A Shadow Passed Over the Son

by Ryan Schneider

Parker opened the door.

  Sunny stood in the hallway, smiling.

  Parker had to look up slightly to look at her. Why was she so tall today? “Um, hi.”

  “Hi! Happy birthday!” She thrust a bright yellow package at him and threw her arms around his neck and squeezed him tight.

  He didn’t know what to do. This was their first time sharing such an embrace. He hugged her around the middle, using his free hand. He felt the full length of her body against him, warm and firm. The soft skin of her neck pressed against his face and lips, and her thick blond hair brushed his forehead. She smelled like candy and flowers, the familiar scent of her cherry lip gloss combined with her shampoo or conditioner. He felt strange, like that day sitting alone with Sunny on her bed, when she showed him her pillow book. His heart was beating hard. The only other woman he’d ever hugged was his mother, but it had been nothing like this. Did comparing Sunny to his mother make him a psycho?

  Sunny withdrew her embrace. They looked at each other without speaking. Seconds became a moment. Finally, she walked past him and he heard her say, “Hi, Bubba!”

  Parker closed the door and went back to the sofa and placed Sunny’s gift on the coffee table.

  Sunny sat perched very lady-like on the edge of the sofa cushion, her ankles crossed neatly beneath her. It seemed she sat that way a lot lately. She wore a yellow shirt and short white shorts. White high-heeled sandals adorned her bronze feet, explaining why she seemed so tall. Her long blond hair appeared shiny and neatly brushed. She looked like a spring flower. Parker sat on the far end of the sofa and looked away. He stared out the window, feeling heat flush his face, wondering if Sunny and Bubba could see him turning red. He felt so stupid around Sunny lately. How many kids went around comparing their friends to spring flowers?

  “I hope you don’t mind me stopping by,” said Sunny. “Bubba said you guys would be done with breakfast around nine.”

  How and when had Bubba conveyed this information to Sunny and why didn’t he know about it? It had probably happened yesterday, while he was out shoplifting. He looked at Bubba; Bubba winked.

  “What time’s your dad getting here?” Sunny asked with a big smile. “I can’t wait to meet him.”

  “Um, he’s . . . not,” said Parker. “He can’t make it.”

  Sunny’s mouth dropped open. “Oh, no. What happened?”

  “His flight was delayed,” said Bubba. “Right, Park?”

  Bubba stared at Parker expectantly. Parker saw such caring on Sunny’s face and in her eyes that he couldn’t bear to go along with Bubba’s half-truth.

  “Actually, he’s missing in action. They told me this morning. They don’t know where he is or even if he’s alive. They promised to keep me informed.”

  Sunny put both hands over her mouth. “That’s awful. Stupid war . . . .”

  “So I was just telling Parker that we should go get a pie and then see Colby Max, just like he planned,” said Bubba. “Don’t you think that’s a good idea, Sunny?” He looked at her with an exaggerated smile.

  Sunny didn’t say anything. Parker felt her gaze, sensing how he was handling the bad news.

  “Don’t you think that’s better than sitting here like some old fart, moping on his birthday?” Bubba continued. “Today is supposed to be the day he becomes a man,” said Bubba, with the same urgent tone.

  “I think he’s right,” said Sunny. “It won’t help the situation to sit around and worry about it. That’s not what your dad would want. He’d say to go have some fun.”

  “See!” declared Bubba. “That’s exactly what I said. Isn’t that exactly what I said, Park?”

  “Yes, that’s what you said.”

  “Well then?” Bubba leaped to his feet.

  Parker was reminded that for a kid his size Bubba was remarkably quick and light on his feet. Maybe the ballet really was helping. Parker stood. “Okay. Bring on the war mice.”

  “Now you’re talking,” said Bubba.

  Parker turned to Sunny. “Should I open my present first?”

  “Save it for later,” said Bubba. “You guys can come over to my place when we get back. My mom’s making you a cake, remember? And I’m not supposed to say anything, but she got you a present, too. It’s a good one. So let’s go. I’m looking forward to that cake and ice cream,” said Bubba.

  “I don’t have any money,” said Parker. “My card expired a week ago.”

  “It’s on me,” said Bubba.

  Parker waited for Sunny’s opinion.

