About having a complete break down and crying in public.
I was to meet my boys after Kenny played a baseball game against the German School, at a spot none of us had ever been to before. We were arriving separately (nearly an hour from my university). My phone ran out of juice. Ethan’s phone was lost. Two different cabs tried to find the spot and both got lost. I wasn’t late, but could one or both boys have been early? Since the spot was hard to find, had Ethan’s driver gotten lost? He’d never been there. He doesn’t speak English. I couldn’t be reached — with a dead cell phone.
I found the spot–another outpost of the British School. My instructions were to find Ethan by a Construction Bank of China “across the street.” There wasn’t one.
How would I find him? Where was he?
And did Kenny really play a game? What if the bad pollution cancelled? Where was he?
Beijing (counting outlying areas) is 90 miles wide. And if he’d played, where would the baseball bus actually stop? School, yards, parking, covered a large area. Sightlines were blocked by office towers and garages. If he’d arrived and not seen me, maybe they took him to the next bus stop–an hour away. How would I know?
Where were my children?
After calls by lovely people still working at school at 6 pm and many tissues, about 45 minutes later, they turned up. Ethan’s driver had, in fact, gotten lost. And Kenny’s team had lost the game.