ignition and
turned it. The engine caught, and the van coughed to life. “I’m going home and
going to sleep.”
“Let me drive you. You’ll get in a wreck
or something.”
Jason gripped the steering wheel—one hand
at ten o’clock, the other at two, just the right way. The standard way. Then he
dropped his hands into his lap, and they sat there like two dead spiders, each
short three legs. He stared at his face’s reflection in the mirror.
Under his breath, he said, “You won’t tell
me anything. Just like my dad.”
“Huh?”
“It’s always someone else telling me where
I need to go. I can’t do this, so I have to do that. And you keep pushing me
further down that way.” He slammed his hands on the steering wheel. “You’re
just like everyone else. Shoving me into a hole that doesn’t fit!” He balled a
fist and punched the dashboard.
Len said nothing.
Jason gripped the steering wheel again and
put the van into drive. She moved away from his window, and he drove off without
looking back.
***
Explaining the scratches and dents wasn’t
hard. When Tom asked, Jason said a crazy old mage mistook him for an undercover
paladin and tried to scare him with Sentry Vase shards. Tom shivered at this.
“God—Sentry Vases suck. Dunno why they ever made ‘ em .
Don’t worry, Jason. I’ll get ‘ er fixed.”
Then Jason went home. He tried to sleep,
but didn’t have much luck. He didn’t go to school the next day. It was
Thursday, and he had Tara Engel hanging over his head, but not quite on his
mind. If that happened, the liquid stone would come. When he went to work,
despite the free time he’d had from staying home, Jason felt exhausted. He went
to Silver Moon early so he could nap on the couch in his father’s office. He’d
done it before, and Mr. McKinney didn’t mind, especially since he was usually
walking the store.
He found his father’s snoring bulk passed
out at his desk. Jason straightened his work shirt, then turned to leave, but
stopped. He glanced back at his father. Sleeping at his desk—Jason couldn’t
remember Mr. McKinney ever doing such a thing. Jason tip-toed out of the
office.
Before he closed the door, his father
said, “Buddy?”
Mr. McKinney sat up in his chair, rubbing
bags the color of purple smog under his eyes. The stress marks on his forehead
looked more like cuts, and the slight double chin hanging from his neck
reminded Jason of a turkey. “Are you going out to deliver?” said Mr. McKinney.
“Yeah.”
“All right. Don’t forget we have a new
recruit. Make sure she feels at home.”
“Right. Okay.”
They stared at each other. Jason’s slight
annoyance boiled into anger. Why? His father hadn’t done anything. But that was
exactly the point.
Mr. McKinney frowned. “Are you okay,
Jason? Have you been getting enough sleep?”
“Kind of, not really.”
“Oh, well. Is it...Have you...been
having...?”
“No. I just haven’t been sleeping well.
That’s all.” He tried to sound sincerely carefree. Instead it came out clipped,
annoyed bordering on mad. His father only nodded. “I’ll be okay,” said Jason.
“I’m not going to fall asleep at the wheel.”
Mr. McKinney laughed at this. “Well, I
hope not. If you worked at a desk like I did, you could afford that every once
in a while. Anyway, you should get going.”
“Okay. See you at dinner tonight?”
“Afraid not, buddy. Got a few things I
need to work on. If you want, I’ll give you money and you can order in.”
“Oh. Okay.”
Jason walked out, shutting the office door
behind him. He looked down at his stomach, the slightly round paunch pushing
out from under his shirt. This would make the fifth day in a row he’d eaten
take-out. He slid his hands down his slight jelly belly, then headed for the
garage.
***
Jason let loose a yawn as he entered the
garage. As if on cue, feet padded toward him. He recognized the heavy, echoing
footfall of Tom, who rounded one of the vans,
turned it. The engine caught, and the van coughed to life. “I’m going home and
going to sleep.”
“Let me drive you. You’ll get in a wreck
or something.”
Jason gripped the steering wheel—one hand
at ten o’clock, the other at two, just the right way. The standard way. Then he
dropped his hands into his lap, and they sat there like two dead spiders, each
short three legs. He stared at his face’s reflection in the mirror.
Under his breath, he said, “You won’t tell
me anything. Just like my dad.”
“Huh?”
“It’s always someone else telling me where
I need to go. I can’t do this, so I have to do that. And you keep pushing me
further down that way.” He slammed his hands on the steering wheel. “You’re
just like everyone else. Shoving me into a hole that doesn’t fit!” He balled a
fist and punched the dashboard.
Len said nothing.
Jason gripped the steering wheel again and
put the van into drive. She moved away from his window, and he drove off without
looking back.
***
Explaining the scratches and dents wasn’t
hard. When Tom asked, Jason said a crazy old mage mistook him for an undercover
paladin and tried to scare him with Sentry Vase shards. Tom shivered at this.
“God—Sentry Vases suck. Dunno why they ever made ‘ em .
Don’t worry, Jason. I’ll get ‘ er fixed.”
Then Jason went home. He tried to sleep,
but didn’t have much luck. He didn’t go to school the next day. It was
Thursday, and he had Tara Engel hanging over his head, but not quite on his
mind. If that happened, the liquid stone would come. When he went to work,
despite the free time he’d had from staying home, Jason felt exhausted. He went
to Silver Moon early so he could nap on the couch in his father’s office. He’d
done it before, and Mr. McKinney didn’t mind, especially since he was usually
walking the store.
He found his father’s snoring bulk passed
out at his desk. Jason straightened his work shirt, then turned to leave, but
stopped. He glanced back at his father. Sleeping at his desk—Jason couldn’t
remember Mr. McKinney ever doing such a thing. Jason tip-toed out of the
office.
Before he closed the door, his father
said, “Buddy?”
Mr. McKinney sat up in his chair, rubbing
bags the color of purple smog under his eyes. The stress marks on his forehead
looked more like cuts, and the slight double chin hanging from his neck
reminded Jason of a turkey. “Are you going out to deliver?” said Mr. McKinney.
“Yeah.”
“All right. Don’t forget we have a new
recruit. Make sure she feels at home.”
“Right. Okay.”
They stared at each other. Jason’s slight
annoyance boiled into anger. Why? His father hadn’t done anything. But that was
exactly the point.
Mr. McKinney frowned. “Are you okay,
Jason? Have you been getting enough sleep?”
“Kind of, not really.”
“Oh, well. Is it...Have you...been
having...?”
“No. I just haven’t been sleeping well.
That’s all.” He tried to sound sincerely carefree. Instead it came out clipped,
annoyed bordering on mad. His father only nodded. “I’ll be okay,” said Jason.
“I’m not going to fall asleep at the wheel.”
Mr. McKinney laughed at this. “Well, I
hope not. If you worked at a desk like I did, you could afford that every once
in a while. Anyway, you should get going.”
“Okay. See you at dinner tonight?”
“Afraid not, buddy. Got a few things I
need to work on. If you want, I’ll give you money and you can order in.”
“Oh. Okay.”
Jason walked out, shutting the office door
behind him. He looked down at his stomach, the slightly round paunch pushing
out from under his shirt. This would make the fifth day in a row he’d eaten
take-out. He slid his hands down his slight jelly belly, then headed for the
garage.
***
Jason let loose a yawn as he entered the
garage. As if on cue, feet padded toward him. He recognized the heavy, echoing
footfall of Tom, who rounded one of the vans,
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