Instead of going to their house, Nicole and Peter stayed at the Pad. Nicole said that she needed as much support as she could get, and the police had said they would call there if anything was heard.
But the waiting proved to be a hard task indeed. Nicole just threw herself on the couch and sobbed into the pillows. Micky and Mike took turns pacing in front of the phone, and Peter tried in vain to comfort his wife.
Davy was no where to be seen, but no one noticed, because they were too worried about Thomas.
Eventually, minutes dragged into hours. Someone went and got dinner, and everyone ate. Or at least picked at their food.
After awhile, Nicole gave up crying. Peter wondered if her eyes had dried out. Instead she just sat, looking out the window, hoping to see a police car pull up and Thomas hop out. But there was none. Peter sighed. It was supposed to be a happy day, but this wasn't happy at all.
Night came, and the other three opened up the couch in the living room for Nicole and Peter. Nicole refused to go home for fear that the call she wanted would come in the middle of the night. Darkness settled on the Pad, and the inhabitants drifted into a restless, nightmare-filled sleep.
Thomas awoke in complete darkness. He sneezed and coughed a few times, assaulted by dust. Slowly, he began to register his surroundings. He was lying on a dusty blanket, over a hard surface. Near his head was a dusty pillow. But that was all he could tell in the darkness.
"Mom?" he asked, aloud. There was no answer. He waited a few moments for his eyes to adjust to the darkness. He could make out a few shapes, but not much. "Mom?" he called again, but she didn't answer. He hadn't really expected her to, he realized.
"Is anyone there?" he asked. If his mother wasn't there, then someone else had to be. Thomas tried to remember how he'd gotten there. He'd been at the courthouse, he remembered. But after that, he couldn't remember anything else. He'd been walking out, with his mother, father, and his uncles, but --after that, he couldn't remember anything. His head began to hurt.
Thomas tried to stand up, but his head hit against something over him. He moved himself forward, to slide off the bed, but something in front of him stopped him. He felt in front of him with his hands. He wasn't in a box, he knew because the air was circulating too much.
A light came on, brightly. and Thomas squinted in the light. A figure showed up in the light in front of him. A hand grabbed him by the collar, and he was dragged away from the dusty yet familiar surroundings.
A stiff yank on his collar was enough to make him stand up, and he looked ahead into brightness. The figure held his head up with a stiff hand.
"Do you know who I am, boy?" a voice asked. It was deep and rough. So was the man's hand. Thomas guessed by this that he must have been a worker. Some sort of man who worked with physical labor.
"Do you hear, boy? I asked a question!" the man bellowed again, shaking Thomas' head. Thomas shook his head.
"N-no," he stammered. The man laughed and released his hold on Thomas' chin. Thomas looked up at the man.
He was tall, dark haired, with brown eyes. He could see anger in those eyes. A chill ran down his spine.
"The boy doesn't know his own father!" the man laughed. His laugh was without humor. Thomas wondered who he was talking to.
"Oh, what a shame," came a disinterested female voice from the other room.
"I know who my father is," Thomas replied indignantly. "I'd like to go back home where he is," he added.
The man laughed his humorless laugh again. "Don't you know, boy? That's not your father!" He grabbed Thomas by the shoulders and shook him. "That's a wimp who pretends to be your father. I am your father!"
Thomas looked in to the angry, dark eyes. "No," he replied. "You're not."
The anger in the dark eyes grew, and Thomas found himself shoved to the ground. "You been hangin' 'round with hippies, boy," he insulted. "You don't know who you are." The voice was thickened with an accent similar to the one Mike and his mother couldn't quite hide. But this man didn't try to hide it.
The man picked up Thomas, and he was thrown back on to the bed he'd been on before. A creaking sound met his ears, and Thomas realized what had stopped him before. Bars shut in front of him. Thomas realized where he was now. In a cage.
