My son is home. He went to Dallas. Spent one night. Then he went to Austin. Then he went to New Orleans and played the trumpet on Burbon Street for money. He slept in the Wal-Mart parking lot.
He was befriended by some of the older musicians who told him the places where he was safer than others. They also told him things his Dad had been telling him. He was ready to come home, but the boy he was with is in a not-so-good situation at home, and he was the sticking point.
I got the call from my son shortly after Noon on thursday. He was east of Baton Rouge. I sent him a little money, and told him to find a safe place to hole up in Shreveport, where I would meet him. His grandfather and I moved out at 2:05 from Tulsa, and were in Shreveport by 8 PM.
I was deeply concerned that the other boy would chicken out and persuade my son to take off again. But, as they got to Shreveport and found a good spot to sit, their car died. They managed to get it running again and hole up at a Chevron station, but at that point they knew they needed to stay put. I consider this Divine Intervention.
We met up with them, and there was an emotional reunion. We quickly looked at the kids car, and then moved on. The car failed in Texarkana, and you cannot get an alternator belt there at midnight, so we stayed in a hotel overnight. I fixed the car and we got home to Tulsa Friday afternoon.
Clearly, we have some things to work out in the family. I think my son is wiser, and more willing to do the sometimes boring things that need to be done to accomplish his dreams.
Thanks to all who helped, offered concerned comments, or just said a prayer.