The Great Unknown *ON HOLD*

Chapter 2

Lucas threw his bag against the stairs and jogged upstairs quickly, trying desperately not to trip in his excitement.

“How was school today, honey?” His mother called from her desk. Lucas paused in the doorway and looked down the hall into the office where his mother sat.

“It was great, we had an English test and I think I aced it.”

“Oh wonderful sweetheart, I’m so proud of you.”

Lucas sighed and stared down at his feet; school had ended three weeks ago, but she didn’t know that. He did not have to heart to reminder of it either. It felt better to lie and make her happy than to tell the truth, and remind her of her condition.  He walked over to his mother’s desk and looked onto the screen of the computer. She was reading an article about frogs.

“What have you learned about frogs, mom?” He asked, turning his attention onto his mother. His mother smiled sweetly.

“These ones are so teeny!” She said and pointed to a picture, “the smallest ones according to Guinness.”

Lucas studied the picture, located somewhere towards the end of the article. A small frog sat happily on a quarter.

“What else do you remember?” He asked.

“I’ve only just begun reading it, silly. It’s a lovely article though; you should read it when you get the chance.” Mrs. Flynn reached up and ruffled her son’s chestnut hair playfully.

“You’ll have to tell me how it is.” Lucas kissed her on the cheek and walked back to his room.

Of course she doesn’t remember the beginning of the article, He thought.  His mother had Dementia, and had been rereading the same article for about an hour.

“Luke, why don’t you get your homework done before dinner?” Mrs. Flynn called out. Lucas glanced back at her.

“Sure thing Mom.”

“And Luke?” 

“Yes?” Lucas felt guilty about the annoyance in his voice.

“Why are you covered in paint?” Lucas’s cheeks reddened with embarrassment.

“Art class…” He yelled before closing the bedroom door behind him and therefore preventing anymore dialogue. He slipped further into his room and hovered over his bedside table.

 He checked his arm; most of the number had smeared into an incoherent blob. Lucas ripped a piece of paper out of his old notebook and picked up one of the many pens lying on the floor. He jotted down what he could remember of the number. He spoke out loud to help jog his memory.

“Three-three… four? No… three-three-five?”

Slowly but surely a number formed on the paper. Lucas smiled at the finished product and put the number on his nightstand. He sat on the edge of his bed and rested the side of his face on one palm. Now for all of the questions.

 Was it too early to call? Probably, but what if she was waiting by the phone for him? Isn’t that what girls did after giving their numbers away; or at least what Hollywood said they did? Lucas tapped the pen against his jaw indecisively. What if she wasn’t waiting? Or what if she gave him the wrong number? He could be calling a pedophile down the street or some guy in Beijing!

 He needed to watch more chick flicks, maybe then he would know what to do…

He continued to tap the pen, by now the pen had sputtered ink onto his face, but Lucas didn’t notice. He was too lost in thought