The Between Years

of options.

    “ I know you're mad at her,” Kenny said. “And I know you say mean things to her.”

    “ I've never said anything mean to her.”

    “ You hung up on her didn't you? And you wouldn't talk to her when she tried to call you back.”

    Randy felt a million ice needles stab him all over his body and for some reason he began to sweat. If having to defend the things he might or might not have said wasn't bad enough, he would now need to remember that Kenny could see all. His were like the eyes of God and Kenny would catch his every move.

    Kenny had taken his conversation with Carol the wrong way, he thought. He had hung up on her and cut off the phone connection to make sure he didn't say anything nasty. If he had, chances were excellent that he wouldn't be able to take it back. He longed to explain it to Kenny that way, but he worried Kenny wasn't in an emotional place to understand. Randy took comfort in knowing that Kenny had been in the house the entire time, but where? Everywhere, he decided. If that were true, he would need to keep his guard up at all times.

    “ Everything's going to be fine, I can promise you that much,” Randy tousled his son's hair, and Kenny pulled back, like Randy's fingers dancing on his head hurt him. Randy felt blindsided given how affectionate he'd been last night-or four years ago when he thought about it. Was he angry because of Carol, or was it only a phase? He wondered. What else had happened in those four years that could have changed his love for his dad? In any case, Randy felt like he was walking on eggshells.

    “ I'm going to come through on my promise,” Randy said. “It won't be easy, and it might take me a while, but I'm going to do it.”

    Kenny nodded, as if he'd heard that promise a hundred times before.

    “ Anyway, it's getting a little late, buddy,” Randy said. He didn't mean to cut the visit so short, but he wanted to keep from digging himself into an even deeper hole.

    “ You're making me go to bed already? What did I do?”

    “ Nothing, pal, nothing at all. It's just that you're a growing, energetic boy and you need plenty of rest.”

    Kenny left his trucks in the middle of the floor and Randy felt too nervous to ask him to stow them away properly. He stood in the corner, back turned to Randy, while he changed his pajamas and crawled into bed. Randy picked up the book he'd been reading to him this week. Apparently, he'd left off a quarter-way through Tales of a Fourth Grade Nothing by Judy Blume. Though Randy wished he could have been even more advanced, he was glad Kenny would at least let him read him a bedtime story.

    “ I can read that to myself too,” Kenny said. “But sometimes I like to close my eyes while you read to me so I can imagine I'm in the story.”

    Randy pulled the covers over his son. “You go right ahead and do that.”

    When he finished, he kissed Kenny's forehead, which the boy didn't mind. Then he switched the light off, closed the door and escaped into the hall. Whatever was going on here, Kenny was omnipotent, and clearly possessed the upper hand over him.

    The rules had changed, he knew that for sure. He remembered how he couldn't expect to get away with one cross word to his father as a boy. Not that Kenny had actually been cross with him, he decided, but his father had always been in charge. Randy himself had felt naturally in charge with Kenny until he realized he couldn't slip one tiny lie past him and that he would be accountable for his every action. He'd never expected Kenny to be aloof with him either, but he decided to accept it. He wanted to make good on his promise because he couldn't live with Kenny's scorn. More than anything, he hadn't expected to be Kenny's prisoner.

CHAPTER 17
    Randy heard himself snort as he struggled to open his eyes. His head felt like a boulder, and his left arm felt tingly, paralyzed, because he'd slept on it except he didn't know for how long. His mouth was dried out, like it had been filled with cotton, his tongue feeling like it had been trapped in wet cement, and he resisted the powerful urge to piss. For a moment, he rested his head on the pillow again to steal a few extra moments of sleep before deciding it was pointless.

    When he jerked the covers back, he noticed that he'd sprouted an erection that Carol used to call his 'morning wood' before pinching it between his pajama bottoms. Just thinking about it made him laugh even though her noticing it