Chapter 11

It was mid-December when they released him. He was already officially withdrawn from school. From the house, his mother brought some of his clothing. Archie was swimming in his pants and shirt after recovery and three months of skipping school lunches. He seemed oblivious, silent through the ride home. Jessie greeted him warmly, but noted his gaunt look and subdued mien. He picked at his favorite dinner and retired early to his bed.

A few days later, nothing much had changed at the Dawes’ home. Archie ate little and said even less. Mother and sister still received those minimal hugs with little other emotion being shown. He limped to the kitchen for dinners, spending most all of the day in his room. Bettie had picked up some work as a stocking clerk and cleaner. But money was excruciatingly tight.

One day she opened some mail and fainted. The children found her on the floor, clutching a statement from the County Medical Center. A horrifying total due was showing: over six hundred forty thousand dollars.

Archie nearly joined his mother on the floor. This was devastating news. Knowing nothing of the government and financial world, he thought his mother would lose their lease on their little home, her car, and all other assets. He assumed Jessie would be extracted and kept in some kind of workhouse or orphanage, since they had no other known relatives. The same for him but for his being nearly 18. He couldn’t handle it, returning to his bedroom. Jessie would take care of Mom, he hoped.

For a few hours, he lay despairing on his bed. After midnight, he gathered himself and began dressing in layers with his warmest clothing. His reduced physique allowed him to double his pants and shirts. His old jacket would have to do. He wore his waterproof boots over doubled socks. Last he retrieved the two little Christmas presents he had purchased in November, and a notebook.

At the kitchen table he began to write.

He tore the page from his notebook and used a teaspoon to weigh it down. With a last look, he slipped out into the cold morning air, heading south. By morning he was 12 miles away from town.

Jessie emerged from the bathroom and dressed herself then went towards the kitchen. In ten minutes Bruce and Cathie would arrive for their trip to school. Bettie was crying, again. She thought, “What now?” In Bettie’s hand was Archie’s note, already tear-stained. Jessie pulled the note away and began reading with growing despair.

Soon Cathie was at the kitchen door. Before her were Jessie and Bettie, sobbing in each other’s arms. Cathie ran for her father.

After reading the note Cathie joined in a three-way circle of misery. Bruce phoned Rose Fitzgerald: “You have to come to Bettie’s, right away! Archie’s gone missing!”

An hour later, Rose was herself teary and raging. “Everything in that note is wrong. Have none of you ever heard of bankruptcy! Debtor’s prisons were found unconstitutional in 1970. Minors can’t be taken from their parents for unpaid bills. You can even keep your elderly car. Your family won’t be prosecuted and you are legally ‘judgment proof.’ That means the cost of suing you far exceeds the possibility of collecting anything.”

From Bruce, “Didn’t Barbara Winslow say she could fix Jessie’s earlobe?”

Bettie spoke for the first time. “I think we’re all forgetting something important. My boy loves his little family. But he thinks his life is over. No future, no family, no love. He’s gone dead inside and he’s just waiting for his body to catch up.”

“And now he’s disappeared, and there’s no one to tell him any different. He’s without hope.” The room was now grim and silent.