Todd by Adam J Nicolai

Author:Adam J Nicolai [Nicolai, Adam J]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Lone Road Publishing, LLC
Published: 2015-12-15T08:00:00+00:00

49

The blue flickers are more common now. Alan sees them at least once an hour, whether indoors or out, even in the bedroom with all the lanterns blazing. He notices three of them just during the 20-minute walk home. He hasn't mentioned them to Todd, who is still pretending they're not there. Maybe Todd thinks if he ignores them, they'll go away.

"Get ready for bed," Alan says as they get back to the house. He restarted this old tradition, not because it matters, but because he got tired of Todd pestering him about it. He couldn't care less whether the kid brushes his teeth or puts pajamas on, but the boy's whining was driving him crazy. Daddy, you never tell me to get ready for bed anymore. Daddy, you never read anymore. Daddy, I really liked it when we used to read those Ma and Pa books.

Daddy, Daddy, Daddy. If Alan had called his own father Daddy, the man would've kicked his ass.

The headlights draw closer.

"I'm hungry," Todd says when he comes back. He's buttoned his pajamas wrong; one side of the shirt is hanging longer than the other.

"Get something to eat."

He goes to the freezer, pulls out a bag of bread, and takes one of the frozen pieces. Alan used to tell him to let them thaw. He doesn't anymore.

"Do you want one?" Todd sounds hopeful. Amicable. Alan remembers that he was a nice kid, back when there were other people to be nice to. A good person. Alan used to be proud of that.

He manages a small shake of the head, and they go upstairs.

The boy still snuggles up at bedtime, still burrows into Alan's chest, trying to find comfort. Alan has none for him. The kid should know that by now, but he's just an organism, after all, acting on instinct like a bird flying south. The bird wouldn't know that the whole world is a wasteland now; it would fly south anyway. Alan watches the boy curl up next to him like it's a scene from a nature documentary, and hates himself.

If he thinks life is so worth living, if he thinks there's actually anything left here for him, maybe I should leave him here when I go. I'm probably just depressing him anyway. He can feed himself. He'd be better off without me.

It makes sense. The black car's lights grow brighter yet.

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