High And Dry

Everything In Its Right Place

"Daaaaaaad!"

"What is it, Anthony?" Ian rushed to his son's side, concerned.

"How do you turn it on?" He pointed at the TV.

"You can't turn the TV on?" Ian frowned, "You're almost seven, buddy.

You need to learn."

Anthony sat in his father's lap and grabbed the remote, "Teach me!"

"You see this button?" Ian pointed to a big red one.

He nodded.

"You can read that, can't you?"

He nodded again, "Power."

"Good boy." He ruffled Anthony's wavy hair, "It turns the TV on."

Anthony took the remote in his tiny hands and pressed the button. The

screen flickered to life, as did Anthony's face.

"We did it!"

"No, buddy, you did it."

Anthony put his hands on his hips, "No! We did it. Together."

Ian smiled, "That's right buddy. Teamwork."

"Teamwork!"

"Did you learn that at school?"

As much as he hated to admit it, he did not want Anthony at school.

All he did was worry about his son. Anthony's mother had dropped him

off at the doorstep of Ian's dorm in college. He took Anthony in, and

sure enough, after a few tests, he found out that the kid was in fact

his. Since that day, Ian's number one priority was Anthony. His

safety, his happiness, his well-being. Everything.

When Anthony started school, Ian found that his life was awfully

boring. Besides his late night stand up at several bars around the

city, he found that he needed a real day job. He found one at a

theater down the street from their apartment. The theater was for

improv comedy. The audience would yell something at the actors and

they'd have to obey the commands on the spot. He started as the desk

worker, and he was moved up to writer, and now he holds those two jobs

as well as being an actor.

He and a group of three others held their own show, and it was

occasionally broadcasted on television. They each had their own job.

Whatever it was they were discussing, they slipped some comedy into

it.

Ian was notorious for reusing jokes in the most obvious and cheesy way

possible because there aren't many jokes you can make about weather.

"Yes." Anthony nodded, "I did learn that at school."

Ian had taught Anthony to read, write, and speak properly before

school, so Anthony was top of his class.

"Good for you." He smiled, ruffling his son's hair again, "I'm proud

of you, buddy."

"Thanks dada."