Nicole Brodeur: Mike Wilk, your family is waiting
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Father's Day came and went. Another week passed. And still, no trace of Mike Wilk.
Father's Day was the test. It seemed the last, best reason for Wilk to come back to Renton from wherever he disappeared to last January; to celebrate with his sons, 5 and 6, and show that he really hadn't left them, forever and without a word.
But now those who have been waiting for a man the way some wait for a belated Valentine are faced with reality.
Last month, King County sheriff's Detective Jim Doyon declared the case "inactive."
"I have no leads, no clues," he said yesterday.
Wilk, 37, disappeared the night of Jan. 6, after talking with his wife, Deborah, 36, about their marriage.
"I think I better go and have some time by myself," he said.
Wilk grabbed his wallet and drove off. Records show he bought a coat at the Target store in Factoria, then withdrew $50 from a bank machine on Mercer Island.
Two months later, Wilk's 1997 Acura Integra was found under the Alaskan Way Viaduct in Seattle. Police scoured it, but lab work showed no trace of blood and no extra-family fingerprints.
Wilk has not used the couple's bank accounts or credit cards, or his Social Security number, which he would need for a new job or home.
I called Deborah Wilk to see how she is coping.
"I am... ," she started, and then paused. I listened to her breathing, the traffic on her end, and then: "... sad."
"There's no closure, there's no nothing," she said. "There's no dealing with the reality of the loss, which is just huge."
I hate the quiet of the Wilk case. I hate the way none of us noticed him. I hate the way he slipped away, when for so long he was so present in the lives of his wife and kids.
He worked at a computer company. He went to Mariners games. He cut the lawn. And then one day, after words with his wife, he drove off, parked his car and vanished.
"It looks like this person is not around," Deborah said. "I don't believe there is any way he'd stay away from his children. His gift was being so present. He was right there."
On his birthday, April 15, she and the boys wrote some notes and brought them to the Seattle waterfront.
"I told them that if we read them to the wind, the winds and the birds and the water and the waves would carry them to their dad."
On Father's Day, Deborah placed photos of the boys and their father beside a lighted candle. They talked about how they used to read books, play Chutes and Ladders.
When they blew the candle out, the boys thought the smoke would carry their words to their father. So their mother took the candle outside, then put a hand to each boy's heart: "I think I just got a message back. It says, 'I love you and am always in your hearts.' "
She tells the boys only that their dad would contact them if he could.
"They have never asked me if he is dead," she said. "If they did I would have to say that we don't know."
Doyon can't add a thing: "If he is alive, he has made no contact with his children."
And that is, perhaps, the biggest clue.
Nicole Brodeur's column appears Sunday, Tuesday and Thursday. Reach her at 206-464-2334; or at nbrodeur@seattletimes.com. She is intrigued by high-school sweethearts.