#fault

After talking to Stan on the swings Ford walks straight home and, for once in his life, voluntarily goes to bed early. Tomorrow is the most important day of his life and he must be well rested in order to impress West Coast Tech representatives. In his dreams he’s so excited to accept a Nobel Prize and Guinness World Record Award for most PhD simultaneously, Ford sleeps through his alarm clock and has to rush around the house in a blind panic but he makes to the gym on time, looking perfectly presentable in his best shirt and his favourite bow tie. He channels every piece of advice Stan has given him on talking to people and showmanship and the judges are so impressed they actually applaud his presentation! Oh, Tesla, it isn’t just the most important day of his life, it’s the best day of Ford’s life too!

I can’t wait to tell Stan and celebrate!

Ford almost skips all the way home, his cheeks pink with excitement and an envelope from WCT people cradled against his chest. He practically flies up the stairs and skids to a stop in front of the couch. An empty couch. Huh. Stan must be in their room, reading comics! But his bed is empty too, he’s not in the bathroom, or the kitchen, or the pawnshop. And as his Ma smothers him in a hug, and covers his squirming face in red kisses, and my little genius and I’m so proud and I knew you’d knock ’em dead, baby, she tells him that Stan never came home last night, must be with his girlfriend, oh young love, I remember what it was like…

Except Carla left him for that hippie a few months ago, so that can’t be it, but they were talking on the beach last night, Stan must have gone to work on the Stan’O’War, and just fell asleep there. Yes, he’d spent the night on the boat before, that’s not so unusual, there’s nothing to worry about! But as Ford runs to the beach his giddy smile slips from his face. There’s the Stanleymobile, right where they left her yesterday.

"Stanley?", I hope he didn’t sleep in the car, don’t want him to get back pain before he’s sixty. But the car is empty and his jacket is still in the back seat. With a worried frown Ford turns and runs to the boat. "Stan!"

With every call into an empty place where Stan should be, but isn’t, Ford’s heart beats faster and his voice grows more frantic. But there is no answer from the little boat or the pier, or waves.

He must be waiting for me on the swings! Oh, I should’ve gone straight there… But that’s great! We’ll celebrate and then talk about the future, see what Stan wants to do after we gradu…

Ford stops, as if all the blood froze in his veins. The fresh salty air grows heavy and the crushing of the waves is replaces by the buzzing in his ears, as the scene in front of him goes blurry.

Stan?

The sand by swings is disturbed as if from a fight. The right seat is broken, its two halves shifting slightly in the breeze. There’s splotches of something dark on the worn splintered wood. Ford finally finds his voice:

"Stan!"

There’s no Stan.