All That's Missing by Sarah Sullivan

us anything. We’re just happy to see you.”
    The man kept a steady eye on Arlo, as if he was trying to figure out why a white boy would be traveling with his mother.
    â€œYou didn’t tell me you’d be bringing a friend.”
    â€œThis is Ronald,” Bernice said. “We met at the bus station.” She gave Arlo a wink. “Didn’t we, Ronald?”
    Arlo nodded.
    â€œRonald is going to see his grandma in Edgewater. You think we could give him a ride?”
    Tyrone glanced sideways at his mother.
    â€œIt’s all right,” Bernice said. “He just needs a ride to her house. Isn’t that right, Ronald?”
    â€œThat’s right,” Arlo said. He looked at Tyrone and smiled.
    Tyrone did not smile back. “The car’s out front,” he said, giving Arlo a look that made it clear he had his doubts about Arlo’s story.
    â€œRonald needs to make a phone call first, though, don’t you, son?”
    â€œYes, ma’am,” Arlo said.
    â€œAnd he needs to borrow your phone.”
    Tyrone frowned. He put down Bernice’s bags and cocked his head toward Arlo.
    â€œMy battery ran out,” Arlo explained.
    Tyrone ran a hand back and forth across his chin, as if he were thinking hard before deciding what to do next. Finally, he reached into his pocket and handed Arlo his phone.
    â€œThank you,” Arlo said.
    â€œIt’s all right,” Tyrone said.
    Bernice patted Arlo on the shoulder. “You go on and call Information, now.”
    â€œInformation?” Tyrone put the bags down again. “You mean, he doesn’t have his grandmother’s number?”
    â€œRonald says he left the number at home.”
    â€œSorry,” Arlo said to Tyrone. He lifted one shoulder and let it drop.
    Tyrone shifted his weight from one foot to the other, leaning closer to Arlo. “Where’d you say you met my mother?”
    â€œAt the bus station.”
    â€œMmm-hmm.” Tyrone narrowed his eyes. “I reckon you’d better hurry up and make that call. Mama doesn’t do so well standing on her feet a long time.”
    Arlo looked at the keypad.
    â€œDial 411,” Bernice said.
    Arlo felt Tyrone watching as he punched in the numbers. An operator came on the line.
    â€œCity and state, please?”
    â€œEdgewater, Virginia,” Arlo said. That was the easy part.
    â€œWhat listing?” she asked.
    Here goes,
Arlo thought. Better not use a real name. Once Bernice and Tyrone dropped him off, Arlo didn’t want anyone to be able to trace him. Better think of a phony name. And better do it fast. Before Tyrone grew any more suspicious than he already was. John Smith was too obvious.
Oh, just say whatever name comes to mind,
Arlo thought.
Sam.
There you go. That was a good first name. Sam
what
?
Gretzky.
That was it. Sam Gretzky. It sounded real enough.
    â€œMrs. Sam Gretzky,” Arlo said into the phone. He had to fight to keep from laughing at the idea of Sam being related to Mrs. Gretzky.
    â€œOne moment, please.”
    â€œShe’s checking,” Arlo reported as Tyrone stood over him, tapping his foot.
    â€œThere’s an Arthur Gretzky on Beachcrest,” the operator said.
    â€œThat’s it,” Arlo said, smiling and nodding for Bernice and Tyrone’s benefit.
    Bernice nodded back at him. “If you hold on, they’ll connect you at no extra charge,” she said.
    â€œOK.” Arlo held the line. What’s the worst that could happen? Someone answers and he talks to them like it’s his grandmother at the other end. Tyrone and Bernice wouldn’t know the difference, not if Arlo kept the phone pressed tightly against his ear. And he happened to know that when Information made a connection for you, the number they called didn’t register on your phone. So Tyrone couldn’t hit REDIAL and check up on him.
    The phone rang about six times. Bernice was starting to look