Tom paced back and forth across his living room, contemplating telling his second lie in the past twenty four hours. He held his cell phone in both hands and folded them behind his back as he paced, his brow furrowed. Would it be obvious to Dougie that he was avoiding him? His little lie had bought him one day, but he knew he needed at least one or two more days before he could face his friend again. But that would require calling the house and lying to Ms. Poynter again! And Tom hated lying; he hated being lied to, but not as deeply as he hated lying to people. It just made him feel dishonest.
Despite his hatred for lying, he'd already made up his mind to call and extend his time at 'the Johnson's'. Really, he was at his house with no lights on and no fire going. Call him a little paranoid, but he didn't want anyone driving by and noticing the lights on and smoke coming from the chimney. Everyone in the town knew everyone's business, so they would probably stop by to see what was going on. And he didn't want that.
He looked at his phone, trying to figure out how to use it. He'd probably only used it about twice in his life, because, well, who would Tom Fletcher the farm boy call? His mum never liked the idea of him working in the middle of the field with no way to call for help if he needed it. So she got the phone for him, where she bought more minutes once they'd used them all up. She only put sixty minutes on it to begin with, and it had been in Tom's possession for almost two years. Never once had his mom needed to put more minutes on it.
"Alright... so I... punch in the numbers..." he said to himself slowly, punching each number in as if it took way more thought than it really did. "And then... I... push the green button.." He watched the phone for a second, before placing it to his ear. And then a thought struck him. What if he picks up?! Before he had the time to think of a plan, the phone was picked up. Luckily enough for Tom, it was Dougie's mum.
"Hello?" she asked quietly.
"Hi, Ms. Poynter, it's Tom..." he said slowly.
"Oh, hello! Did you guys get everything taken care of?" Tom closed his eyes and sighed away from the phone mouthpiece. "Tom? You there?"
"Yeah. I'm here..." he said, opening his eyes and leaning against a wall. "Sorry, but we aren't done yet... those damn cows did a lot more damage than I thought they would, so I might be over here for another day or so..." he said, regretting every word coming out of his mouth.
"Oh... well that's alright. Just stay out of trouble, okay?"
"Yes ma'am…"
"And Tom?"
"What?"
"I mean it this time."
Tom was silent for a second, guilt almost overriding him. "Yes ma'am. No more trouble."
"Okay, good. I hope you finish soon!"
"Yes ma'am, we're working hard. But I gotta go now, more work to be done."
"Okay, just give me a call tomorrow, alright?"
"Yes ma'am, I will."
"Okay, bye bye!"
"Bye, ma'am." Tom snapped the phone shut and stared at it for a moment, before throwing it onto the couch across the room. "Damnit, it's fucking freezing in here..." he grumbled as he walked through his house, up to his room, and grabbed a big blanket to wrap around himself. He needed to think. What had happened between him and Dougie had been plaguing his mind since it happened. Every time he thought of it he could feel that strange, new, funny feeling rising in his stomach, and it sort of made him feel like throwing up. But it didn't make him want to throw up in a bad way, if that made sense. It didn't make sense to him, but that was the only way he could think to describe it to himself. Pulling his knees up to his chest and wrapping another blanket around himself, he placed his head in his knees, hoping this would become clear.
"Temperatures hit an all time low last night in Arkansas, getting to an amazing negative thirty degrees, breaking the old record of negative 29 which was set on February 13th, 1905. Dress warm, heat your houses, and STAY INSIDE. The ice on the road is THICK."
"Oh, wow... I hope Tom doesn't have to drive anywhere," Joanne said quietly, turning to look at Chris with concern.
"I'm sure he'll be fine," Chris assured her, wrapping his arm around her shoulder and giving it a squeeze.
She nodded slowly, looking down at her lap. "Maybe I should go check on Dougie," she said quietly, making to get up.
"Hold on, little lady," Chris said, holding her down.
She turned to look at him. "What?" she asked impatiently.
"Maybe you should give him some space..."
She scoffed at him and rolled her eyes. "Oh, please, like that really works?"
Chris sighed quietly. "If you go bug him, you might just make him madder... just let him have some time to think things over. He'll come to you when he's ready..."
"Obviously you don't know my son..."
"What good is it gonna do if you go up there?'
Joanne sighed and sat back into his arms. "Fine. But if he hasn't come out by tomorrow afternoon I'm barging in with a plate of his favorite food," she said with a pout.
Chris laughed and nodded his head. "Alright, it's a deal."
