opened door.

“Hello son,” stated the taller police officer sternly. “Is your mother home?”

Troy looked up at the tall policeman, scared out of his wits, unresponsive to his question.

“Son, is your mother home?” repeated the policeman.

Finally, Troy snapped back into focus.

“No, sir. No she’s not home officer. She went to my grandma’s house in Sacramento this morning…well, yesterday,” he answered.

The taller policeman stared down at Troy, as if he was waiting for more words.

“Son, are you Troy Duckworth?” asked the policeman.

“Yes, that is me,” responded Troy with pride.

“Troy, I’m afraid…” he cleared his throat. “I’m afraid your father…”

“You need to come with us for the night, Troy,” interrupted the shorter police officer as he stepped in front of the taller officer, cutting him off.

“I…I need to come with you guys? Where? For how long?” asked Troy worriedly.

“Just until morning, at the Police Station. You’ll be fine. We’ll have a nice big hot breakfast for you in the morning,” convinced the short officer.

Troy took a step forward, seemingly giving in to the officer’s advice.

“Okay. Did you say something about my father? Do you know where he is?” concerned Troy.

The shorter policeman looked over at the taller policeman while he delivered his best politically correct response to Troy’s question, afraid to devastate the young boy with the heartbreaking news of his father’s death.

“We’ll explain that in the morning, too—when you’re mother is with you,” postponed the short officer.

Troy nodded, understanding that something wasn’t right with his father. He knew. He was smarter than other kids his age and what his elders gave him credit for. He knew police officers don’t normally show up at somebody’s door in the middle of the night and take them to the police station when everything was right—something was wrong with his father.

But what? he wondered.

Troy had no idea, but hoped it was because he was only arrested or detained. The endless possibilities shuffled through Troy’s mind during the ride to the police station. He sat in the back of the car, thinking silently. Despite the large, warm, comfy bed at the police station, Troy could not sleep. His mind was too confused, too concerned, too busy for sleep. He rested in the bed with his eyes closed and appeared asleep, but his mind was more active than ever. He lied there for what seemed an eternity before his thoughts were interrupted by the smell of greasy bacon and sausage gravy.

Troy sat up before an unfamiliar policewoman said a word.

“Yum, that smells good!” he exclaimed.

The young policewoman smiled.

“I thought you were asleep! Here you are, I’ll bring you a chocolate milk and orange juice in a minute. Enjoy!” she said before she raced off to retrieve the rest of his breakfast.

Troy did not mind not having a drink. He completely forgot how hungry he was until the smell of food interrupted his train of thoughts, but he didn’t seem to mind this pleasant interruption.

The policewoman returned with the two drinks.

“Somebody sure was hungry!” she joked.

Troy guzzled down the drinks and finished off his breakfast. He hadn’t been so stuffed with food in weeks!

Breathing heavily from the feast, Troy sat back down, exhausted. His fatigue had caught up with him. His eyelids felt like two irreversible sliding doors closing down over his eyes. He did not fight it, allowing his tiredness to take over. Forgetting he was at the police station and that he hadn’t seen his mother and father in over a day, he quickly fell asleep.