The Between Years

place?”

    “ I love it here, but I never get to see Mommy anymore. Sure feels like a real long time. When do I get to see her again?”

    Randy's eyelids drooped. He sucked in a deep breath and exhaled. How he would explain everything that had happened between he and Carol in the last few months-hell, the last few months-seemed like an impossible task. He couldn't come to grips with it himself much less try and explain it to a four year old. Would he disapprove? Would he be angry or resentful? Judging by how Kenny leaned over the table, Randy knew he would need a snappy answer.

    “ I'm gonna get to see Mommy again, right?”

    “ 'course you are.”

    “ How soon?”

    “ Real soon. Mark my words. Just as soon as I let your mom know where you are, that you're safe, and make sure she's ready for it. Then I'll have her right over here so you two can start having tea parties.”

    “ Promise?”

    “ Promise.”

    “ Pinkie swear?”

    “ Sure.”

    Kenny lifted his arm, stretched his pinkie finger to Randy, and Randy hooked his around it. He noticed an immediate loss of appetite, a tingling feeling in his jaw, and beads of sweat at his temples. He hadn't lied to the boy, he thought. Not really. He'd just made a promise which he knew would be harder than hell to keep. Adult problems could stand in the way of his promise and Kenny wouldn't understand that for a long time. Randy would think Carol a saint if she was willing to buy into what was happening right now. How he would explain it to her was another matter entirely.

    Randy stood up and stretched then realized what a powerful impact sitting in the little wooden chair had made on his back. He took another cursory glance about the room and stopped at the bookshelf. He flipped through the titles, stopped at a copy of Love You Forever by Robert Munsch, and slid it out. Tears filled his eyes when he beheld the baby on the front cover, and he choked them back. To Randy, only a moment was needed to make a dream come true, and he meant to capitalize on it. He remembered the night he'd fallen asleep with Kenny, reading that book and he swore no time had passed.

    “ Hey little buddy,” Randy tousled his hair, “Why don't you come on over to the rocking chair and we'll read a story together? You know, just like old times?”

    Kenny's eyes widened and he scrambled towards the rocking chair. Randy hoisted Kenny onto his lap and was astonished at how heavy he was. This was the same kid he had once stretched out on the inside of his arm. His bones felt rock solid. Randy noticed that he was barrel-chested and figured he'd be a real scrapped one day. But most of all, contact kept Kenny from being a dream. He opened the book to the first page and begun reading.

    Randy started by using his storytelling voice, gentle and pausing at the end of each sentence. Kenny rolled the back of his head on Randy's chest. He'd captured the child with words the way he'd always hoped to do. He stopped at the end of each page to show him the pictures, which Kenny glanced at, and Randy supposed he was simply engrossed in the book.

    Randy closed the book halfway. When he considered his lost opportunities, he couldn't believe he could retake them now. Kenny curled his legs up, yawned, and glanced up at Randy. He barely realized he'd stopped reading. Randy combed his fingers through Kenny's hair and restarted the story. The words and story were meaningless to him. Having his son back was all that mattered. His prayers had been answered and he hoped to God nothing would take this miracle away from him.

    When he finished the story, and noticed Kenny's eyes had closed, his mouth hung open, and his limbs had rested, he closed the book. Then he scooped the boy in his arms, carried him to bed, tucked him in, and kissed his forehead. If only to let that moment last a lifetime, he thought. And he looked forward to continuing this journey. But for now, he was bound by a promise, and he meant to make good on it, but he knew he must make his story believable. But how? He had to account for the last three-and-a-half years of Kenny's life, how he'd grown so fast, where he'd spent those between years, and-

CHAPTER 10
    Randy's eyes snapped open. The lights to Bupa's room were still on, but he was still in bed, above the covers, with a half-ring of sweat stamped around the collar of his t-shirt. Maybe it was only excessive drool expelled after having fallen into too deep a sleep, he thought. But he