Rene Gutteridge - Listen

At the top he hesitated. What he might find could change his whole world in an instant and would prove everything wrong that he’d believed. It almost seemed as if he’d just been given news that he would die, and he had a few minutes to ponder it. There was nothing to do in a few minutes except to briefly reflect on what could have been.

He walked toward Hunter’s room. The door was shut. He turned the knob and opened it, almost expecting the young man to be diving toward or away from something.

But the room was quiet and peaceful. Neat, even. But odorous in a way only a teenager can manage. It felt awkward to be in here without Hunter. He couldn’t even remember the last time he’d been in his son’s room alone. It felt like trespassing.

There was no use just standing around and thinking about it. He first went through his desk, searching through a bunch of unorganized papers, spirals, and folders. Nothing.

Next he went to the closet, where he scooted clothing across the bar, digging behind boxes and junk, trying not to think of the implications of what would happen if he found what he was looking for.

He walked out of the closet empty-handed and glanced around the room. There wasn’t a great deal of hiding space in the room. He walked over to the bed and dropped to his knees. The floor was cold even with the rug.

He lay flat on his stomach and reached through the shadows, a little afraid of what might jump out and grab him. He groped around. A few papers. A couple of old toys.

Then his fingers touched something cold, firm, folderlike. Walking his fingers across it, he tried to scoot it across the rug. When it didn’t budge, he nudged his thumb underneath it and pulled.

Out slid a bright red folder. Damien pushed himself to his knees. His hands shook so badly he could barely open it, but when he managed to, his heart sank with grief. There in the folder sat the original letter that had been sent to him from the person responsible for the Web site.

His son.

Damien fell with his face to the floor, crying against the folder… against the evidence.

Damien was unsure how long he’d lain on the carpet when he heard a loud knock downstairs at his front door. He couldn’t move and didn’t want to. But the banging continued, and now he heard a strong male voice. “Damien! We know you’re in there!”

He looked at the folder, unsure what to do with it. So he carried it downstairs with him. Through the thin curtains of the side windows, he saw three men. He set the folder down and opened the door.

Captain Grayson stood in full uniform. Next to him an officer Damien didn’t recognize. And Detective Murray.

“You’re under arrest, Damien, for violations of state privacy laws.” Grayson took out handcuffs. Damien went numb as he offered his wrists. “You have the right to remain silent…”

But Damien didn’t care anything about his own rights at the moment. He wondered what he should do, whether he should turn over the evidence against his son. He stared blankly past the officers, past his front yard, into some unknown future that looked bleak.

“Damien?”

“What?”

“I’ll tell you up front that we have linked your credit card to the Web site. That’s the evidence we needed to make the arrest.”

Damien nodded.

Grayson then handed him over to be taken to the patrol car. Damien’s elderly neighbor across the street stood in his coat, watching the entire scene.

In an instant Damien could show them all he had, turn Hunter in. The folder lay right inside. But as they pushed him into the patrol car and as the officer reached across him to buckle him in, Damien didn’t say a word.

Kay, her skin now numb to the cold, returned to her SUV and turned it off, pulling the keys from the ignition. She closed the door and punched the remote lock.

Where was her son? The path that Hunter took home could not be followed in a vehicle. He always cut through the park and then through a heavily populated neighborhood that did not have fences.

She hurried toward the park, cursing as she thought about him not having his stupid cell phone. What if he was in trouble? Why did she have to ground him from that, when he might need it the most?

Then wind stung her eyes, blurring her vision. “Hunter! Baby! Hunter!” Tears blew from her face. “Hunter!”

She wasn’t exactly certain of the path, but she knew she was close. She continued to call his name over and over. The walk home was a little less than a mile, and she’d run the entire thing in less than ten minutes, calling his name all along the way. She even stopped some people to see if they had seen him.

But nobody had seen her precious boy. She came within a block of their house. She could see the driveway. The house looked empty. All the lights were out, except the dining room light, which she must’ve left on. If Hunter was there, every light in the house would’ve been glowing. He had a bad habit of leaving lights on everywhere.

She turned and started the long run back to her SUV.

At home, Kay parked the SUV in the driveway and hurried to the front door, unlocking it with shaky hands. Her mind rattled with all sorts of possible scenarios. She dialed Jenna’s cell phone again.

“Hello?”

“Have you seen Hunter?” Kay kept her voice light.

“No. Can I call you back? I’m in the middle of something.”

“Don’t worry about it. I’ll talk to you when you get home.” She hung up and dialed Damien’s cell phone. She didn’t want to worry him, and she was having a hard time trusting her gut instinct right now, but something told her not to blow this off.

She turned suddenly, because as she heard the phone ringing in her ear, she also heard Damien’s phone ringing somewhere nearby.

There, on the kitchen counter. Next to a red folder. She shoved the folder aside and stared at the phone as it blinked and vibrated.

Damien had been home? Maybe he had Hunter. Yes, that had to be it. She’d never known Damien to forget his cell phone, but he had a lot on his mind.

It made sense, but she wouldn’t rest easy until she knew they were together for sure.

She went to the dining room to turn off the light. Scattered across the table was the Monopoly game. They must’ve played a quick game after school. She smiled, though. It definitely meant they’d been together because who plays Monopoly by themselves?

She managed a few deep, thankful breaths of relief and opened the freezer door. Wherever they were, she knew they’d be home for dinner, and she’d have it ready for them.

Grayson apologized for the cuffs, saying it was procedure and that they cuffed everyone.

Damien didn’t say anything as he stared out the window of the patrol car, watching his town pass, street by street, house by house, door by door.

The general mood seemed subdued like the crowd after a holocaust movie. But why not? Many of them had their private words splashed across the Internet. Others read the ugly words spoken about them. The ugly words they’d used themselves.

It made Damien wonder if the words had any power before they were printed for all to read. Did they change the world when spoken, or did they change the person speaking them?

The short drive to the jail was over. The patrol car pulled to the side of the jailhouse into a small, underground parking garage. Grayson helped Damien out of the car, guiding him along as if he were a dinner date, with his hand on his back and his attention to detail, like opening doors and gesturing which way to walk.

“Sit here,” Grayson said. “I have to get paperwork.”

Damien sat in a metal-and-vinyl chair, watching the activity in the jailhouse. It wasn’t particularly busy. A few people glanced at him, but other than that he was left alone.