Double Karma Points Bonus

"What am I suppose to do?" Newt asked himself out loud. "I'm no good at talking to people."

Fredrick Singer stood up, righting himself. Realizing he needed his boat oar, the drunk man let loose an intelligible string of curses. Leaning over, he picked up his makeshift metal hammer.

"Please, Mr. Singer, don't do that!"

"Leash me alloon!"

Swinging the metal oar, the pinging sound reverberated across the lake once again. Fredrick staggered back after the blow to the partially buried shovel. Newt couldn't be sure if the cracking sound of ice happened or if he imagined it. Watching the crazed man ready another blow, the introverted teen knew that until help arrived, he had to keep Fred distracted.

"Hey, crazy man! Did losing your hot girlfriend drive you insane?"

Startled by Newt's words, Fred whiffed on his next strike, falling face-first into the snow-covered ice.

"Oh, hell," the teen remarked, knowing he caused that hard fall. With Finn's father laid out face first on the ice, Newt knew he had a short bit of time. His brain kicked into analysis mode, scanning the ice between the dock and Mr. Singer's location. About a dozen feet away from him, Newt noticed another shovel lying on the ice. Its wide scoop made it evident as a snow shovel. Putting two and two together, the smart student speculated that Mr. Singer first attempted to use the snow shovel, but it proved impractical for his purpose. Abandoning it, that must have been when he returned to the storage section of the boathouse, making a mess inside. Although difficult to see, Newt thought the shovel sticking out of the ice might be a yard version used for digging.

"Lille sheet!" Fred cursed at Newt, pushing himself up into a sitting position.

"Uh, sorry about that, sir. But it's better than falling through the ice," Newt yelled out to the mad man while he studied the ice closest to him. He could see where Fred chopped down into the frozen lake in multiple spots before moving further out. Luckily the ice by the dock looks thick, but how is it out by him?

"Fugg off!"

"I can't do that, sir. Please, can't you wait until Finn arrives?"

"No! Ish neesh pyment!"

"Uh, what did you say?"

"Ish neesh pyment!"

What the heck is he talking about? Did he say the ice needs payment? That makes no sense. Did he really go crazy?

"Did you say the ice needs payment?" Newt double-checked.

"Yiss!"

"Um, alright...but what does that mean?"

"Jessh! Ta ish kinnut deenid. Moost heff sicklvice."

I have no clue what he just babbled. Newt peered over his shoulder, but no help had shown up yet. "Could you please repeat that, sir?"

"Ta ish kinnut deenit. Moost heff sickelvice!"

Newt replayed the words over and over in his head. He wished that he had his tablet and that there were services to translate drunken ramblings. Noticing that Fred had reached his feet again, the teen's time to decipher slipped away.

"Okay, so I think the first part you said is that the ice can't be denied. Is that correct?"

"Yiss!" Fred angrily said, waving his hand at Newt in annoyance as he searched for his oar.

"And it must have a sacrifice?"

"Yiss! Mosst ta taday!"

"Okay, but why?"

The teen's words stopped Fredrick cold, the oar halfway into the air.

"So hitey siff."

Fred's said the last words so softly with sadness that Newt could tell this led to the heart of the man's dangerous actions.

"Could you please say that again?"

"So hitey ta siff."

Newt's deciphering of the sentence had to wait as a shout drew his attention.

"Dad!"

"Oh, my gawd!"

"See, and you wouldn't believe me," Austin said to Finn and Peyton as they raced toward the dock.

"Dad, what are you doing?"

"Lessh me alloon!"

"Told you he's drunk as a skunk."

"Shut up, Rusk," Peyton snapped.

The new arrivals watched as Finn's father swung the oar down on the long wooden handle of the shovel, emitting another pinging sound.

"Oh, fuck," the lone woman in the group groaned. All four watched as Fred slipped, hitting the ice with his back.

"Dad!" Finn exclaimed, starting to dash forward.

"Finn, you can't go out there!"

"It's my dad, Pey. I have to." Reaching the end of the dock, the sandy-haired son prepared to scale down. Instead, he felt a sharp tug on his arm.

