Deceitful Wings

Chapter One - Gah!

            "Wait a second, did the radio stop working?" Nick said. He reached forward and turned a knob, waking the radio's display. "Oh, it's just a Pink Floyd song."

            "That seems right," his dad replied. "There. I can hear the first wind noise, rain noise, or whatever it's supposed to be. And don't joke about that, I thought this old Subaru was finally dying on us."

            Nick patted the coffee stained dashboard. "Well, it does only have 160,000 or so miles on it, or something like that."

            "Yeah. But I don't think this old biddy is going to die anytime soon," his dad said.

            Nick sat farther back in his seat, resting his knees on the dashboard. Surprisingly, his dad didn't keep talking. Usually he would talk until he was interrupted, and then continue talking afterwards, no matter what the length of the car ride was. Nick took it as a present, looking out the window. Outside, a gas station flashed by, then several large, new buildings waiting to be leased. His father didn't comment on those either, somehow. Taking it as an extension of the present, Nick closed his eyes and began to daydream.

            "Oh, my client's tickets for the baseball game tonight worked out," his dad said.

            Of course the present was too good to be true. "What time is it?" Nick replied.

            "Five-thirty. But there were only two tickets, and you know how much of a baseball nut your mother is."

            "True. So, I'll be alone for a couple hours?" Nick asked, slightly disappointed.

            "Yeah, probably for five hours or so. We're going to eat dinner afterwards at that nice place down the road. Sorry about that, though. I would've taken you along if I could've."

            "No, it's fine."

            "Okay," his dad replied, becoming his usual talkative self. "Collie Mabel died yesterday, by the way."

            "Who was she?" Nick asked. 

            "It's a he, actually. I listened to him growing up. He was an old famous folk singer. And they really seem to be dropping like flies lately. First Reggie Lee, the great jazz artist, then Murph Drogendy, the guy who perfected the Hanger dance, and now Collie."

            "Yeah," Nick replied again. He survived the last six minutes of the trip with only one-word answers, having learned that no matter how bored he sounded, his dad would keep talking. The only escape route was to get out of the car, which was impossible in the middle of the highway. It was possible at home, though.

            By the time his dad had stopped the car, Nick already had the groceries in hand and was halfway up the gravel driveway. He only slowed down once he reached the door to the house. It was green. It's green color always irked Nick. At least the silver doorknob matched the rest of the house. Nick opened the door quietly, in case his mother had a patient. The downstairs of their house doubled his parents' dental practice.

            Sure enough, Nick heard the sound of an electric drill in the workroom to the right. "Mom, we're home!" he called, kicking his flip-flops on top of the pile of shoes by the door.

            "Okay, honey! Tell your father to come in here and help me with Mr. Mortensen's dentures, okay?"

            "Sure, mom." Nick replied, reopening the screen door for his father. "Did you hear that, dad?"