Project Pallid by Hoskins Christopher

Author:Hoskins, Christopher [Hoskins, Christopher]
Language: eng
Format: azw3, mobi, epub
Publisher: Innovative Ink Publishing
Published: 2013-03-13T16:00:00+00:00

“So, why so glum, chum?” My dad chided, as I poked my mashed potatoes with only playful interest.

“What do you mean, Dad?”

“Well, you’ve barely touched a bite, and when your sister’s not here, we rely on you for our entertainment. Your mom and I know each other all too well already,” he laughed

“Darryl, you be careful,” Mom interjected from her end of the table.

“Relax Martha. I’m not going there.” He looked up from his half-eaten plate and shot her a wink.

“Guys, I don’t know where there is, but I really don’t think I want to go there. Can you finish this … this … whatever it is,” I pointed my fork back and forth between them, “later on, when you’re alone or something?”

“Well, well. Aren’t we feeling feisty tonight, favorite son of mine.”

“I’m your only son, Mom.”

“Well, if I had others, you’d still be my favorite,” she affirmed.

“And if you had others, you’d be saying the same things to them that you’re saying to me. It’s cool though, go on.” I spoke short and dismissively, in a way that was unfounded and that didn’t go unrecognized.

“Damian,” Dad addressed me sternly, “what’s going on here?” In a rare incident, unseen before, he set down his fork mid-meal and turned his attention to me. “This attitude isn’t like you, and I don’t think I like it very much on you. It’s not the young man I raised. If something’s bothering you, say it. You know there are no judgments handed down at this table. Whatever’s weighing on your mind, you need to get it off your chest.”

I looked to him.

I looked to my mom, who’d also laid her utensil to rest.

And then I unleashed a torrent of things that I knew and suspected about Catee’s dad. I told them about the way I’d seen him treat her, and how he was the guy who ran over that dog, and that my dad had already met him at the garage. I described how he kicked me out of their house the first time he found me there (my parents rationalized and argued in support of him on that one, and I would have agreed, had it not been for the tone, the look, and the manner in which he delivered his eviction). I told them about how he’d been spending day and night at the hospital, working way past hours on who knew what, and I tried to summarize as best I could, all those papers we read in his office. About how he’d found some sort of white blood cell enhancer—something that could’ve helped cancer patients—but that it was taken from him, twisted, and torn apart. And I told them about Catee being caught after we broke into his office, and that it was the real reason I’d left school that day—to check on her and to make sure she was okay.

My parents did little more than nod and provide one-word interjections during the length of my rant, but by the time

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