"Finn, you can't! It's too dangerous; you're drunk."

"What am I supposed to do? Sit here and watch him die? I don't even know why he's out there."

"To keep Whitney safe!" Newt exclaimed, finally understanding Fred's last sentence. "That's what he was saying."

"What?"

"Your dad's been going on about how the ice needs payment, it won't be denied, and needs a sacrifice. I couldn't understand the last part until now, but he's sacrificing himself so Whitney will be safe from the ice," Newt explained. "I guess he thinks the ice is owed a life because Sean saved Whitney."

"That's fucking stupid, Denton. He can't be that crazy. This isn't--"

"Put a sock in it, or I'll do it," Peyton threatened her brother's rival.

"Sheesh, alright," Austin said, holding his hands up before mumbling. "Hey, Austin, thanks for busting your ass to get to the cabin and tell us."

"Dad, stay there and don't move. Please!" Finn commanded. Surprisingly, he got back a response that sounded like an agreement.

"Finn, you can't go out there, not after what happened earlier. I almost lost Sean; I can't lose you," Peyton pleaded, eyes glistening.

"But what else can I do?"

"I have an idea," Newt spoke up, nodding to himself at his plan. "Keep him distracted."

"We'll do that," the blonde informed her brother's close friend. "The others should be here soon, Finn."

"Okay, but if I have to, I'm going out there."

It took Newt longer than he expected to find the two necessary pieces of equipment for his plan inside the storage area. Mr. Singer had done a number on the area. Walking back outside, he saw that Lana had arrived, along with her parents and the Locketts. They all stood on the wooden dock, calling out to Fred, and discussing what to do. Yet, it was Jeff's actions that spurred Newt to run faster than he ever ran in his life, or the best he could do, while dragging his equipment.

"Mr. Lockett, don't do that! Stop!" the teen yelled, watching as the mountain of a man walked gingerly on the ice. The same section of ice that Fred had tried to chop into in several different attempts. "Mr. Singer used a shovel there too!"

Jeff realized that at the same time as his weight caused slight cracking sounds, halting his attempt.

"Jefferson Lockett, you get back here right this instance," Gabriela ordered her husband. Both she and Mrs. Stratton wore only long robes over their nightwear, having rushed out at the news of what Fred was up to. "Now!"

"Okay, okay," her husband responded, moving backward.

"What are we going to do about Fred?"

"Should we call the rangers?"

"Someone needs to go out there."

"And what; drag him back, kicking and screaming? That's probably the worst idea?"

"Anyone have a taser?"

"Okay, that's the worst idea."

"Um, I grabbed some rope," Newt revealed from the shoreline. "Does anyone know how to tie knots?"

"That's a great idea. Way to keep your head on straight, Newt," Clive complimented him, reaching for one of the two ropes. "I'll tie this to the metal ring down here. Finn, can you tie the two ropes together?"

With Finn scrambling to tie the two ropes together, Rachel asked Newt to repeat what Fred had said to him.

"So, Fred wants to sacrifice himself to save Whitney?"

"Yeah, he said the ice demands payment," Newt recounted, then he remembered another part of the ramblings. "He said it must be today."

"Today?" Gabby repeated.

"Oh, no!" Rachel shrieked in horror. "It's after midnight!"

"So what?" Lana asked.

"That means it's December 30th," Finn stated ominously, looking up from the ropes. "The tenth anniversary of Mom dying because of an icy road."

"Oh, Finn," Peyton moaned.

"That means Fred's serious. This isn't some drunken game," Clive declared. "We need to get out there and stop him. That ice can't hold much longer, or he might go further out onto the lake."

"Who's going to go?" Gabby asked as Jeff climbed back onto the dock.

"Me. He's my dad," Finn announced.

"No, Finn, you've been drinking," Peyton insisted again. "You can't do it."

"Pey, I think we've all been drinking."

"Can I talk again?" Austin questioned. "Your dad's tiring out there. When we first saw him, he was hitting it more often. Now, he's slowing down and falling over more."

