Little Dipper

Mother

Gideon sighed as he set the phone on his bedside table. "It's already that time?" He mumbled.

"Gideon? Are you still awake?" His mother asked outside his door.

"Yes, mother." He looked over at the door.

"May I come in?" She asked.

He hesitated, but nodded. "Yes, mother."

She opened the door and came into the room, approaching his bed. "How is your hand? I'm so sorry I haven't been doing well today."

He shook his head. "No, I was happy to help you." He looked at his right hand, which was bandaged. "It's nothing a soothing salve and time won't cure. I can still use my hand just fine."

She sighed and sat on the edge of his bed. "You're just so young, and so much is put on your shoulders. With your father's early dementia and my health problems, you have had to suffer so much the past week." She reached towards him and noticed he looked at her hand warily. "Have I...hurt you?"

Gideon bit his lip, glancing to the side. "...It's just part of your hysteria. You don't remember it, I'm sure."

"No, I don't." She gently wrapped her arms around him. "Oh, Gideon, I'm so sorry that I have made you frightened of me."

He sighed and leaned into her hold. "It's...it's not your fault, mother. "

She gently kissed his forehead and lay him back down. "I'm sorry, I'm keeping you up."

He shook his head. "No, it's alright. We don't often get chances to talk like this."

She smiled and held him close to her, laying down next to him. "Can I...stay like this? I don't remember the last time I held you."

He nodded. "I...I don't mind."

She kissed his temple and rested her head next to his. "Good night, Gideon."

He sighed softly and closed his eyes. "Good night, mother."

–

Gideon woke up to find himself alone. He looked at the alarm clock and saw it said 6:00am, then noticed his mother was speaking outside his room. He climbed out of bed and went to open it a bit, looking out. His mother was on the phone, and sounded worried.

"Yes, it's been a constant. I thought it might go away, but I'm worried that I have something serious. Should I come in?" She asked. She fiddled with the cord as she listened. "Yes....alright, I'll come in, then. I'll be coming with my brother, my husband isn't feeling well. Yes. Alright, then." She hung up and dialed another number before waiting for it be to answered. "Preston? I'm sorry to bother you so early, but I've been feeling very ill lately and I need someone to take me to the clinic. Bud isn't feeling well, and Gideon, well, he can't drive..." She sighed. "Yes, I know you have the party tonight. It won't take long. Please?"

Gideon gripped the doorway, listening to her with concern. Had she gotten worse? He knew she'd been throwing up a lot lately, but wasn't it just the flu?

"Alright, thank you. I'll be waiting." She hung up and went to gather up her purse. Then she headed for Gideon's room and noticed him at the doorway. "Oh, Gideon. Did I wake you?" She asked.

"Are you okay?" Gideon asked. "Do you need me to go with you?"

"Preston is on his way." She knelt down and kissed his forehead. "I'll be fine, you can go back to sleep."

He nodded, watching her walk to the door. "Mother...let me know how it goes, okay? I'll keep my phone on."

She nodded. "Go to sleep, Gideon."

Gideon looked to the side. "How's father? Have you checked on him?"

"Not yet, could you do that? Oh, shoot, this dress has a rip. I can't be seen in this." She headed back to her bedroom to change. Gideon followed her and stood in the doorway, looking at his father.

Bud was fast asleep, propped up by pillows with a bottle of medication sitting on his bedside table. Gideon's mother finished changing and moved past him to go out to the living room and wait. Gideon watched her go and then looked at his father again.

"Hn...who's there?" Bud asked, stirring from his sleep. "Who is that?"

"It's me. Gideon." Gideon said, walking over to the bed. "Your son."

"Gideon...oh, yes. Son." Bud looked at him. "Have you gotten taller?"

"No, father. I'm still the same size I've been." Gideon shook his head.

"Mm...where is your...your mother? Agatha?" He looked around.

"She's going out with Uncle Preston." Gideon told him. "I'm sorry if I woke you."

"What time is it?" Bud looked at the alarm clock. "Gideon, you should go back to bed. It's too early for you to be up."

"Yes, father." Gideon turned to go.

"Father? Who's that? I'm Bud Gleeful. Who are you, little one?" Bud asked as Gideon left the room.

Gideon pursed his lips tightly and headed back to his room. He shut the door behind him and made a beeline for his dresser. He knelt down and opened the bottom drawer, pulling out the Memory Gun box from inside it. "I want to forget..." He whispered, taking it out and looking at it. "I want to forget...I can't bear to remember when they've forgotten..." He held the gun in a tight grip and then lowered it back into the box, tears slipping down his cheeks. "I can't forget. I need to remember, because they can't. But I want to forget..." He closed the box and pushed the drawer closed, laying down next to the dresser. "I want to forget it all...how could I do that to him...I swore never to use it for selfish reasons...I'm so sorry, father..."

He drifted off, tears slipping down his cheeks. A few moments later, his bedroom door opened and Preston stepped inside with Gideon's mother.

"What is he doing on the floor?" Preston walked over and lifted Gideon into his arms. "Oh, child." He carried him to the bed and lay him down, wiping at Gideon's eyes with his handkerchief. "Don't cry, boy. You are of the Northwest line, and Northwests do not cry." He pulled the blanket up to Gideon's chin and tucked his handkerchief back in its pocket. "Let's go now, Agatha. I have to be back by noon." He headed for the door.

Gideon let out a soft, shuddering sigh as Preston closed the door.