Scott Wittenburg: See Tom Run

Tom Grayson felt a numbing chill in the night air as he and Tracy walked in deliberate silence toward the parking lot. Fumbling absently through his pockets for the car keys, he was still reeling from what had transpired only moments ago when he arrived at her apartment…

“I’m pregnant,” she announced flatly without so much as a hello.

“You’re what?”

“I’m pregnant, Tom, and you are the father.”

“No way!”

“Yes, way,” Tracy insisted.

“We always used protection-it just isn’t possible!”

“Tom, don’t do this to me! Have you forgotten that night after Spangler’s?”

Tom flashed back to the night they had hit the obscure off-campus nightclub. Damn! That was the one and only time he and the twenty-one-year-old beauty had made love without a condom-too horny after too many drinks and not a rubber in sight But surely he couldn’t be that unlucky Oh yes he could be, he thought, and that was a fact.

“Okay, I believe you. So what are you going to do about it?”

“I’m going to have the child, of course! And I hope you will be its father.”

“Whoa, wait a minute! I’m a married man, Tracy! Or have you forgotten? I’m not even supposed to be here!”

His words stung her like a slap in the face, Tom could tell, and he immediately regretted his brashness.

“I’m sorry Tracy, but you have to know it would be impossible for me to be any part of this. Surely you can understand-”

“All I understand is that you are telling me that you won’t be a father to our child.”

“But couldn’t you just have, an uh-”

“An abortion? No, Tom, I will not have an abortion. Besides being Roman Catholic with parents who haven’t missed a single mass since the day they were married, I don’t believe in murder-”

Suddenly, the piercing screech of skidding tires in the adjacent alley shattered Tom’s thoughts. The two turned in unison to see a car’s passenger side door fly open and a lifeless body tumble out onto the pavement. A tall, lanky man sprang out from the driver’s side and ran over to where the body had come to rest on its side. The man apparently didn’t notice the two of them standing just yards away as he kicked the body a couple of times then got back into the car and sped away.

Tom saw the man’s face clearly in the glow of the streetlight.

He and Tracy scurried over to the where the body was lying and huddled over it. When he knelt down for a closer look, Tom saw a young black woman bound with rope, gagged, and unconscious. He gingerly removed the duct tape from her mouth, half-expecting the woman to resist or cry out in pain. But except for a slight flinch, she remained unresponsive.

At that moment, Tom was gripped by a sudden wave of paranoia. If he were to get any more involved with this, Peg would almost certainly find out about his affair with Tracy Adams.

And he wasn’t about to risk that happening.

“Let’s call 911,” he told Tracy.

“But shouldn’t we get her out of the alley first and make sure she’s okay?”

“We shouldn’t move her. She’s alive and seems to be breathing okay. She needs a paramedic, not us.”

“I guess you’re right. I’ll run inside and call 911.”

“Wait! If you call from your apartment, they’ll know you made the call!”

“So what?”

“Tracy, I really don’t want to get involved in any of this. Nor do I want you to, either.”

Her eyes narrowed. “I get it-you’re afraid that your wife will know that you were with me and find out about-our child. I think you’re horrible, Tom!”

“Give me a break! I just found out about all of this ten minutes ago and it hasn’t sunk in yet! At least give me a chance to absorb the whole concept before letting the whole city know! Besides, we can still help out this girl without anyone knowing it was us.”

“And how might we do that?”

“I’ll run to the phone booth around the corner. I’ll call 911 then meet you back here. Then we’ll book up to your apartment and make sure that the squad gets here okay. But we need to hurry before the whole neighborhood comes out to see what’s happening!”

Tracy thought a moment, and then replied, “All right. But I don’t like any of this one bit. I think we should stay right here until the medics arrive.”

Tom ignored her. “I’ll be back in a flash.”

He sprinted around the corner and called 911 from the pay phone. When the dispatcher asked who was calling, he made up a name, reported the incident and promptly hung up on her.

He rejoined Tracy and hastily led the way back up to her second floor apartment. Once inside, they peered out anxiously from the living room window until the squad arrived five minutes later. Tom waited a moment or so then quietly slipped away before the cops arrived.

Peg hadn’t suspected a thing when he arrived home. He called Tracy later that night in a lame attempt to downplay the whole incident. He insisted that the assaulted girl most likely knew the man who had dumped her off in the alley so the cops shouldn’t have any trouble nabbing him.

But that hadn’t quite been the case, as it turned out.

Not by a long shot.

Tom stared at his hand and debated whether to call spades trump or pass. He had the right bower, the king and a nine of spades, plus an ace of diamonds. He was also two-suited. Frank, to Tom’s left, had dealt and would probably call trump if he didn’t-and the way his luck had been going in this game, Frank probably had a loner in hearts or diamonds. The last thing they needed was to give their opponents a possible four points and lose the game.

He peered across the table at Peg, who obviously didn’t have squat. His euchre partner and wife of eight years always wore her cards on her sleeve. Funny how he was the only one who ever seemed to notice that.

Frank’s wife, Julie, had hesitated a moment before passing. Could be a bluff, but Tom doubted it. She could be holding the left bower for all he knew-or at least a decent stopper hand along with her husband.

Screw it, he thought. He was not feeling lucky at all today.

“Pass.”

The moment he looked over and saw Frank’s smug grin, Tom knew they were screwed. He literally wanted to bust him in the jaw for a split second.

“I’ve got a loner in hearts-a frigging lay-down loner in hearts!” Frank declared triumphantly.

Tom watched in horror and awe as Frank splayed his cards on the table for all to see: a jack of hearts, a jack of diamonds, an ace and king of hearts and an ace of clubs.

“I believe we just won the game,” Frank added, not missing a beat.

Tom groaned, “Screw this! I knew I should have called spades!”

“Then why didn’t you?” Julie asked.

“Because I’m an idiot.”

“No comment,” Peg said.

“Oh well, it’s just a game,” Tom said, with more than a trace of cynicism.

Just then, Kelli entered the room and tugged at Tom’s sleeve. “Daddy, can you please tell Tyler to quit pulling my hair. He’s acting like a little shit again!”

Tom tried his best to keep a straight face as he reprimanded his five-year-old daughter, but he didn’t have much luck.

“Now you watch your mouth, young lady. Your little brother is not a little-what you just said. And if I hear you swear again like that, I’ll take your toys away from you for a whole day!”

“Oh, Daddy, you will not! And if you can call him a little shit, why can’t I? What’s the difference?”

“The difference is,” Peg said, “That your father needs to watch his mouth around his kids, that’s what. Now don’t let me hear you swear like that again Kelli or I will take your toys away for a week! Now go tell Tyler to come in here right this instant.”