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20
Early in the morning of Tuesday, August 30th, Skip Parsons tried calling his star pitcher's cell phone, just as he did twice the night before. Just like the previous two calls, there was no answer. However, this time it went straight to voicemail. He tried the house phone next.
Busy.
He figured that Coop just was too exhausted last night to answer, but now that his phone wasn't even ringing, Skip became worried. Enough so that he made a detour on his way to Wrigley Field and stopped at Cooper's place.
Skip hit the button to Cooper's condo and waited to be buzzed in.
Nothing.
He tried again.
Nothing.
And again.
Same result.
As Skip walked away from the building's entrance back towards his SUV, he hoped that maybe Cooper had just gone to the park early to get out of the house. While he could've walked to Wrigley from Coop's condo, he instead drove and parked in his usual spot in the employee lot and headed inside the historic stadium.
As he made his way through the belly of the stadium towards his office, he was approached by a nervous-looking staffer, who he only knew as Evan.
"Good morning, Skip, umm Mr. Parsons, I mean...umm did you hear the news report on the radio on your way in today, sir?" Evan asked.
"Skip is fine, son. I try to stay away from listening to people bash me first thing in the morning, so you'll need to fill me in," Skip replied.
"Apparently, umm… they found Cooper Madison's father late last night," Evan said.
"Alive?" Skip replied.
"Unfortunately...no…" Evan said.
"Dear God… he must know… I tried to stop by his condo this morning, but nobody answered. He hasn't answered his phone, either…" said Skip.
"We actually sent an officer over this morning to do a ‘welfare check' on Cooper when we heard, but nobody was home. One of his neighbors said that they think they heard him leaving in his car around two in the morning," Evan explained.
"He's probably doing what any of us would, and that's heading down there," Skip asserted.
Approximately 540 miles away from Wrigley Field, Cooper Madison was at a rest stop gas station along I-57 South filling up his Chevy Tahoe with gas. He decided to leave Chicago and head south towards Mississippi shortly after hearing of his father's death. It was a little over 900 miles, which typically took Coop about 14 hours. Today, he was on pace to make it in under 13.
He had his cell phone, which was fully charged, with him. However, he kept it turned off. He needed to be alone with his thoughts. He always felt awkward when people would tell him they were sorry that his mom had died, and he knew that these circumstances would lead to feelings he didn't want to deal with, yet.
After he grabbed a coffee and some beef jerky from inside the service station, he continued on his journey towards his hometown. Or, at least, what was left of it.
He wasn't sure what he would do when he arrived there. He did know that he wanted to see his father and Butkus, as hard as it was going to be. He also knew that he wanted to help his hometown in any way that he could.
