Every Precious Thing

CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN

“Are you hungry?” Barney asked.

He and Harp had brought Pep back to the Desert Inn, and given him one of the beds in their room.

“I’m fine,” Pep said.

He carefully lifted his legs one at a time onto the mattress, then leaned against the headboard, his arm wrapped around his damaged ribs.

Barney grimaced. “I still can’t believe they let you go.”

“Don’t worry about it. They kept waking me up at the hospital. At least here I might be able to get some sleep.”

Though Barney didn’t want to admit it, it was a fair point.

“I could use some water,” Pep said.

“Let me,” Harp offered.

While he disappeared into the back sink area where they were storing the bottled water they’d bought, Barney picked up the TV remote from the nightstand and held it out to Pep.

“Feel free to watch whatever you want,” he said.

Pep smiled. “Thanks.”

As the TV came on, Harp reentered the room holding two bottles.

“This is all we have left,” he said. He gave one to Pep and tossed the other to Barney. “Why don’t I go over to that store across the street and get some more?”

Barney reached for his wallet. “You need some money?”

Waving him off, Harp said, “I got it.” As had become his habit anytime he left the room, he tucked the copy of Lost Horizon under his arm before opening the door.

“Oh,” Barney said as Harp stepped outside. “Get some Gatorade, too. That’ll be good for him.”

“Anything else?” Harp asked.

Barney and Pep shook their heads.

“Okay. I’ll be right back.”

As soon as the door closed, Barney stretched out on the other bed and made himself comfortable. On the TV, the images flew by as Pep flipped through the channels, searching for something to watch. He ended up stopping on Judge Judy.

“Really?” Barney asked.

Pep chuckled. “These people are all idiots. I love watching them make fools of themselves.”

It was definitely not the show Barney would have chosen, but Pep was the patient, and the patient got what he wanted. Barney leaned back and closed his eyes, figuring he’d catch a few minutes’ rest before Harp got back.

When he opened them again, he felt like his body was covered in molasses. It took extra effort to sit up. He always felt this way if he slept for more than fifteen minutes.

On the other bed, Pep was snoring, the remote moving up and down on his chest. A gunshot rang out from the TV, causing Barney to look over. Though the channel number was the same as before, Judge Judy was gone and a rerun of some cop show was playing.

He checked his watch, and thought perhaps it was broken. He glanced at the digital clock on the nightstand. It said the same thing-12:07 p.m. When Barney lay down, it had only been a little after eleven.

“Harp?” he said, holding his voice down so he wouldn’t wake Pep.

There was no answer.

He got to his feet and walked to the bathroom.

“Harp?”

No one was there.

Must have gone back out when he saw we were asleep.

But if that was the case, where was the water or the Gatorade?

Barney slipped on his shoes, grabbed his phone, and went outside. From the walkway he could see the store where Harp was headed, but Harp was nowhere in sight.

With growing anxiety, he called Harp’s phone.

Two rings, then voice mail.

“Hey, where are you?” Barney asked once the beep sounded. “Thought you were coming right back. Just…well…call me.”

Of course, he realized. What probably happened was, the mini-market didn’t have the Gatorade he’d asked for, so Harp must have taken it upon himself to find it elsewhere. That sounded just like him.

Barney slipped his phone into his pocket and turned to go back inside, but he paused before grabbing the knob.

Yes, it did make sense, but…better to check, right?

He went down the stairs, peeked into the motel office in case Harp was in there, then walked across the street and into the market.

The cashier was sitting on a stool behind the counter, reading a copy of Entertainment Weekly. Instead of bothering him, Barney did a quick search through the store.

Harp wasn’t there, and there was plenty of Gatorade in the refrigerated section.

“Excuse me,” he said to the clerk when he got back up front.

The guy looked up, startled, and jumped off his stool. “Sorry. Find everything you need?”

“Actually, I’m wondering if a man came in here about forty-five minutes ago and bought some water and Gatorade. He’d be about my age, an inch or two shorter than me, but with more hair.”

“No, not that I can remember.”

“You’re sure?”

The guy shrugged. “The only people in here during the last hour were a couple of my friends, and a woman with two kids. No older guy. And I haven’t sold any Gatorade all day.”

“Okay. Thank you.”

I must have gotten the store wrong, Barney thought as he went back outside.

He looked up and down the block. There was a gas station with a little store attached on the neighboring corner, and another about a block down. Barney tried both, but no one had seen Harp.

No longer just a little worried, he called the hospital, but no one had been admitted all morning. He then tried the police, who’d had no reports involving an elderly gentleman.

Hurrying back to their motel room, he hoped that somehow they’d crossed paths without realizing it, but when he opened the door, everything was the same as it had been when he left.

Harp, where are you?

He did the only other thing he could think of and called Logan, but like with the call to Harp, he was put through to voice mail.

“Logan, it’s Barney. Call me as soon as you get this. I don’t know, but I think something might have happened to your dad. I can’t find him. Call me. Please.”