Double Dysfunctions

Chapter Two

"James, get up, son!" Tyson Comer yelled up the stairs to his ten-year old son, who was supposed to be at school by 7:30 a.m.

          It was now 7:00.

          "James!" the father hollered up the stairs, this time with the added tones of urgency and warning reverberating deep within his voice.

          And sounding as if a million miles away, came James' reply from the next floor up: "All right. All right! I'm up! Are you happy now?"

          Tyson rolled his eyes at his son's smart-ass response, and then called back, "Not really!" Chuckling to himself, Tyson continued to prepare for another long grueling day at the Detroit Police Department. As captain of Detroit's Special Victims' Unit, Tyson had seen things that could make even the most tenured sex-offender specific psychiatrist have nightmares. And with this important job came the equally important task of making absolutely sure that his family was safe.

          Part of that job obligated Tyson to teach his son the dangers that any citizen of the United States was capable of.

          Clomping noises coming from the direction of the stairs let Tyson know that his son was en route to ask him something. And about ten seconds later, he was proven right.

          "Hey, Dad, do you think it'd be cool if Jaxon came over to spend the night tonight? You know, since my birthday's tomorrow?"

          And as James fully expected, his father hesitated not even for a split-second. "Absolutely not."

          But because James knew his father so well, he was already prepared with a back-up argument to persuade him. "But, Dad! I can be responsible! I know how to behave when you have to work second shift! Can't you at least give me the benefit of the doubt? I'll do anything to prove this to you. Please, Dad, please!"

          Knowing that his son would hold his breath until he got the answer that he wanted, Tyson took a deep breath and then let it out heavily. "James, this is your only chance to prove to me that you're as responsible as you claim to be. Got it?"

          James was ecstatic. His emerald-green eyes blazed as he jumped up and down. "Thanks, Dad, thanks!"

          Happy to see his son so excited, Tyson attempted to bring James down a notch or two. "Okay, okay, son! You got your answer. Now seriously, James, go finish getting ready for school! Otherwise, you're going to be late."

          "Okay, Dad!" James practically screamed, as he gave Tyson a kiss on the cheek and a fleeting hug before dashing back up the second-story flight of stairs to his converted-attic bedroom.

          Finished with his ritualistic morning hygiene, Tyson walked slowly out of the master bedroom's bathroom. He checked himself in the full-length mirror that completely covered one wall of the master suite before he headed for the stairs, calling for his son as he went.

          More thudding sounds indicated that James was ready to head out as well.

          By the time James got to the back door that led into the attached garage, his father was already revving the engine of their brand-new crimson-colored Mercedes-Benz.

          James locked the door and carefully double-checked himself, just as his father had taught him, then turned and slid into the sleek interior of the new sports car.

*        *        *

          Ten hours later, after having to endure eight hours of private-school learning and two hours of volleyball practice, James rode home with his best friend, Jaxon D'Auria. His older brother, Jasper, had graciously offered to take James home, even though it was fifteen minutes out of the way of the usual route Jasper took home.