Silence reigned in the truck as father and son drove toward the harbor. Norman didn't dare to reach for the radio, so there was nothing to distract him from the anxious thoughts swirling around his mind. Where in the heck is Edgar? Did he run away from home? If he did, why isn't he riding his bike? Nothing's happened recently between him and dad...they've been getting along okay. The only "traumatic" thing that's happened lately is Sig leaving...

Before he could follow this line of thought, Norman's musing was interrupted by the unexpected sound of his father's voice.

"Did Edgar say anything to you? Anything that might tell us where he is?"

Norman had been wracking his brain ever since the phone call in the kitchen, trying to recall something that Edgar might have said or did that would give them a clue about what was going on.

"I've been trying to remember something, but he seemed fine, Dad. We had a good time last night with the girls, and he seemed excited about the first day of school. He woke me up this morning when he left...I heard the garage door."

Sverre glanced sharply at Norman from the corner of his eye as something occurred to him. He forced his eyes back to the road as he spoke. "I was up before six this morning, Son. How early did he leave?" At the time, Norman had figured that Edgar was just excited about school starting- but when he really started to think about it...something wasn't right.

"He left at 5. Geez, Dad, school doesn't start till 7:30. Why the heck would he leave so early? I guess I didn't really think about it until now."

Sverre's face was grim; he had already come to his own conclusion: That boy was planning something all along. A pretty elaborate plan...asking me if he could go early to school and take his bike...lying about going to his friend's house. He's going to have a lot to answer for when I get a hold of him.

Although he didn't say so, Sverre was just as worried as Norman. It was almost six o'clock in the evening... his youngest had been missing for over 12 hours.

Further conversation was cut off as the truck turned a corner and approached the parked squad car, the two officers waiting beside it.

Back aboard the Time Bandit...

Edgar tossed and shifted in the stuffy closet, unable to get comfortable. The Dramamine wasn't working, and the smell was getting worse and worse. He longed for some fresh air...to feel the sea wind on his face. His rolling stomach threatened to erupt again, and he closed his eyes as he fought the feeling. I can't do this. I can't breathe in here. Desperate, he struggled to his feet. I have to get out of here. I don't give a shit anymore...they can do what they want with me. He frantically pushed aside the hanging rain gear, not even listening for voices before bursting out the door and into the storage area. Thankfully, no one was around. It was much easier to breathe out here, and he crouched behind a crate of equipment. I'll wait here for a few minutes. I just need to breathe.

Encouraged by the fact that he hadn't been instantly discovered, Edgar decided to venture further. He tiptoed past the galley and peered out onto the deck. The sun was still shining, but it was cold. He hadn't been imagining it...the water was much rougher now than it had been that morning. The Time Bandit rose and fell in the ocean swells, and the wind was high. Out of nowhere, another wave of nausea flooded him. Edgar lost all sense of self-preservation...he could only concentrate on the urgent need to throw up. Running across the deck, he heaved and vomited violently, leaning dangerously over the railing as his stomach emptied itself again.

Back home...

Norman could only glimpse the setting sun between the dark clouds as his dad pulled the truck to a stop behind the police car. The little trees along the boardwalk swayed and danced in the strong breeze. He sighed. Great, more rain for the great state of Washington.

Exiting the truck, Norman and Sverre approached the officers. Norman greeted Patricia politely, calling her "Ma'm" and not letting on to the fact that they were friends. Sverre questioned the officers as they walked toward the underground lot; it seemed odd to him that they had known that the bike was most likely Edgar's. His brows rose and he glanced at Norman as he listened, realizing that these particular officers had been involved with the trouble Edgar had gotten into over the summer.

The flashlights illuminated the green motor bike, and both Norman and his father caught their breath. Norman had been hoping against hope that the police were mistaken about bike belonging to his brother. His anxiety jumped up another notch. Officer Rowe addressed Sverre.

"Do you recognize this bike, sir?"

"Yes, officer. It belongs to my youngest son, Edgar," was the quiet reply.

"Do you know where your son is right now?"

It was humiliating to admit to the police, but the worried father didn't hesitate.

