Ricky stared at the ceiling again. It kind of reminded him of the New Year, when he had slept past eight-thirty. He rolled onto his side to see the clock.
Two a.m.
He really didn't want to sleep. The sweat was getting out of control, and so was his weight drop. Despite his best efforts, he still lost more weight. At this point, he was 103 pounds. That was less than what Cindy weighed. Ricky wouldn't be that surprised if his weight was going to drop to below a hundred pounds during 1985.
Ricky crawled out of bed and put his gown on. He slowly opened the door to his bedroom and went down the stairs, being as silent as possible so he wouldn't wake anyone up.
Once he was in the kitchen, Ricky went into the pantry. He was going to eat something, except he wasn't sure what. Finally, he took a cookie from the cookie box. It was one of the cookies Mom made, and Ricky could still remember having to go into the corner for eating too many.
There was also something else he saw on the kitchen counter: his dreidel.
Taking it, Ricky went upstairs, eating his cookie as he walked. When he was in his bedroom, he sat down on the bed and studied it.
He'd had it for as long as he could remember. He had it for so long he never asked Mom or Dad specifically when he got it.
In the morning, Ricky thought, I'll ask.
YOU ARE READING
Ricky
FanfictionWhat would have Ricky Helton Wilson's life have been like? Starts in 1953 and ends in 1985. Feel free to read. Feel free to comment. And certainly feel free to vote.
