Week 31: Salvation in a Gas Station Rest Room

What a smart son I have. So clever and still alive.

We had just reached the on ramp to I-26 and I couldn’t decide if we should go east or west. We stopped at a gas station so I could think it over (and so we could eat some lunch).

I had to use the bathroom so I headed for the men’s room and opened the door. I about pissed myself standing right there in the doorway. Scribbled on the wall was not one, but three messages from Matthew. I’ll transcribe each one below.

Message one: Dad, I’m fine. Heading east on I-26 back south to I-95.

Message two: Pops, I have some help. Heading west on I-26 up north to I-20.

Message three: Father, I love you. Avoiding I-26 and heading east on Hwy. 172 to North Air Force Field.

I took the mouthpiece hanging around my neck and kissed it. You see, A few years ago Matthew started calling me Pops. I was going on about how old I was getting and he started calling me that as a joke. Then it just kind of stuck. So I know message two is the correct direction, but Mike would not.

Anyway, this is great. I have a direction. I have confirmation that Matthew is okay. And who the hell is helping him. He said he had help. Maybe it isn’t a person; maybe he just means he has a gun or something. Not sure why he is heading to I-20. But I’m on the right track. Thank God I’m on the right track.

And I am also a little hysterical right now so I am going to end this entry here.