24: Parents Just Don't Understand

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     The first inkling that Critock had that something was wrong in Kyle's house was the oppressive silence that seemed to fill the air from the moment he walked in. With the insanity of the last few hours, he hadn't given any thought to Kyle's family life, and was operating under the uneducated assumption that he would be alone tonight, which was the ideal situation. He knew that plan was dashed when he finished the rather long trek from Shanna's hill to the house, and found an unfamiliar truck sitting in the driveway. A quick search of the unresponsive teenager's brain discovered the truck belonging to Kyle's father. Not expecting to have to act like the boy again until the next day, he steeled himself, searching for something, anything in Kyle's mind that would help him. He glanced around for Tom, but true to his word, the wisp had made himself scarce to allow Critock to make his own mistakes. He figured he had retreated to Kyle's room, to wait for him there so that they could speak in a more private atmosphere.

He slowly opened the door to the aforementioned quiet, and waited. He knew it must be past whatever curfew that had been established for the boy, but he wasn't going to be the first one to make a sound. He quietly moved Kyle's body past the door, closing it gently. The silence hung still, and he allowed himself a moment to hope that Kyle's father would have already went to bed, or went out, or whatever humans do. This hope was eliminated when he saw the older man sitting with a bowl in front of him of some kind of noodle concoction. Their eyes met, and Critock saw a look of concern and slight sadness instead of the anger that he had expected .

Critock broke the look first, which seemed to prompt Kyle's father to speak. "Out with your friends?"

Still not prepared, he stood still as though struck dumb, and nodded.

"Wish you would have left a note. Seems like there's a lot of crazy people out there tonight." Kyle's father absent-mindedly stuck a fork into his bowl, and took a small amount of food to his mouth awkwardly.

"Um...Sorry." Critock said, and finally saw the bowl sitting in front of a chair across from the man. Realizing suddenly what was expected of him, he moved to the chair, sitting down and immediately assessed the food. It resembled a few dishes from a lot of different planets that he had been to. "Noodles, the universal constant." He muttered, wishing that Tom had heard him.

"What?" Kyle's father raised his head from his bowl quickly, as though he was waiting for Kyle to say something.

"Oh! Um, nothing." There was nothing Critock hated more than being in a situation that had him off guard. There was no chance of anything to remove himself from this situation that wouldn't send Kyle into an insane asylum or at the very least prevent him from attending school the next day and continuing with the plan. He gingerly stuck his fork through a noodle, testing both the consistency of the pasta and the abilities of the strange utensil. The silence returned, and it was so maddening it forced Critock to fill it. "Just thinking to myself."

"Well, you know best when it comes to yourself, I guess." Kyle's father was quiet for a moment, before nodding towards the television, which Critock now realized was on and showing a news report. With a start, he realized the report was showing pictures of Phelps' smoldering house.

"That's where your teacher lives, isn't it?" Critock could only nod as he watched the screen. The volume was on but low, and the scene changed to an interview with William Phelps himself. Critock could just barely make out what was being said, Kyle's father could tell that he was straining, and brought up a remote control from the table, tapping the volume button. A few seconds later, Critock could actually follow the conversation.

"...No idea what happened. I came home from practice just about an hour ago, and, well...." Phelps' voice sounded tired. "Fire Department says it's a gas leak, but it have you ever seen a gas leak look like this?"

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