"Oh, dude! You thought we'd do your mom? Man, that's sick."
"Lower your voice." Doug reached out and clamped a sweaty hand over Timmy's mouth.
"You'll wake up your parents."
He removed his hand, and put his finger to his lips as a reminder. Outside the window, blue lightning flashed across the sky, making it daylight for a brief instant.
"Sorry," Timmy said. "But man, dude, I mean… how could you think something like that about us? We'd never do that to you. It' s disgusting. It would be like doing that Jane Fonda chick that Mr. Messinger down at the newsstand thinks is so hot. Yeah, like maybe thirty years ago she was. Gross!
Your Mom 's like… old. And she's your mom, for Christ 's sake."
"I know, I know," Doug whispered, ashamed. "But I was… jealous, I guess. I know that sounds weird, I mean, what with all she was doing to me. But despite all that, she' s still my mother. I still want her to love me. Just not in that way. I thought that if you guys did it with her, that she might not love me at all anymore."
He started to cry again. Timmy sat there in stunned, silent disbeliefand despair. There was a word for what Doug had been forced to do with his mother, and that word was incest.
Timmy had read about it. It was disgusting. But as sick and as wrong as it was, some part of Doug still loved his mother. He was more worried about her leaving him than he was about the vile things she was doing to him.
"It was nice," Doug said. "Being here tonight, with your mom and your dad. Eating hamburgers and playing games and watching moviesit felt so real. It felt like a regular family must feel, you know? I wish I had that."
Timmy nodded.
"You're a lucky guy, Timmy. I know you're still sad about your grandpa, and I know you argue with your parents sometimes, but you don't know how good you' ve got it. You should be grateful, man."
"I am," Timmy said. "Believe me, I am."
"I don't want to go home tomorrow. I wish I could stay here."
"Well, look. When we get up in the morning, let's talk to my parents about it. Maybe we can"
"No!" Doug's shout was lost beneath the thunder, but both of them paused anyway, listening to see if it had awoken Timmy's parents.
"No," Doug said again, whispering this time. "You promised that you wouldn't tell anybody. You can't. Nobody else can know. Not even Barry." Timmy felt torn. On the one hand, he wanted to tell his parents. This was too big for him to try and keep it bottled up inside. His parents would be able to help. He was worried about Doug, worried about what this would do to him emotionally. Obviously, it had already had some effect. Maybe his parents would let Doug stay with them.
But on the other hand, he 'd made a promise to his friend, and he couldn't just break it. He didn't want Doug to be mad at him.
While he struggled with these conflicting emotions, Doug excused himself and crept down the hall to the bathroom. Timmy heard him running water in the sink. His mother snored softly and his father farted in his sleep. The lightning flashed again, but the storm ' s power seemed to be lessening. The rain slowed to a drizzle, and the thunder was distant now, muted.
Doug came back into the room and tried to smile. He shut the door behind him.
"Sorry. I'm done crying now."
He sat back down, and Timmy squeezed his shoulder one more time.
"It'll be okay, Doug. You'll see. It'll all be okay." But in his heart, Timmy knew that nothing would ever be okay again. It was a long time before dawn arrived, and Timmy was still awake when the first rays of sunlight crept over the horizon.
Chapter Nine
When they got up for breakfast the next morning, they were surprised to learn that Timmy's father hadn' t yet left for work. His truck was still in the driveway, and they heard him talking to Timmy 's mother in hushed, serious tones. Timmy' s first thought was that someone else in their family had died, maybe one of his aunts or uncles. His second thought was that maybe his father was sick. If that were so, it would have to be something very serious. Randy Graco had gone to work with the flu and a high fever before. He 'd even gone in every day when he broke his leg while out deer hunting four years ago. Things like illness didn' t stop him when it came to putting food on the table.
"Wonder what's happening?" Timmy said.
Doug didn't respond. He' d woken taciturn and withdrawn, and Timmy wondered if perhaps he was regretting telling the truth about what was happening between him and his mother.
"You okay, Doug?"
"Didn't sleep too good."
"Yeah, me either." Timmy pulled a clean pair of socks from his top dresser drawer.
"Listen, about last night"
"Let's not talk about it right now."
After getting dressed, the boys walked into the living room, and immediately, Timmy noticed the grim expression on both his parent' s faces. His father looked shocked, and his mother was pale. At first he was afraid they 'd overheard Doug' s latenight confession, but then he realized that they were both staring at the television, which was tuned to the local news. They hadn 't even looked up to acknowledge the boys' presence.
"What's going on?" Timmy asked. "What's wrong?" Randy looked up from the newscast and blinked in surprise. "Hey guys. Good morning."
"Don't you have to work today, Dad?"
"I'm going in late. Wanted to talk to you guys first."
"Did you boys sleep okay?" Elizabeth sipped from a coffee mug. "Or did the storm wake you up last night?"
"We heard it," Timmy said. "Sounded pretty bad. Is that what's on the news?"
"No," she said quickly, glancing at her husband. "It's just…" She shook her head and took another sip of coffee.
"Just what?"
"Maybe you two better sit down," Randy said, waving his hand at the couch. Shit, Timmy thought. They did overhear us last night.
Doug shuffled his feet. "Um, are we in trouble, Mr. Graco?"
"No, Doug. Not at all." He gave a short, uncomfortable laugh. "But we do need to talk."
Timmy and Doug took seats on opposite ends of the couch. Timmy glanced at the television.
A reporter was standing alongside a road. There were woods behind him, and a car parked along the side next to the trees. The entire area had been roped off with yellow police tape. Timmy frowned.
"What's going on, Dad?"
Randy stood up and turned off the television. Then he turned to his wife. "Hon, can you get me some more coffee?"
"Sure." Elizabeth got his mug and disappeared into the kitchen. Randy leaned forward in his chair, folded his hands together, and stared at them both without speaking. He seemed to be considering something. Timmy and Doug both twitched nervously. Randy opened his mouth to speak, but the phone rang, interrupting him. In the kitchen, Timmy heard his mother answer it.
"Hello?… Oh, hi Brenda Yes, Randy and I were just watching it on the news… Terrible." Randy cleared his throat. Timmy and Doug turned their attention back to him.
"Boys," he said, "I don't know how to say this, so I'm just going to say it. I know you' ve had some trouble in the past with Ronny Nace and Jason Glatfelter and Steve Laughman. I know they 're not exactly friends of yours, butwell, there's been some bad news." Timmy twitched, wondering if his parents had found out about Ronny's stolen bike, and what they'd done with it.
Doug looked relieved. "Are they finally in jail for something?"
"No. They're missing."
In the kitchen, Elizabeth told Brenda goodbye and then hung up the phone.
"Missing?" Timmy glanced at the blank television screen. "Like they ran away?" His father shook his head. "I guess it's a possibility, but the police don' t seem to think so. Their parents reported them missing this morning. Another woman is missing, too. An adult. Deb Lentz. They found her car abandoned out near Porter 's Sawmill. And there's even speculation that maybe Karen Moore and her boyfriend didn't run off, either."