Scott Wittenburg - See Tom Run

“I will, Daddy.”

“Love you.”

“Love you, too.”

Tom carried his coffee into the family room. Peg was dusting the furniture and Tyler was lying on the floor, his eyes glued to the tube.

“Morning, troops,” he greeted.

“Hi honey. Are you feeling any better now? I hope I didn’t wake you when I got up.”

“I don’t think a nuclear blast could’ve woken me. I feel pretty good-just a little tired and groggy.”

Tyler got up, ran over to his father and gave him a big hug. “I’m glad you didn’t die, daddy!”

Tom held him tight. “Thanks, son, so am I.”

“Did you dream any while you were asleep in the Jeep?”

Tom said, “Hmm. That’s a very good question. If I did, I don’t remember anything.”

“The doctor said breathing gasoline fumes can cause hallucinations,” Peg said.

Tom let go of his son and went over to give Peg a peck on the lips. “Is that so? I don’t remember doing any of that, either.”

Peg threw her arms around him. “Tom, I’ve never been so scared my whole life! Every time I think of how close you came to dying, I realize how much I truly love you-and how I could never make it without you.”

Tom hugged her tight. “I’m sure it was pretty frightening for you. But I’m fine, no permanent damage, and I’m afraid you’re stuck forever with my naturally deranged mind.”

She laughed. “And I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

Tom went over and sat down on the sofa. “Who found me, anyway?”

“One of the employees-a young man named Justin Spencer. He was collecting shopping carts out in the lot when he noticed you slumped over the steering wheel.”

“I’d like to thank him for saving me. Is he a local boy?”

“Yes, a Thomas Worthington High student. His family lives just a few blocks from us, over on Selby.”

“I’ll call him later today. I’d like to give him something for what he did, too. You know, a reward or something.”

“I think that would be a nice gesture, honey.”

“Man, what a weird thing to happen! I still can’t believe I couldn’t smell those fumes.”

“Like I’ve been telling you, you need to get those sinuses looked at.”

“I know, I know. I’ll make an appointment-I promise. Did the doctor happen to explain why I passed out so quickly?”

“Actually, he never mentioned anything about that. He must have assumed that the fumes were strong enough by the time you got back into the Jeep that a few breaths was all it took to knock you out.”

“Hmm, that must have been the case then.”

“And how many times have I told me not to keep the car running while it’s parked, Tom? That was really a stupid thing to do!”

Tom shook his head from side to side. “I know. It was just so damned cold and I knew I wasn’t going to be very long in the store. I guess I really screwed up there.”

“You sure did-you’re lucky you didn’t kill yourself.”

“Honey, I admitted I screwed up, okay? I screwed up over my sinuses and I screwed up with keeping the car running in the parking lot. Now, can you just let it drop so we can move on with our lives and not badger me anymore about it?”

Tom realized that he’d raised his voice and could see that Peg was pissed off now. She glared at him, glanced down at Tyler lying on the floor staring at the two of them then turned her back to Tom. She resumed her dusting without a word.

“Sorry,” he said.

“No you’re not,” she replied.

Screw this! he thought. He decided to change the subject. “I wonder when the Jeep will be ready.”

“Not today, it’s Sunday,” Peg replied with enough edge to remind him he was skating on thin ice. “Why do you ask?”

“I need to go down to the school and catch up on some work. Mind if I take your car?”

“Of course not. When do you think you’ll be home?”

“Maybe a couple of hours or so.”

“Eat some breakfast, first.”

“I will.”

With that, Tom stood up and returned to the kitchen. Kelli was putting her dishes in the sink when he entered.

“Good girl,” he said.

“I know,” she replied before heading out.

Tom fixed himself a bowl of cereal, some toast and warmed up his coffee. When he was finished, he took a shower, shaved and got dressed. He kissed Peg goodbye on his way out the door.

During his shower, Tom had come to the conclusion that he simply couldn’t take any more of this any longer. He backed Peg’s Accord out of the driveway, booted up his cell phone and punched in Frank Warren’s number resolutely.

After filling Frank in with the details since regaining consciousness at the hospital the night before, Tom asked him to meet him at the Panera on High Street in fifteen minutes and not to tell Julie of their meeting. He said he would explain later. Frank, obviously intrigued by this unusual request, agreed and told his wife he was going to run a couple of errands.

Tom was tired of the guilt he was feeling for not reporting the incident he and Tracy had witnessed on that fateful night. He wanted to-no, needed to get this off of his chest. He wasn’t sure yet if he was going to tell Frank the whole story-about Tracy being pregnant-he figured he would play that part by ear.

After Tom went inside the popular cafe, he hung out near the entrance to await Frank’s arrival. Five minutes later, he saw his friend come through the door.

“Thanks for coming,” Tom greeted him.

“No problem. I’m dying to know what all of this mystery is about! I don’t suppose it has anything to do with your near-death experience, does it?”

Tom led the way to the counter. “Indirectly, I guess you could say. What would you like-I’m buying.”

“Just coffee. I’ve already had breakfast.”

Tom ordered two coffees and the pair made their way to a table near the fireplace in the center of the shop.

Frank took a sip and looked over at Tom. “So what’s up?”

Tom wasn’t sure exactly where to start. All of a sudden, he wasn’t sure that this was such a good idea after all and nearly changed his mind about confiding in his friend. Then he realized it was too simply too late to turn back now.

“First, let me ask you a theoretical question: if someone witnessed a crime and wanted to report it, could he do so anonymously?”

Frank was clearly taken aback by the question and Tom knew that he was already itching to know what this was leading up to.

“Well, yes. Of course he could. A lot of the tips the police get are from anonymous callers responding to public pleas for information on various crimes. Why do you ask?”

“But what if the police wanted the anonymous caller to pick out a potential suspect from a lineup or a mug sheet? How could he do that without getting involved with any litigation that may eventually come up?”

The attorney was clearly mystified about this line of questioning. “What in the hell has happened, Tom? And why do I have the sneaky feeling that you are this theoretical anonymous caller?”

Tom smiled uncomfortably. “Okay, so I’m asking on my own behalf. Now, what about the question?”

“It’s difficult to say, really. I guess realistically, the police would plead with you to come to the station with the info and to testify in the case if it became necessary. It really all depends on the conditions of the particular crime in question. So level with me, Tom. Tell me what you are referring to here.”

“In strict confidence, as my friend?”

“Of course. Shoot.”

Tom knew there was no going back now. He could only hope that Frank was leveling with him as well. “Well, remember the girl that was raped and dumped out of a car about a month ago?”