Edward Adrift

covered himself in blankets. When I was at the gas station in Boise and lookedin, I thought the blankets appeared to be a little askew (I love the word “askew”), but I also thought maybe that was just because they had shifted in transit. I will have to begin investigating my observations more rigorously. If I’d found Kyle at the Boise gas station, I wouldn’t have lost much time at all today.
    Kyle tells me that he had a hard time staying quiet for almost two hours, especially when I was singing along with Michael Stipe.
    “Your voice sucks, dude,” he says.
    This hurts my feelings because I did not realize I had an audience and might not have sung at all if I’d known he was listening.
    He says he wanted to make sure we were a ways down the road before he revealed himself.
    I tell him that it was wrong and mean to reveal himself the way he did and that we’re lucky we didn’t crash. I want to tell him that I also think he’s ingenious, but I suspect that would only encourage more bad behavior, so I remain silent on that point.
    Thirteen minutes and seven seconds after Donna and I hung up, the bitchin’ iPhone tells me that she’s calling, and I answer it.
    “Edward, I’m going to tell you the truth. We don’t know what to do. We’ve never seen this kind of behavior out of Kyle, and we’re really at a loss here. He says he wants to stay with you for a few days. How do you feel about that?”
    I look at Kyle, and he’s looking back at me hopefully.
    “I don’t know,” I say.
    “That’s our answer, too. It seems like to give him what he wants, after he’s behaved so badly, is the wrong thing to do. But Victor and I also talked about how maybe he’ll talk to you about things he’s scared to tell us, and we need that to happen, somehow. Does that make sense?”
    It makes sense.
    “Yes,” I say.
    “How long do you plan to be in Colorado?”
    I tell Donna that if I get to Cheyenne Wells tomorrow evening, as planned, I’ll stay two nights and then head home. I also tell her that I don’t have time in my schedule to go back to Boise on the way home to Billings. She says that’s OK and that she and Victor will meet me in Wyoming to retrieve Kyle.
    “Will you do this, Edward? I know it’s a lot to ask. We clearly can’t control him, so maybe it’s just silly to think that he’ll be tamer for you. We’re operating on a gut feeling here. He trusts you, or at least he used to. Maybe he’ll let you in. It’s worth a shot.”
    I agree. It’s worth a shot. I feel happiness and fear. I’m happy that I’m being allowed to help solve an adult problem; it’s the kind of thing I’m not often trusted to do. I’m fearful that Kyle will keep being mean to me and will make my trip to Cheyenne Wells, Colorado, frustrating and maybe even dangerous. While I am sympathetic to Kyle’s problems, I have my own struggles, and I’m hopeful—despite all the limitations of hope—that I will find some answers. I don’t want Kyle to mess that up.
    “I will take Kyle with me,” I say, and Kyle makes a fist pump.
    “Thank you,” Donna says. “And, Edward, I want you to know—if he gives you trouble you can’t handle, you call us. We will come get him, wherever you are. Impose whatever restrictions on him you feel are necessary. You’re in charge of him. Don’t let him manipulate you.”
    I think that’s good advice. I also think it’s ironic—the real kind of ironic, not the Alanis Morissette kind. Kyle has been manipulating all of us. That has to end. I decide that I’m not driving another mile with him until I’ve set some rules.
    “Reach into the backseat and hand me my notebook,” I tell Kyle, who obliges.
    It makes me feel good that he obeys my first order.

    RULES FOR KYLE ON OUR TRIP TO CHEYENNE WELLS, COLORADO
    Kyle is not to do anything that compromises my safe operation of the Cadillac DTS. This includes but is not limited to making loud, scary noises; attempting to cause me to look away from the road, intentionally or unintentionally; grabbing the steering wheel or manipulating any of the car’s propulsive (I love the word “propulsive”) machinery; being in any shape or form a bad kid. “Bad kid” is subject to my definition.
Kyle cannot call me names.
Kyle will follow my instructions when I give them. This has to be an absolute rule, because I cannot anticipate every situation that will emerge.
Kyle must stay with me at all times.
Kyle cannot curse anymore. Each time he