The Little Boy Who Drew “Come Home, Dad”

For several seconds, Cole couldn't hear anything except the steady pounding of his own heart.

Malik sat on the bench with his drawing spread across his knees. Elena stood beside him, one hand covering her mouth, while the bright afternoon sun reflected off the chrome of Cole's motorcycle.

Cole looked at the boy.

“Malik, who told you Darren was the last person who saw your daddy alive?””

Malik glanced at his mother.

“She did.””

Elena closed her eyes.

Cole turned toward her.

“You told him that?””

“I told him Darren brought me the news about you.”” Elena's voice cracked.

“I never told him Darren had anything to do with what happened.””

“But you suspected something.””

She didn't answer.

Cole stepped away from the bench and dragged a hand over his face.

“Eight years, Elena. You let me spend eight years believing you walked away because you didn't want me anymore.””

“I believed you were dead!””

“And when you found out I wasn't?””

Elena's eyes filled again.

Cole leaned forward, his voice rising.

“When did you find out?””

“Three years ago.””

The answer hit him harder than he expected.

Three years.

A thousand mornings. A thousand nights. Three birthdays Malik had celebrated without knowing his father was alive.

Cole stared at her.

“You knew I was alive for three years?””

“No. I heard a rumor three years ago. That's different.””

“What rumor?””

Elena looked toward the road, where Darren's truck had disappeared.

“Darren told me he'd seen a man who looked like you at a motorcycle rally in Georgia. He said it could have been somebody else. He told me not to get my hopes up.””

“And you believed him?””

“I wanted to.””

Cole laughed bitterly.

“That's convenient.””

“Don't do that.””

“Do what?””

“Make me the villain because it's easier than hearing what I'm telling you.””

Her voice was sharp enough to make Malik flinch.

Elena immediately lowered it.

“I'm sorry, baby.””

Malik folded his drawing in half.

“Are you two going to fight?””

Cole looked at the boy and felt ashamed.

“No,” he said.

“We're not going to fight.””

Malik studied his face.

“Promise?””

Cole hesitated, then nodded.

“I promise we won't fight in front of you.””

It wasn't the same as promising everything would be okay.

He couldn't make that promise yet.

Elena pulled a chair away from the outdoor table and sat down. She looked exhausted, as though keeping the truth inside her had taken more strength than she had left.

“After Darren told me you were dead, I stopped eating. I barely slept. I kept calling your friends, but nobody would tell me anything I could verify.””

“Which friends?””

“Marcus. Leon. A few other men from your riding club.””

Cole's expression changed.

“Marcus told you I was dead?””

“He said the police had handled everything.””

Cole shook his head slowly.

“Marcus was riding with me that week. He knew I was alive.””

Elena stared at him.

“What?””

“He was the last person I saw before I came back to find you gone.””

The revelation seemed to drain what little color remained in her face.

“Then why would he—”

“I don't know.””

Cole paced toward his motorcycle, then stopped beside the fuel tank. Malik's drawing still covered part of the chrome.

The words COME HOME, DAD seemed almost unbearable now.

He touched the edge of the paper.

“Did you ever see a police report?””

Elena shook her head.

“No. Darren said the accident happened in another county and the paperwork would take time. Then he said your friends had handled the arrangements.””

“Arrangements for what?””

“A memorial. A funeral.””

Cole turned.

“You attended my funeral?””

“There was no body. It was a memorial service at a church outside Knoxville. Darren said your family didn't want questions.””

“My mother would've burned that church down if she thought I was dead and nobody had called her.””

Elena's eyes widened.

“Your mother?””

“She lives in Ohio. You knew that.””

“I called the number I had for her. A woman answered and told me she wasn't available.””

Cole went completely still.

“What woman?””

“I don't know. She said she was helping your family through a difficult time.””

Cole stared at Elena, trying to fit the pieces together.

His mother had never changed her number. She still lived in the same house where he'd grown up. He spoke to her every Sunday, even when he had nothing to say.

But eight years ago, when Elena disappeared, he had been so consumed by his own grief that he'd barely mentioned Elena to anyone.

He'd assumed she'd moved on.

He'd never told his mother the whole story.

And he certainly hadn't asked whether anyone had called her pretending he was dead.

Cole took out his phone.

Elena stood quickly.

“Who are you calling?””

“My mother.””

He pressed the contact.

The phone rang twice.

“Cole?”” His mother's familiar voice came through the speaker.

“Baby, is everything all right?””

“Ma, I need you to answer something for me.””

Her tone changed immediately.

“What's happened?””

“Eight years ago, did a woman call you and tell you I was dead?””

Silence.

Cole straightened.

“Ma?””

“Oh, Lord.””

His stomach dropped.

“You remember?””

“Of course I remember. Some woman called and said there'd been an accident. She said you were gone.””

Cole gripped the phone.

“What did you do?””

“I called you. You answered. You were at a gas station somewhere in Tennessee, complaining about a sandwich that tasted like cardboard.””

A stunned laugh escaped Cole.

He remembered that call.

His mother had spent ten minutes scolding him about eating properly.

She had never mentioned a strange woman calling to report his death.

“Why didn't you tell me?””

“Because I thought it was some sick prank. I called the number back, and a man answered. He said he'd made a mistake, that the information was meant for somebody else.””

Cole's blood chilled.

“Did he give you his name?””

“No. But I wrote the number down.””

“Do you still have it?””

“I keep everything, baby. Your grandmother used to say a piece of paper can save your life if you know when to look at it.””

Cole shut his eyes.

“Ma, can you find it?””

“I'll look tonight. But tell me why you're asking.””

He glanced at Elena.

“Because somebody used that lie to destroy my life.””

His mother inhaled sharply.

“Cole, what are you talking about?””

He didn't answer.

A shadow fell across the table.

Cole looked up.

One of the older bikers, Raymond, had approached them. He had ridden with Cole for nearly fifteen years, and his usual easygoing expression had vanished.

“Brother,” Raymond said quietly.

“I need to talk to you.””

“Not now, Ray.””

“It's about Marcus.””

Cole lowered the phone.

“What about him?””

Raymond glanced at Elena and Malik.

Then he looked directly at Cole.

“Marcus wasn't the only one who knew about that supposed accident.””

Cole felt his pulse quicken.

“Who else knew?””

Raymond swallowed.