Free Lunch

Part 1

Bobby killed his parents. It was during a party with some friends and family. He was a bit on the short side for his age and slightly babyfaced.

Bobby sprinted, hand outreached, then stumbled over the long electrical wire for the outdoor speakers he hadn’t seen because he was too busy staring at the flying football. His father was in the car, moving it in the parking lot, waiting for the rest of his family to get in and go home. His mother was inside, and his little sister, Jemma, stood outside, watching him pull off a final play with his friends after the party. The tug was enough to do something with the wire, a spark maybe. The car was directly over the plug. Something happened, a freak accident. It had to be.

The car blew up, illuminating the ball as it spiraled away from his outstretched hands. The flaming metal branded his hands as they tugged fruitlessly to let his parents live, so long as they escaped. His mother fell out atop him, the consuming fire eating her down to a roasted apple's crispy core, searing his mind and scorching his heart. His father smiled skeletally at the spectacle. His vision blurred. Screams and cries wafted among the smoke, like a rock concert in a nightclub, all part of the background. For how long, he did not know. A hand pulled him, a car moved him, and he found himself at home. His sister wrapped her arms around him, and they endured the long night.

Dawnlight peered through the curtains, then prodded him awake. Mind defogging and eyes widening towards normalcy, he rolled out of bed, getting ready for school. It was a onerous month, but he strove on, driven by responsibility. He gave Jemma a peck on the cheek and a shake on the shoulder, and saw her off to the school bus stop with the other kids. He left for a different one.

Bobby scribbled down answers on his math packet during lunch, finishing with a couple of minutes to spare before the bell, as he often did. He would have hung out with his friends or as a last resort, play some boring girl game with Jemma. But his parents were gone, so he had to take care of her. That meant getting ready an hour after school let out to work in Mr. Hascom's buffet.

Mr. Hascom used to be his father's friend, and Bobby helped once in a while when he wanted a little money. He started out as a dishwasher, then Mr. Hascom showed him how to prepare food, chopping it up and stuff. Perhaps he would learn to cook later. Bobby was allowed to take home any leftovers. It was amazing how much food the customers left untouched for the trash can; he came home each day with several Styrofoam boxes of food, enough for both of them. All one could eat for a flat fee would do that. So he saved money in the food department, although the free lunch menu was getting repetitive.

His parents had been only children, and two of his grandparents were dead. He knew nothing about the other two. There was no mortgage, as his parents had chosen a small house and hard work.  Now, they were careful to turn the lights off when they didn't need them, even using the same room to save money. Quick showers, turning the tap off when soaping hands, it all helped. The bills nibbled away at what money he made, then the tax would- No, he thought, there was the emergency money in the bank, just in case, the tax won't be a problem... He dared not squander the bank money, it was the only safety net he had, so it had better not tear if someone fell on it. The worst part was having so little time.

It was early dismissal in Jemma’s class, once a week.She walked home from the bus stop and an officer stepped out of his police car and strode towards her as she dug into her backpack, searching for the key.

“Excuse me,” he said. The officer had dark brown hair, mirrored sunglasses, and a bit of a doughnut-gut. “Your brother- he isn’t home from school yet.”

She shifted. “No,” she said, four reflected eyes staring back.

“Don’t worry, you haven’t done anything wrong,” he said, revealing a brilliant smile marred by a chipped front tooth. He took his sunglasses off, revealing a pair of big brown eyes. He knelt to eye level, and she let her shoulders fall, unaware they had got so high. “Actually, it’s your brother- he hasn’t done anything wrong as far as we know, but…” he heaved a sigh. “I’ll step inside for a moment and fill you in.” He motioned to open the door. Pressure sank onto her, like a leaden apron the dentist dressed her with before an X-ray.  She turned and fumbled with the key.