The Coming | The House of Voices #2

Five - B&E

B & E

October:

When I finally snuck into the alley where I’d left him, it was clear that Parish had used up the last of his patience waiting for me. As I peered into the darkness looking for him, a strong hand reached out and pulled me into the shadows – not gently, I might add.

“What happened?” He demanded before I could even get a word out.

I narrowed my eyes at him. “Okay, ouch.” I pried his anxious fingers off my arm and rubbed it as if it hurt. It didn’t, but I was going to milk it a little. “Would it kill you to be a little gentler?”

“What happened?” He repeated. “Didn’t my dad let you in?”

I sighed. There went my idea of breaking the news to him delicately. “He wasn’t there.”

“What do you mean he wasn’t there?” He asked, even though I was it was pretty clear he knew what I meant. I felt another twinge in my gut – the second one in just a few minutes. I complained about my parents a lot – mostly because I was angry that they never believed me and that they were never around. And the few times they were around was to take me to shrinks. But in Parish’s case, his parents had been around – at least when he was younger. From what I could tell, they’d been a pretty tight-knit family. Until one day they just weren’t. Both his parents had abandoned him, essentially. His mom took off one day and his dad sort of withdrew from him. And as bad as my relationship with my parents was, I knew I had it easier than Parish did. He knew what he’d lost. I’d never had it in the first place. I’d lost nothing.

Seeing the look on his face now, I wished I had better news. I wished I could have said, “Psych! Your dad’s inside. He’s just waiting for me to come get you.” But I couldn’t. And that made things so much more difficult.

“He’s not home. He… He left the state.” I told him quietly. The hurt that flashed in his eyes was so unbearable that I had to look away. He may not have shown it, but it was clear that he secretly hoped his father would be around, waiting to help him.

“Any idea where he went?” His voice sounded thick: like he was trying to swallow a bunch of bitter pills.

“Your neighbor—“

“Mrs. Tyler?”

“Yeah, Mrs. Tyler said that he’d gone to San Francisco. To visit your aunt.”

I didn’t think it was possible, but he actually brightened up at that bit of news. “Hold up, say that again.” He said, stepping closer to me. His eyes were shining with something that looked a lot like hope. But that couldn’t be right. Optimism wasn’t Parish’s thing was it? He was more the cynical brooder type, wasn’t he? But no, even without that unfamiliar look in his eyes, his words were covered with it. “He went where now?”

“San Fran.” I repeated unsurely. “To visit your aunt…?”

“Wow.” He said, blinking in wonderment. Okay, as much as I was happen to see him not looking so sullen, even I had to admit that his sudden jump from Grumpy Parish to Hopeful Feltman was a little crazy.

“Is this a good thing?” I asked, more than a little confused. I didn’t see how it could be. His father was our one hope of getting through this entire mess and we just found out that he’d gone to another part of the country. Really. How anything about that could possibly have been a good thing was beyond me.

“I think so.” He said, running a hand through his hair, still looking a little awestruck. “I think so.”

“Um… How?”