"No, I just found out a little while ago that Edgar didn't go to school today. He lied to me and told me that he was meeting a friend early before school and also going to that friend's house after school. We have talked to this friend and he claims he hasn't seen my son all day."

Patricia spoke up. "Do you have any idea why Edgar's bike would be here in particular?" Her voice softened. "Teenagers tend to want to 'take off' when they don't want to deal with something. Have there been any issues or arguments between you? Anything traumatic that might have precipitated him running away?"

Norman remained quiet as the police questioned his father. He was worried about his brother, but also irritated that Edgar was pulling something like this. That kid just doesn't know when to quit. There's gonna be hell to pay once we find him. At least Sig isn't here. Then there'd be 3 people worrying instead of just 2. Suddenly, it hit him. Sig's gone. The kid was pretty broken up about it. Holy shit... Sig leaving had been pretty damn "traumatic".

He didn't say anything, but his mind was going a mile a minute. By now, Officer Rowe had used a bolt cutter to break the chain that was anchoring the motorcycle to the metal pole. Sverre steadied the bike with his hands. He quietly thanked the officers, agreeing to call if he didn't find Edgar within the next few hours. Patricia handed him her card, and promised to keep in touch.

Norman helped his dad secure the bike in the truck bed. For some reason, he was hesitant to voice his suspicions. As he tightened the chain around the body of the bike, Norman inadvertently pushed the lever of the storage compartment. The seat popped up, and something white caught his eye. Squinting in the fading evening light, he pulled out an envelope.

"Ummm, Dad?"

Aboard the Time Bandit...

Captain John Hillstrand grabbed the back of Edgar's shirt as he heaved and vomited over the side of the boat, coming dangerously close to falling into the cold water below.

"EDGAR? Jesus, boy, what are you doing out here?" He pounded the kid's back as he sputtered and coughed. John waited until Edgar caught his breath, and then shook him once, hard. "Answer me. Why are you stowin' away on my boat? Shit, you almost just fell overboard!" The fear of what could have happened crowded into his mind, and he couldn't stop himself from landing a powerful swat to the boy's backside. Edgar jumped at the sting. Damn, he can really pack a wallop with that hand of his. He blinked back a few tears.

"I-I'm trying to get to Sig," he whimpered, rubbing his stinging bottom. John listened incredulously.

"…Trying to get to SIG? We won't even be close to catching up with Sig for another hour. Damn, Son, we're too far out to take you back…." A thought occurred to him. "…but then, you knew that, didn't you?" The kid nodded, shivering in the brisk sea wind. I hope the Captain doesn't decide to add any more swats to that one he gave me. It still hurts! He must have gotten a lot of practice with his boys.

The big man sighed. "And your father? I take it he doesn't even know where you are." The man's pulse quickened as he envisioned one of his boys disappearing like this when they were Edgar's age. "Shit, we probably won't even be able to contact him for a few days. Got a storm blowing up behind us, and it plays havoc with the communications." He jerked his head at his sons, who were staring in disbelief. "Take him in the galley where it's warmer. I'll try to raise Sig on the radio."

Moving slowly, Johnathan approached the boy and took him by the arm. Remembering the Shack and everything that Sig had been through with his youngest brother this summer, he felt anger flare that the kid would do something this stupid. His voice was hard.

"Let's go, kid. Get your ass inside." Edgar was freezing, and did not resist as he was escorted to the galley. Johnathan pushed him into a chair, draping a blanket around his shoulders.

"What the hell were you thinking? Christ, what a crazy, shit-for-brains thing to do! What about your father? And Norman? And SIG! After all he did for you this summer, you're gonna pull this?" Johnathan fumed.

Edgar blinked back tears at the words, "I—I ..."

Johnathan cut him off. "You know what? I don't want to hear it yet. There's a storm coming, and we're gonna have to haul ass to try to get to the Northwestern before it hits. Stay here...Andy, let's get on deck." They hurried out of the galley, shrugging into jackets. Edgar was left alone with only his thoughts.

I've done it now. Everyone's mad at me. He shifted on the hard chair. My butt still hurts, too. Only one good thing was going to come from being discovered by the Hillstrands:

I'm finally gonna be with Sig.