The case of the disappearing parents
Back in the 1990s, just before mobile phones came in my parents came to stay a couple of weeks over Christmas in Canberra. My father had lost his top teeth playing field hockey and wears a denture as a result. He wanted a new plate fitted. I scouted out a dental technician, the only problem was that the technician was in the central business district and I was living and working in the Woden Valley about 9km away.

I didn't have much leave from work, so I had to go to work on the Friday after they arrived. The plan was they would both go in on the bus about 1pm, Dad would visit the technician and Mum would do some shopping in the Canberra Centre, a large shopping mall on three levels. They would meet at the bus stop, maybe go for a cuppa then phone me.

I photocopied the street map for where I live, marked the house and where I worked and on the other side the street map of the CBD with the bus station and the technician's street marked. I wrote in my phone number at work and at home and made two copies. Over breakfast I gave them the copies, showed them both sides and emphasised that I would stay at work and when they rang, I would drive into the CBD to pick them up.

I said "Don't ring me at home, ring me at work, because as sure as fate if I go home you will call while I'm between home and work and things will fall in a heap. I will stay at my desk until I hear from you. Don't ring me at home."

So I swanned off to work, thinking that's sorted and expected to hear from them about 3:30 - 4 that afternoon. I reckoned without my father's ability to ignore most of what I said.

Four pm, no call. That didn't worry me so much, perhaps the technician was busy.

Five pm. Still no call. By that time I was becoming mildly concerned. I asked one of the blokes who was working overtime to make sure he picked up my phone if it rang and went downstairs to ask the security guard if anyone was asking for me. No.

By six pm I was damn near frantic with worry. What the hell had happened? So I rang the Woden police station, gave them the story and asked what I should do. They said stay where I was and wait. Ten minutes later the phone rang. My mother had just walked into the Woden police station. She could not find my father and had taken a taxi back to Woden, but the bloody taxi driver could not find my house. So she asked to go to the police station.

I went and picked her up and we went home. The police put out a warning to their cars and to taxi and bus drivers to look for Dad.

I asked the neighbours if they had seen Dad. No. I'd just got back when a taxi pulled up with Dad in it. When he got in the driver had asked him if he was Redemption's father. "Everyone's looking for you". By that time it was nearly eight pm.

So what had happened? They'd agreed to meet at a particular seat at the bus station. But the technician was quick, and when Dad got to the seat, Mum was not there. So instead of sitting down and waiting, he went into a large shopping mall filled with pre-Christmas shoppers to look for her. Naturally he didn't find her after 45 minutes. So he had her paged.

But she was sitting on the seat at the bus stop by that time, waiting for him. So does he decide she's there by now? No, he decided she had gone to the Woden Plaza, another shopping mall 9 kilometres away and got on the bus to the Woden bus depot. Not the express bus, one that strolled in a leisurely manner through the suburbs. Then he searched the Woden Plaza. I don't really recall the rest of his wanderings, but he did phone me about 5:30pm. At home, when he had been specifically asked to phone me at work. So what did he decide then? I'd gone off to the pub and forgotten about them. At that moment I nearly lost it with him.

My mother had waited at the bus stop in the CBD for nearly two and a half bloody hours. Neither of them had even considered picking up the phone and dialling the number I gave them and if no answer, dialling the other. I don't think I have ever been so worried before or since. That was nearly 18 years ago and it still stresses me when it comes to mind.
(Redemption blamed it on the Bossa Nova since, Sat 7 Apr 2012, 8:27, 2 replies)

Aren't your parents grown up?
Why do you have to fuss around them like a mother hen?
(ubergeekian, Sat 7 Apr 2012, 19:13, closed)

Yeah but think of the fucking spiders
the size of them in Australia, if your mom doesn't call every hour you've got to think the worse.
( buffet_the_appetite_slayer ٩(●̮̃•)۶ jacked in to the ICE on, Sat 7 Apr 2012, 22:40, closed)