Teen Ink

Beatrice

It had been six days since Dad left and I was beginning to get frantic. Matt and I had packed a days worth of food for the trip to Beatrice. We called our old friend Roberto Singer to watch the vineyard for us. He agreed. Once Roberto, or Bobby as we called him, arrived, we left. Once in Beatrice, it was like walking into a place with no exits. People were running around, selling stuff, buying stuff, talking to people; it was crowded and chaotic. Matt and I decided to split up. Matt went west and I went east. I had passed a few shops that sounded familiar from the stories Matt told me about. It was all so beautiful, the stones in the road looked like they had been put down yesterday. The shops were colorful and selling the most bizarre but intriguing items. The buildings looked centuries old and were fascinating.
As I walked along, a few people bumped into me and we talked, mainly me asking if they knew my dad, John. Most said no, but this one old man told me he saw him.
“Yes, I remember seeing John here, but not since, oh what was it, four days ago,” he said.
“Great. Where did you see him?” I asked.
“Down near the church. He was selling wine, and I was about to buy some before some rude person came in front of me. The man was big and strong, just like you, and he told John he needed to talk to him. John and the guy walked toward the church and I haven't seen him since.
“Thank you! You have no idea how much that helps me!”
I as I started to run off, the old man called to me, “Make sure you bring John back, I want my wine!”