  “Sounds good to me,” she said. “And I can’t wait for you to see what I got you.”

  “Me either,” said Parker. He looked at the package on the coffee table. It occurred to him that its bright yellow paper matched Sunny’s shirt.

  “Besides,” said Sunny, “Colby Max is kinda cute.”

  Parker and Bubba exchanged a horrified look.

  “Just kidding,” said Sunny. “He’s so full of himself he’s about to pop.”

  “Amen,” said Bubba. Bubba moved toward Parker’s bedroom. “Speaking of popping, I’ll be right back. Eel-fo-fair-du pee-pee. How’s that, Sunny?

  “Marvelous, Bubba,” said Sunny. “You’ll be translating L’Etranger in no time.”

  Bubba flashed his handsome grin and went into Parker’s bedroom. Parker stood near his end of the sofa, feeling funny. He hated when Sunny and Bubba spoke French and he didn’t understand. He hated feeling left out.

  “So, did you and Bubba have a nice breakfast?”

  “Not really.”

  “Oh.”

  Silence.

  “This is some strange fog, huh?” said Sunny. “National weather service said it’s not just Kingdom City, but New York, D.C., the whole eastern seaboard is covered in it. They’re at a complete loss to explain it.”

  “I hate it.”

  The sound of a toilet flushing filled the air, followed by running water as Bubba washed his hands. A moment later, Bubba cried out, “What is that?” Bubba appeared in the doorway leading to Parker’s bedroom.

  “What’s what?” Parker asked.

  “That.” Bubba pointed into Parker’s bedroom.

  “What is it?” asked Sunny. She rose from the sofa and looked into his bedroom. After a moment she looked at Parker. “Did you really have to put her above your bed?”

  A strange mixture of embarrassment and anger filled Parker.

  “I thought you said you were broke until your dad got here and re-filled your keycard,” said Bubba.

  Parker knew he couldn’t talk his way out of this. Not without lying to his friends.

  “Did you steal it?” said Bubba.

  “Parker wouldn’t do that,” said Sunny. “He could’ve been arrested.”

  “I nearly was.”

  “I knew it!” said Bubba.

  Sunny put her hands on her hips. “Parker Joseph Perkins, you didn’t.”

  “You sound just like my mother.”

  Bubba and Sunny looked at each other, then at the poster.

  “Did you really have to put her above your bed?” Sunny repeated.

  “I put my poster of her on my wall,” said Bubba. “What was I thinking?”

  “I guess that gives a whole new meaning to the phrase five-finger discount,” said Sunny.

  Bubba laughed.

  Parker didn’t find it funny. He had expected no one to understand, but he had hoped Sunny and Bubba, of all people, would, at the very least, refrain from ridicule.

  “Where’d you get it?” asked Sunny.

  “Rattle and Hum.”

  “That’s right near Sky City Hobbies and Toys,” said Bubba. “You’d better hope they don’t see you today.”

  An image of the security guard flashed in Parker’s mind. The white shirt, the gold badge. He was probably standing in the doorway of the music store right now, scanning the crowd for the punk who got away.

  “You’re not a very good criminal, are you?” asked Sunny.

  “Can we just go, plea
se?” said Parker.

  “If you don’t mind getting locked up on your birthday,” said Bubba.

  Parker didn’t laugh. He didn’t smile. He had, after all, already considered this scenario.

  “I’m sorry,” said Bubba. “Don’t worry, momma will have no trouble singing Happy Birthday To You in the joint.”

  Parker still didn’t laugh.

  Bubba turned to Sunny. “Looks like the birthday boy is all business.”

  “He’s a hardened criminal,” said Sunny, “what do you expect?”

  Parker fixed his eyes on Sunny. “Better not tell your mom.”

  “There’s lots of things I don’t tell my mom. She thinks I’m still at the mall shopping for new sandals.” Sunny pointed her toe, displaying the sandals.

  “Those are very pretty. Huh, Park?” said Bubba.

  “Uh, right. Very pretty.”

  “Mom says boys like a girl in heels.” Sunny turned and strutted toward the door. Bubba and Parker followed her.

  Parker closed the front door and stepped into the hall. He intentionally did not look at the family portrait on the table next to his Battle-Suit model.

  Chapter 10

  The Games