Sanderson looks at his father and smiles.
"Yeah, Pop, good! We even went out that way for Halloween one year, do you remember? I talked you into it. The Caped Crusader and the Boy Wonder."
Pop looks out through the windshield of Sanderson's Subaru, saying nothing. What is he thinking? Or has thought flattened to nothing but a carrier wave? Sanderson imagines what that might sound like: a flatline mmmmmmmm. Like the old test-pattern hum on TV.
Sanderson puts his hand on one thin topcoated arm and gives it a friendly squeeze. "You were drunk off your ass and Mom was mad, but I had fun. That was my best Halloween.
No comments:
Post a Comment