"Does he have a coat on?" Lana questioned.

"No, and it's freezing out here," Gabby said, chattering in her thin robe.

"Austin, go to your room and grab some blankets," Rachel ordered her daughter's boyfriend. "We'll need them once Fred's safe. And Finn, you are not going out there."

As the group argued, they didn't notice as a person grabbed the tied-together rope line and climbed down the dock. Knowing the direct path to Mr. Singer was filled with possible danger, the would-be rescuer made a wide arc to the side of Fred's original route.

"What are you doing? Get back here!" Peyton screamed.

"It has to be me, Peyton. I don't weigh much, and I'm sober," Newt listed his rationale for doing the unthinkable. Wrapping the rope loop around his shoulder, he shifted to walking straight out onto the lake.

"Be careful!" Rachel cautioned him, ever the worried mother.

Once he reached the same distance as Fred, Newt began to head across the lake toward him. Lost in his drunken ramblings and efforts, the increasingly winded man leaned on the oar while catching his breath. Entirely unaware of Newt's ice trek, Fred rocked back on his heels, nearly tumbling over, in surprise when he finally noticed the teen at around a distance of fifteen feet.

"Whosh yu?"

"I'm Newt. You know the person you were talking to before," he responded, motioning back toward the dock.

Fred followed his hand, staring over to the shore and the others. "Air tay comb frum?"

"Uh, they came from the cabin a few minutes ago, sir. Everyone is concerned about you."

"Ish feng."

"I don't think you're fine, Mr. Singer. You look cold and exhausted."

"Feng...almust ding," Fred replied, pointing to his handiwork.

Newt felt a shiver of fear race up his spine upon seeing that only the shovel's wooden handle now appeared. Several long, zigzagging cracks evidenced the fissures in the ice that extended from the buried shovel blade.

"Sir, I don't believe this is a good idea. Killing yourself won't save Whitney."

"Shutch ep! Nut kijjing museff, sickelvicin museff!" Fred harshly spat back, lifting the shovel slightly before his strength gave out.

"Please, this isn't sacrificing yourself; it's killing yourself. Think of Finn. He's already lost his mother and--"

"Shutch ep, shutch ep, shutch ep!" Fred screamed, swinging the shovel in Newt's direction. Fortunately, the teen stood far enough away that the irate, clumsy man missed.

Crap! I think he's seeing two of me too.

"Dad!"

"Oh, my gawd! Fred, stop that!"

"Mr. Singer...Fred, please, you need to stop," Newt started but hesitated before what came next. "I understand the need to sacrifice one's self to protect others. My dad--Vince Denton, the firefighter--did that many years ago. Do you remember him?"

"Tink su," Fred replied after a long minute of thinking.

"He died saving others in danger, immediate danger. Whitney's not in immediate danger. She's in the hospital, far away from this ice, making a full recovery."

"No! Hitey sill damgerr."

"No, she's not. And if she is, you can be there in person to help protect her, not out here. Wouldn't that be better?"

"Mebee."

"I think maybe it would be better. For you, for Whitney, and for Finn," Newt softly said, shrinking the distance to about five feet between them. Aware of the metal oar in the man's hand, Newt focused on making eye contact with Fred's bloodshot eyes.

"Mebee...dun nu."

"I know it's hard to talk about this, Mr. Singer. I understand having lost my dad. I think about him every single day, so I know you and Finn think of his mom. But we each still have one person left that we love; I can't imagine not having any. So please don't leave Finn all alone."

"I nu gudd."

"No, don't say that. Finn doesn't think you're no good," Newt replied, nearly flinching as he saw Fred lift his arm with the oar. "How about you take my hand, and we go over to Finn?"

"Dun nu."

"I do, Mr. Singer. I know that Finn wants you to be safe and at his side," Newt insisted, offering his hand.

Fred's blurry eyes attempted to focus on the offered hand while his mind worked over the idea.

"Please, put that down, take my hand, and we'll go see Finn. Okay?"

"Ukay."