Excavate

Out of Options

"He was spotted at his old house? Are you sure it was him? And he ran off? Okay, thank you for calling. No, no, we appreciate any information we can get. We will be sure to stay in contact if we hear anything from him. Okay, thanks again, bye now."

Sharon hung up the phone as the wild rollercoaster of information from the detective coursed through her. She was still processing the surge of hope from hearing Riley was spotted before she was gutted by hearing that he'd run from the police and they'd lost sight of him.

"Was that the police? What did they say?" Brad rushed into the kitchen where Sharon sat, face sunk in her hands. She looked up in response to his panic.

"They said someone matching Riley's description was spotted climbing into his old house through a window and when the police arrived, he ran off."

"Did they say if he looked okay?" Sharon shook her head indicating the negative. They didn't say anything about whether her son was okay or if he was hurt. The call only made her feel worse, because even though she had an idea where he was, the knowledge of how afraid he was crushed her.

"I want to go out and look for him. We have an idea where he is now." Brad vented, obviously flustered as he grabbed his phone and car keys from the counter next to the garage.

"Brad, stop." He stomped toward the front closet and came back swiftly with his winter coat, throwing it over his shoulders, oblivious to her objections.

"Stop!" She shouted again, voice bouncing off the cabinets dramatically. It sent the message, because Brad finally stopped running around long enough to pay attention.

"Sharon, I'm just going to go look around the area. The police saw him there and maybe he's just afraid of the cops. He's a skittish kid." The urgency in his voice offered her a degree of warmth and comfort. She wasn't the only parent worried about Riley. But still, he wasn't considering the fatal flaw in his plan.

"Brad, he's going to be scared of you too." His face instantly darkened and the determination dropped from his posture like he was suddenly carrying an impossibly heavy burden.

Sharon hated to bring him down from his frenzy to find Riley and bring him home, but it was impossible to not address the elephant in the room. Hurting him was the last thing she wanted, but Brad clearly wasn't thinking through his plan.

Her husband sat down on a kitchen chair with a heavy thud, looking thoroughly deflated.

"I didn't even think about him being afraid of me," Brad admitted, his distant gaze growing heavy. "I just want to tell him I'm sorry and to bring him home. I didn't even consider that he probably hates me."

Sharon's heart ached for him, having felt and said nearly identical things to Brad weeks before concerning Riley. She'd been so sure her son hated her, so conflicted about bringing him back into her life, and Brad had been her anchor, grounding her in reality and making sure she didn't run away with her fears and worst-case scenarios.

"I don't think he hates you hon," she tried to comfort with a hand on his own tense fist. "We both know he's had, well, a difficult time. And the other night you surprised him and I think he's just frightened."

Brad nodded, face still drawn down in guilt at how he'd pushed Riley. Nearly thrown his shoulder into the kid. The kid who was too-thin, gangly, and at least six inches shorter than him. He wanted to be sick.

Sharon, brimming with reason and logic through the high-running emotions, raised her eyebrows at him, how she did when she was trying to make sure he truly listened to what she was saying.

"We will get him home. We will get Riley back. But right now, we need to let the police work and give Riley a chance to calm down. You'll get your chance to make things right, I promise."