Tunnel Vision

74

An hour later, Zack and Sarah were passing through Portsmouth, New Hampshire. The earlier heat of irritation had cooled, leaving him grateful that she was with him.

As they moved to the right-hand lane, Zack pointed out the submarine base in the distance where his father had brought him when he was maybe seven.

“What do you remember about him?”

“Not a lot. He wasn’t around much,” Zack said. “He was a project engineer and worked long hours. I saw him mostly on weekends. Then my parents separated after Jake’s death. Sometime after that, he dropped out of sight.”

“That must have been rough.”

“It was.”

“But you have some good memories of him.”

“Until I was about ten. After he left, I saw him on a few occasions, which were mostly me telling him about what I was up to, but little about himself. Funny thing, as I got older, I thought of myself as not having a father, just a mother.”

“That’s sad.”

“To compensate, I made up stories about him. He was something of a photographer, so I’d tell kids he was on assignment for National Geographic and was off covering animal migrations in Kenya. Or helping build a refugee camp in Biafra. I once claimed he took me to Hawaii, where he saved me from a shark attack. Pretty pathetic.”

“I guess that’s how you dealt with his absence.”

“And all along he was a Benedictine monk praying and making jellies for tourists.”

They crossed the Piscataqua Bridge. Although he had passed this way fifteen or more years ago, he felt nothing overt—just a vague sense that he was pursuing some kind of directive. Or maybe it was just dumb autosuggestion after all. And the very possibility made his heart slump.

“If he’s really still alive, what would you say to him?”

“I’d ask him why he left me and my mother.” And if God is in him and talking to me.

They soon passed a sign reading, “Welcome to Maine. The way life should be.”

“Now what?”

“We keep going.”

“Until?”

“Until I come to the right exit.”

“Do you know which one?”

“Not yet.”

Please give a sign, he whispered in his head. I believe. Please give a sign.