Knocking on Timmy's door, Jen steps inside. "It's time to get ready for school," she says, picking up the dirty clothes scattered across the floor as she makes her way inside. Jen glances towards the bed and gasps. The collected clothes fall to the floor with a thud. Timmy's bed is empty, and his bedding is piled at the end of the mattress the way it was when she came in last night. Feeling a sudden chill, Jen looks over to find the window's sheer curtain dancing in the crisp morning breeze.
"Tommy," she yells, her voice cracking with every syllable. Running into the hall, she yells again, louder and more defined, the second time. "Tommy."
Hearing the fear in her voice, Tommy glances up to find his wife trembling at the top of the steps; a look of terror is etched across her colorless face. He bolts up the stairs two at a time as horrific images flash through his mind. "What's wrong, honey?" he breathlessly asks, reaching her side.
"Timmy is—he's gone," Jen stutters. Tears fill her hazel eyes as she collapses into her husband's arms.
Tommy steps into the room to find it's a disheveled mess. Clothes are strung everywhere; empty plates lie scattered across the floor. His bedding is twisted into a large knot at the end of his bed. He then looks over to find the window open, and by the looks of things, it'd been that way for quite a while. Rain from last night's storm had collected on the windowsill, sliding down the wall and puddling on the floor below.
Closing the window, Tommy takes a quick look around. It didn't look like anything was missing, but in this mess it was impossible to tell.
Tommy gulps down the fear steadily growing inside him. I have to remain strong for Jen and the kid's sake. In a matter-of-fact tone, he turns to his wife and says, "He's probably with one of his friends." Despite his best efforts, the words feel thin and fragile, like he's holding on to the last small fragment of hope, which he is, despite his calm demeanor.
"I'll start calling around," she says, making a list in her mind.
"And I'll see that the kids get off to school." Exchanging a quick kiss, the two go their separate ways.
With the last kid on the bus, Tommy races up the stairs to find Jen on the edge of their bed, body shaking. Tears are streaming down her pale, freckled face, the receiver clutched tightly in her hand.
Worst-case scenarios race through Tommy's mind as he intuitively races across the room, his heart pounding as he braces himself for the worst possible news of his life. Falling down beside her, Tommy takes her cold, shaky hand in his, and asks, "What's wrong?"
"No one has seen him since school yesterday," Jen sobs, wiping the tears away.
The mob's chilling warning replays in Tommy's mind. "Keep an eye on your kids," one of Bambin's goons warns as the officer drags him away.
Horrid images of their narrow escape suddenly come to mind. He then imagines Timmy trying to flee only to be shot down mid-step. With horror in his eyes, Tommy turns and says, "We need to call the police."
"They're on the way."
Springing to his feet, Tommy races towards the door. "I'm going to look for him," he yells over his shoulder. He's out the front door before Jen has a chance to protest.
****
The sun is slowly setting behind the beautiful mountains, sending rays of gold and orange across the clear evening skies.
Cold, tired, and painfully hungry, Timmy trudges his way along the familiar streets of Berryville, each step a bit slower than the last. His eyes flicker to the west when he stops to rest. I sure missed this place, he thinks, taking in the breathtaking scenery surrounding him. The Ozark Mountains are always beautiful no matter the time of year.
The park comes into view; Timmy smiles. We've had so many great times there, he thinks, recalling his happier, younger years. His mom and dad are laughing as they make their way down the metal slide. He then remembers the numerous hours they spent making sandcastles. Oftentimes their creations turned into an entire village. He then recalls being attacked by the demonic goose and how his dad stepped in to save him from becoming the feathery beast's snack. I still have scars from that damn thing, he grimaces, rubbing his aching behind. He glances around and adds, "Glad I don't see any out today."
Plopping down at the worn picnic table, Timmy pulls a crumpled sheet of notebook paper from his bag. and smooths it out across the carved-up tabletop.
The first two pages are everything he's overheard his parents say about his dad's run in with the mob. The third page contains the mentioned men's addresses and favorite hangouts. He's been piecing it together for the past three years, preparing for something he barely understands but feels he needs to finish, an acute realization that hit him the day he turned thirteen. Timmy convinced himself that taking care of this unfinished business will be the only way he and his family will get some normalcy in their lives.
Hearing footsteps crunching through the grass, Timmy glances up to find a tall, thin man heading towards him. Springing to his feet, he reaches for the weapon. hidden at the small of his back.
The stringbean of a man continues towards him. His footsteps are heavy with purpose.
I've been waiting for this, Timmy thinks, his heart racing in his chest as beads of sweat pop out across his forehead despite the falling temps. His sweaty hand clutches the weapon's wooden handle tighter as the man continues to get closer. Five, four, three—Timmy counts in his head. He's about ready to draw and shoot when he realizes the stick-figure is his cousin. Dropping his hand to his side, Timmy smiles and says. "Long time no see."
Back in the day, he and Ty were practically inseparable, often being referred to as Bevis and Butthead, although no one specified who was who. So when Tommy told his cousin his plans, Ty agreed without a bit of hesitation. The mob threatened Ty's family, forcing them from the only home they've ever known.
"Hey, short shit." Ty says, pushing Timmy back a step.
"You may be taller than me, but I'm a lot buffer." Timmy flexes his arms.
"Yeah, yeah," Ty laughs. Giving Timmy's hand a slap before pulling him into a hug. The one-upping banter began when they were young.
"Get away from me." Timmy pushes him back with a laugh, a behavior that was born from a misunderstanding, revolving into a running joke.
"You haven't changed a bit." Ty says, plopping down.
"Neither have you. Trying to play grabby ass the first chance you get."
"In your dreams." Ty smirks, recalling how it all began.
A girl grabbed Timmy's butt on a dare. Timmy turns but only sees TY standing there, so he naturally assumes his cousin was the culprit. Ty later told Timmy what really went down, turning the misjudgment into a running joke.
"So what have you been up to lately?" Timmy asks.
"I'm married with a kid."
"So you and your 'partner.'" Tommy air quotes "partner." "Decided to adopt?" Being gay is another thing Timmy teased TY about since they were young.
"I've been with more girls than you have, stud," Ty says, poking Timmy's hairless chest.
Timmy snorts. "I doubt that. So who's the unfortunate girl that was dumb enough to marry you?"
Ty pulls out his phone, hands it over, and says, "Rebecca Wells, married a year ago in March."
"The Rebecca Wells?" Timmy asks, shocked. All the guys in school had a major crush on her.
"Crossing his arms, Ty smiles and says, "Yep."
"How did you manage that?"
"The old Ty charm gets them every time." He brushes an imaginary piece of hair off his shoulder.
"You're so full of yourself," Timmy laughs.
Hearing a noise in the brush, Ty glances over in that direction but doesn't see anything. Shifting uneasily, he continues to scan the area, hoping to find the source of the noise. Ty suddenly recalls what happened to him the last time he was in town. Nervously shifting a second time, he turns towards Timmy and says, "Told the old ball and chain You're staying for a while, so grab your things and let's go."
'Don't you want to hear my plan?'
Ty nervously scans the area again. "You can tell me on the way." Tommy is shoving his paper inside his bag when he and Ty hear rustling leaves a short distance away. He anxiously glances towards the woods and sees a tall, burly figure stepping into the clearing. Recognizing the man, Ty turns towards his cousin as he screams, "Run." Gunfire breaks through the silence, sending both men scambling to the safety of the car. Timmy's breathing is quick and shallow; his heartbeat is furiously pounding against his chest wall. Throwing the passenger door open, he jumps inside.
"Hold on," Ty warns, throwing the car into drive. Tires squeal as they speed away.