Well, tomorrow afternoon had come [also known as 'Sunday morning'], and Dougie still hadn't left his room as far as his mum knew. She stood in front of his door, holding a tray with eggs, bacon, chocolate chip pancakes, toast, and orange juice, waiting for the perfect moment to knock. She wanted to get the point across that she was sorry, but she didn't know how without feeling like a complete ass. Yes, Dougie got some things from her. "Dougie, honey?" she asked, knocking on his door three times. There was a long silence in which she was just standing awkwardly. "Dougie? I'm sorry, okay... can I come in, please?" Still, no answer.
Now she was getting irritated. She'd made his favorite breakfast! And she'd apologized. He should've been in the hall kissing her feet already. "Dougie. I'm coming in. If you're naked, I'd suggest you cover up, because I'm not shy," she warned. Hearing nothing, not even scrambling, she sighed and opened the door. "Doug– " she cut off when she realized he wasn't in his room. With a furrowed brow, she set down the tray of food on his desk and looked around his room, before looking around the whole house. She didn't know if she should be angry or worried, but more of her was worried.
She walked over to the phone on the wall and rapidly dialed Tom's number. "Come on... pick up, you stupid hick!" she hissed, bouncing with nerves.
"Hello?" Tom asked, after several seconds of trying to figure out how to turn the phone on.
"Tom! Is Dougie with you?" she asked quickly.
"... uhhh... no, why?"
Joanne sighed and covered her eyes with a hand. "Have you heard from him?" she continued.
"No, not since Friday night... Is everything okay?"
"No, it's not, actually. I can't find Dougie anywhere."
"I'm sure he's fine... you know how he just walks out the door without saying nothing..."
Joanne bit down on her thumb, shaking her head slowly. "Normally, yes... but I haven't seen him since Friday night, either... I just have this bad feeling that... I dunno, something's wrong..."
"It's alright, Ms. Poynter..."
"It's so cold out there! And my baby's somewhere out there!"
"Here, I'll tell you what... if he's not back by sun down tonight, call me and I'll come back over and we'll go look for him."
She sighed and nodded her head, not that he could see it. "Okay... I'll talk to you later." And without waiting for a goodbye, she hung up the phone.
Hours went by where she was just circling, pacing, walking around the house, and quite frequently checking Dougie's room to see if maybe he'd snuck in through the window. He is going to be in SO much trouble when he gets home, she thought, trying to convince herself that he'd just left without saying goodbye. So, just for good measure, she waited until 9 PM before calling Tom, this time even more panicked than before.
Tom's mind was on Dougie's disappearance, too. He'd told Dougie's mum it was probably nothing, but he had this horrible feeling in his gut that something was wrong. And he knew Dougie's mum probably felt it, too. His phone ringing again made him jump and gasp. He grabbed for it and opened it, holding it to his ear. "Hello?!" he asked frantically.
"Tom... he's not home yet."
Tom was silent for a moment, every part in his body going tense. "He's not?"
"No... I don't think he ever came home Friday night..."
Tom swallowed nervously. "Alright, I'll be over as fast as I can."
"Tom, don't rush over here just for this. The news said to be careful because the roads are so icy, and the temperature is still dropping."
"Alright, ma'am. I'll be over there as soon as possible," he said, before shutting his phone. Covering his mouth with his hand, he took a deep breath and closed his eyes. This's all my fault... I shouldn't have run away from him... Slowly Tom's eyes opened and he stood from his bed, where he'd been for almost two days. He threw on a sweater and a jacket, before leaving the house. He'd gone the day before to get his truck from the Peterson barn, so it was sitting in his driveway, dirty as ever.
The entire drive to Dougie's house, his mind was on nothing but his friend. Or... more than friend? He liked the thought, but he didn't. It confused his mind too much, so he shook his head to get it out. After about a fifteen minute drive he was back to Dougie's house and pulling into the driveway carefully. Walking through the door, he was met with a warm house, and a very worried mother.
"Oh, Tom!" she greeted him, hugging him tightly. "I'm glad you're okay! I was worried about you on that ice!"
"Yeah... I'm fine." Tom was quiet and didn't have much to say, really. Right now all he cared about was finding Dougie. "So... he hasn't been home?" he asked, his voice gentle.
She sighed and shook her head. "I can't find him anywhere... Do you know where he might be?"
Tom thought for a moment.
"I like it here," Dougie said quietly, looking over to Tom with a gentle smile.
"The barn?" Tom asked, looking over to the boy laying next to him with an amused smile. "Is it the smell that does it for you?" he joked, earning a smack on the arm from Dougie.
