The Journey Home Read Online Free PDF Page A

these things existed in the world, but he couldn’t identify anything more specifically. It was as though he’d been plopped down in a foreign land with the kind of training that came from a book, but not a single bit of practical knowledge.
    The people around the table convinced him to stay for breakfast. He was thankful he did. Carmela’s baking was as accomplished as her cooking. However, he told them he had to get on the road home immediately thereafter. He mentioned that he was going to check to see if anyone had filed a missing person’s report yesterday. Though Joseph couldn’t even give his last name, he thought he’d at least get a clue from this. However, Ralph told him that he’d already called the police department that morning and Joseph had not been reported missing.
    Joseph sipped a second cup of coffee and listened to the others discussing their plans for the day. Then, thanking them profusely for their help and their hospitality, he left the house.
    It was only at that point that he fully acknowledged that he had no plan. It was possible that one of the cars on the street was his – he could have gotten this far, left the car, and then passed out; it was an explanation as good as any other – but he couldn’t say which. He didn’t have keys in his pocket, anyway, so even if he had a car, he wouldn’t be able to
drive it. Reaching into his pockets now, he confirmed that his wallet and phone were still gone. However, he pulled out a surprisingly large wad of cash. Had he made a huge withdrawal from the bank before his episode? If that were the case, why wouldn’t whoever took his other things have taken the money as well? If he’d been mugged, the mugger wasn’t particularly good at his job. This story just kept getting stranger and more elusive.
    Joseph counted out the cash, a significant sum, and then glanced up and down the road. What was the next move here? Was there a bus or train station nearby? What would he say to the person selling him the ticket? “Home, please?” Putting the money in his pocket, he stood stock-still, unsure where even his first step should take him.
    â€œYou look a little lost.”
    Joseph turned toward the voice to his right. A teenaged boy was standing perhaps ten feet away, hands in his pockets. He was lanky, close to six feet, with a mess of black hair coming at his face from a variety of angles. His eyes were a radiant blue.
    â€œWhy do you say that?” Joseph said.
    â€œPeople don’t usually just stand here on the street. Most people have somewhere to go. Since you didn’t, I guessed you were lost.”
    There was a bit of wryness in the boy’s tone, but it didn’t seem sarcastic. Amused, perhaps, but not sarcastic.
    â€œI think it’s fair to say that I’m lost. Let me put it this way: I’m so lost that I don’t even know if I’m lost.”

    â€œThat doesn’t sound good. Where are you trying to go?”
    â€œThere’s the first problem right there.”
    The kid looked down at the pavement and then back up at Joseph, wearing an expression that said that Joseph had just told him one of the most ridiculous things he’d ever heard. “I’d say you were very lost.”
    Joseph slumped. “Yeah, me too.”
    The kid shook his head compassionately, which Joseph’s guidebook training told him was somewhat unusual for a teen. Feeling surprisingly comfortable with yet another new stranger, Joseph told the boy about everything that had happened in the past day, including the certainty he felt about his wife being out there somewhere, waiting for him, worrying about him. Simply saying these things aloud made the feelings stronger for Joseph. The pull he felt in the back of his head intensified as he spoke.
    The boy cast him a sidelong glance. “But you have no idea where you live.”
    â€œNone.”
    â€œYou know you have to