Aliens on Aventine Hill

A Good Kid [Part 7]

As the two of them played cards at the kitchen table, Gray tried not to think about what had happened when he'd returned to the booth. Sometime in his absence a waiter had brought the bill, but only when Gray had reappeared did his father quickly snatch it away and stuff it with bills. Gray had just turned away, too tired and bewildered to fight his father anymore.

"Ah, ah, ah," his father caught him. "You sure you wanna play that? Aren't you missing something?"

Gray shook himself out of his reverie and stared down at the cards spread across the table. His mistake was obvious. His father cracked a grin—C'mon, Kid, you're not even trying! –but Gray just corrected it and slipped back into deep thought.

"You alright?" his father prodded him again when he failed to respond to what Gray realized was a game-changing play. "You've got that thousand-yard stare."

"Sorry."

Gray spied Roman hovering in the living room doorway, and he forced a smile onto his face, "Hey there. Bedtime?"

The little boy nodded heavily, and Gray rose to tuck him in. His father stood too, but Roman recoiled, shrinking back behind the doorframe and clutching his stuffed wolf tighter.

"I've got it," Gray turned on his father, "It's getting to be my bedtime too."

Martin's expression, "Ah, well, why don't you at least come back down to finish our game?"

Gray hesitated a moment. There was something in that request that wasn't quite right. It peeked through the mask of hurt on his father's face and sowed ice in Gray's stomach. He didn't think it wise to refuse, "Sure... it won't take you long to beat me anyways."

"Not the way you're playing," his father laughed, and, more than a little disquieted, Gray followed Roman upstairs.

Roman slipped beneath the soft blue comforter and pulled up over his shoulders so that all that poked out was the top half of his face, and even that was mostly hidden by the army of stuffed animals.

Gray frowned worriedly as he tucked the blankets in around the small body and kissed his brother's forehead, "Everything'll be alright. I promise."

Roman squeezed his eyes shut, "... go away."

"Who?" Gray eased himself down to eye-level. "Dad?"

Roman stared bleakly at him.

"It's just for tonight, alright?" Gray told him. "Just until we can some things sorted out. I know he... I know I... He might be different now, Roman."

"He is."

Gray froze, the ice in his abdomen creeping up his chest and stinging his lungs. A strangled smile seized his mouth, "See? Isn't that a good thing?"

Gray felt a spark of anger catch beneath his ribs. I can't do this alone anymore. Their father had been right about that. I want so badly not to be alone in this anymore. He scrunched his eyes shut at the thought and felt that little bit of fire snuff out, "Isn't that good?"

Roman's eyes were blisteringly cold, but Gray just looked away, "It'll be alright. You'll see. You know I'd never let anything bad happen to..."

Roman burrowed deeper beneath the comforter. There was that ache again, reverberating in his sternum, as if the ice had finally reached his heart. It shuddered as he tried to apologize.

"I love you."

Silence.

He winced and raised a hand to the light switch, "On or off?"