"No one can find me here."
"I wonder..." Tom started quietly. Their last conversation HAD been in the barn... so maybe Dougie hadn't left. "I'm gonna go check something..." he said mysteriously, before walking out the door, offoring no explanation. The second he opened the door, the cold air hit his face like a hard slap. "Oh, Jesus," he said, his entire body shuddering. Dougie would be crazy to stay out in that weather, so Tom figured he probably wouldn't still be in the barn. But where else would he go? He walked in through the back entrance, flipping on a light. "Dougie?" he called, his voice loud through the barn. There was no answer, so Tom walked a bit further into the barn. "Dougie, are you in here?" Still hearing nothing, he sighed and turned the light off again, walking out the door.
But little did he know Dougie WAS in the barn. "T-T-Tooom..." his voice was faint and stuttered with shivering. His eyes were half open, and he was staring at the corner of the room, curled into himself for warmth. He'd passed out after crying all Friday night, and woken up so cold he couldn't move. He figured it would warm up, but it didn't. If anything things were starting to feel colder; colder than he'd ever felt in his entire life. Gently, he had let himself fall asleep again, and when he woke up finally, his stomach was grumbling terribly loud, and he felt weaker than the last time he'd woken up, not to mention he'd lost feeling in practically every part of his body. "T-T-Tom..." He felt like he was yelling, but the word barely came from his throat. He coughed quietly, before letting sleep wash over him again.
"He's not around here..." Tom said as he walked through the door, the warm of the house making his cheeks burn and turn bright red. "I'm gonna drive to the next town," Tom explained.
"No! I don't want you driving on this ice!"
"But I have to!"
"No, it's not worth your life!"
"I don't care if I die!" he exclaimed suddenly, startling Joanne quite a bit. She stared at him with wide eyes, not sure where this new side to Tom was coming from. "I'm finding him if it KILLS me! This is my fault, and I'm setting it right!" he continued loudly, before storming out of the house, leaving Dougie's mom in the living room with wide eyes.
"Come on, honey... let's go," Chris said, putting his hand gently on her shoulder.
"Where?"
"Wherever it takes us to find him." So Tom took off in one direction, and Chris and Joanne took off in the other, while Dougie lay in the barn, getting weaker, colder, and hungrier as each second passed.
It wasn't until four in the morning that Joanne and Chris returned to the house to find no Tom.
Tom was wandering random towns, going further than Dougie could've possibly wandered , stopping every person he saw and asking frantically about a kid with a blonde, messy hair and lots of piercings. But no one had seen him.
Tom sighed and walked back to his truck, just sitting against it for a minute. The phone in his pocket began to ring, and he calmly pulled it out and opened it. He was getting strangely used to the thing. "Any luck?" he asked quickly.
"Tom, where ARE you?"
"Uhh... just a few towns over..." he said, looking around for a sign to tell him where he actually was.
"Where's 'a few towns over'?" she asked slowly.
"Uhh... I'm not really sure, to tell you the truth. At least five towns over."
"TOM! I want you to get back here NOW!"
"But– "
"No! There's no way he could've gotten over there!"
"I... I know." Tom closed his eyes and let his head droop.
"I want you to come back here right now. I'll call his father in a few hours. If Dougie went anywhere he probably found his way back to California."
Tom sighed and lifted his head. "Alright... I'll head back."
"Good, I'll see you when you get back."
"It could be a while..."
"That's fine... just get back here."
"Yes ma'am." Tom sighed again and closed the phone. Dropping it back in his pocket, he looked around himself one last time, before climbing in the truck and turning it around. He drove slowly with one hand on the wheel and the other propped against the door in order to hold his head up. He couldn't honestly say he'd slept in the past three days. He would occasionally doze off, but he never slept for more than thirty minutes, and it wasn't very restful. It seemed like whenever he closed his eyes he was reliving that kiss, and now this.
It took all of his might to keep from stopping in each and every town he'd already passed through, just to see if maybe someone had changed their mind, or Dougie would show up. But he knew Dougie wasn't there. He didn't know where he was... but he knew he wasn't in any of those towns. But he had to do SOMETHING. Doing nothing would've driven him even crazier than he already was.
It was ten in the morning when he finally got back to the house. He didn't like that he was there; he should've been where Dougie was, saving him. He walked into the house, grateful for the fire at last.
"Tom?" Joanne asked, drying her hands on a towel and walking over to him. "God, I was getting worried about you," she told him, wrapping her arms around him tightly.
