Ryan Ruiz: The Black Cadillac

While Frankie and Seth argued who the greatest home run hitter of all time was, Cody just quietly ate his packed lunch and didn’t say anything. Zach joined in on the conversation but knew deep down that his friend was very distraught. Zach stared at Cody, trying to get him to say anything. Cody didn’t say a word.

As the boys had come to the conclusion that Ken Griffey Jr. was the best pure hitter in baseball today, Cody took one last bite of his barely eaten peanut-butter-and-jelly sandwich that had been smashed in the bottom of his lunch. A little after, the bell rang for seventh period. The headache was fading.

By the time 3:00 p.m. rolled around, Cody was more than ready to get home. He quickly hurried out of his last class and down the main hallway to beat the rush that was pouring out of each classroom. He met up with Zach and decided to take a different way home. It was a much longer way home, but at least, he would be able to walk with his friend.

Cody worried that the black car would be waiting for him at the moment he turned onto his street. There was no way he was going back home the same way he came to school.

Zach lived just a block from school on the other side of Jefferson Street. It didn’t take them long to get to Zach’s house. The walk was short, and Cody finally began to speak just as they arrived at Zach’s house.

“I’m not going to the police with this, Zach,” said Cody.

“Why not?” questioned Zach.

“I just don’t want to. They probably won’t believe me and won’t do anything anyways,” replied Cody.

“I don’t know man, do you really think that’s the smartest idea?” asked Zach.

“For right now, yes. What good are the police anyways? They couldn’t solve the missing girl case from five years ago. I’m not going to the police with this, Zach,” said Cody.

“You’re probably right, buddy. Besides, you don’t have a license plate or any details of the car or the person either, right?” asked Zach.

“No, not really. It all happened so fast,” said Cody even though he thought about the details all day long.

“That’s your decision, dude. Let me know if I can help you at all, okay?”

“I will. Thanks, Zach. Thanks for supporting me on this and not telling anyone,” replied Cody.

“You’re welcome, buddy,” replied Zach.

Zach walked up to the mailbox, grabbed the mail, and hollered to Cody, “I’ll call you later on tonight after I finish my homework. We will talk more about this.”

After dropping Zach off, Cody walked up his friend’s street, needing to make a right at Thomas Avenue and walk seven blocks to his street, Bunting Road. The walk would probably take a total time of twenty-five minutes. With counting his walk in the morning, Cody had made a complete rectangle by the end of the day. The rest of the walk was on Thomas Avenue, which was a busy street and had multiple kids walking home from school. It made Cody feel safer that he was on a busy street.

Finally arriving home, he found the babysitter waiting at the screen door.

“You’re late! What took you so long to get home?” the babysitter screamed.

She was an overweight woman in her sixties named Phyllis. Cody and his sister nicknamed her Fil for short and didn’t like her very much. She was just flat-out miserable with life in general and had fake teeth that she would pop in and out of her mouth. She was somewhat disgusting.

Phyllis never liked the boyish nickname or the two kids very much. She seemed to care only about watching her stupid afternoon soap opera shows and eating junk food. As far as actually watching the two kids, that was rare to see. She was the best sitter his single mother could find at the time. Cody and his sister would blow right through babysitters left and right. Things were hard, not having a dad around for the two of them. Both kids were a handful of work in the past.

Racing upstairs to his bedroom, Cody shut his door, plopped his book bag on his desk, and launched himself into his still-messy but comfortable bed. Just as he was drifting off to sleep, there was a knock on the door shortly after. He knew right away who it was. It was his younger sister, Olive. Every day after school, she would knock on his door to hang out with her big brother. The two of them had a typical sibling relationship.

Cody sprang out of his bed, opened the door, and let Olive in.

She was a very cute little girl with long brown hair down to her shoulders. She wore round glasses and was already wearing her pajamas and holding a dolly that dangled from her little fingers. Olive was in second grade and was always home way before Cody.

“Whatcha doing?” she asked in her tiny voice.

“Not much. How was school?” replied Cody.

Cody was always very fond of his sister and felt that it was his duty to protect her from everything. She was young and innocent.

“You didn’t even come and say hi to me?” she cried, ignoring her brother’s question.

Since their dad had left them when Olive was only a year old, it was always just the three of them. The kids never saw their dad, and once in a while, a card would come in the mail for them. Their mom did remarry, but she eventually divorced the kids’ only stepfather.

Cody and Olive had a tight bond since the day she was born. Cody had a picture in his room of him holding Olive as a baby in the hospital when he was just four years old.

“I’m sorry, Olive. I just had a rough day at school and wanted to take a short nap,” he said.

“It’s okay. Maybe we could play a game after dinner tonight?” she asked excitedly.

“Sure, Olive,” he replied and shut the bedroom door as she pranced out of the room. Olive had no way of knowing what Cody had been through today.

Cody started walking back toward the bed, but he suddenly looked over at his wall with drawings pinned up all over on a bulletin board. He loved to draw and was very talented. He wanted to draw cartoons for Walt Disney when he grew up. Cody glanced at each drawing, stepping closer and closer to each sketch on the wall. He started thinking about things while he gazed at his artwork. He was no longer tired and was suddenly motivated to do something.

Quickly he walked over to his desk and pulled out his sketch pad. At first, his pencil stood lifelessly on the top page of the pad. He knew what he wanted to do, but the signal from his brain to his hand was not functioning. His pencil started moving. Cody started writing thoughts down of everything he could remember from the past ten hours ago. The answers to questions like What did the headlights look like? Was it an Ohio license plate? What hair color did the man have?

These answers came flowing onto the page. Soon, the whole page was filled with thoughts and answers to every question he could conjure. He had turned his sketch pad into one big page of notes about the car and the man. Cody didn’t realize it, but almost two hours went by as he was thinking and writing.

Finishing one last thought, he heard the squeak of the front door opening. His mom was home, and a sudden sense of security overtook him. He dropped his pencil on the sketch pad and marched downstairs.

It was a little past six thirty in the evening, and his mother looked exhausted more than usual. Olive rushed up to her and hugged her.

“I missed you, Mommy!” the little girl said.

“I missed both of you!” Georgiana said back.

Seeing how tired his mom looked, Cody offered to help make dinner. It was rare that Cody offered to help her out, but he could see that his mother was wiped out.

“I’ll help make Olive and I some fish sticks. I’ll make you a nice salad if you want, Mama?” he said.

“Oh, sweetie, that’s very thoughtful of you, but I’m just going to make a pot of tea, relax, and put my feet up,” his mother explained.