He hugged her back half-heartedly. "I'm sorry I didn't find him..."
"Oh, honey... it's okay, it's not your fault. You have NOTHING to be sorry about," she told him, pulling back and staring seriously up at him.
"I don't know what the hell's going on... it has never been this cold before," he continued, shoving his hands in his pockets.
"How cold does it normally get here during the winter?" She asked, trying to keep his mind off of Dougie.
"Normally around minus ten..."
"Have you eaten anything lately?" Joanne asked after a short silence.
Tom shook his head. He hadn't been, and he still wasn't hungry. "I'm not hungry..." he said.
"Oh, come on, you have to eat..."
"But I'm not hungry..."
"Well... will you at least take a cup of coffee?"
Tom looked up at her and smiled, giving her a nod. "Yeah," he said quietly, before making his way slowly into the kitchen. He looked around in a few of the cabinets before finally finding a coffee mug. He pulled it down and took it over to the coffee pot, filling it to the brim and taking a drink. It was strong, just the way he liked it. He held it before his face for a moment, taking in the smell of the coffee grounds.
"Oh shit!"
Tom turned and looked at Joanne with a raised eyebrow. "What?"
"Oh, I don't have a fucking calling card! I can't call Dougie's god damn father!"
Tom allowed himself a smirk and a half laugh. "You know, he's a lot like you," Tom told her.
"Who? Dougie?"
Tom's smile faded and he nodded his head. "He curses like you."
Joanne's face went red, and Chris snorted into his coffee cup. Tom laughed quietly at the scene he'd just caused.
Tom shook his head at her. Just like her he thought. He hated closing his eyes because Dougie's face popped into his mind. He could picture every little crevice in his face. Why? He didn't even realize he'd studied his face that much.
"Well, like I was saying..." she started, breaking Tom out of his daydream of Dougie's face. He looked up at her, his eyes drooping a bit. "I have to go find a phone card somewhere, because we don't have long distance... so I'll be back," she said, grabbing her coat and purse from the coat rack that was placed near the front door.
"I'll go with you," Chris said. "Tom, you gonna be alright here?" he asked, turning to look at him.
Tom nodded before taking another sip of coffee. "I'll be fine."
"You should really get some sleep," Joanne told him, flashing him a half smile.
Tom nodded just to make her happy. "See ya later," he called to them as they walked out the door.
He watched as their car pulled from the driveway and drove away. Slowly he walked through the house with his cup of coffee. He needed somewhere to be alone, where he could think. He knew Dougie needed him, he just didn't know where he would be. With a sigh, he walked out through the back door, his body beginning to shake when he left the warmth of the house and went outside. It still felt as if the temperature hadn't risen. According to the news it was negative 40, and it wasn't supposed to come up much for a few days. "Hopefully this is the worst..." he said quietly to himself as he walked out to the barn.
He was afraid he was never going to see Dougie again. He walked slowly into the barn, sipping carefully at his coffee.
He climbed slowly up the ladder, closing his eyes when he reached the top and pulling himself onto the floor. He pulled his knees up to his chest and wrapped his arms around himself, trying to conserve body heat. He didn't think he'd ever been so cold in his life as he was at that moment, and it only made him worry about Dougie even more. His mind was slowly coming to conclusions about Dougie and the way he felt about him, but it was a very slow, painful process. His mind was driving him nuts with all of his contradicting thoughts.
"God damit," he muttered, picking up a stick and tossing it somewhere behind him. It hit something, and he flinched and turned quickly, making sure he hadn't broken anything. And that's when he saw the back of the person he'd been looking for. "Dougie!" he yelled, crawling over to him quickly. He touched his shoulder and shook him gently, but Dougie didn't move. "Dougie?" he asked, turning him over carefully. Brown eyes weren't met with blue ones, as he'd hoped would happen. Instead he was met with Dougie's pale face and lips so cold they'd turned purple.
"Hey, Dougie... wake up," Tom said, touching his cheek gently. But almost as soon as his skin had touched Dougie's, he pulled his hand away. "Oh my god, you're so cold," he said, his voice struck with worry. "Wake up," he continued, shaking Dougie a bit more vigorously. His eyes filled with tears and he pulled Dougie onto his lap, patting his cheek repeatedly. "Please... wake up." Dougie's face tipped to the side and his eyes stayed closed. "Dougie, you can't..." Tom moved Dougie's face to face his again, rubbing his cheek gently. He'd never touched anything so cold. "Wake up! Wake up! Come on, wake up! Please... just, wake up..."