Champy

Part Eight

Now it is ten years later and I am standing in my kitchen with my wife and son, watching her slide the Tupperware with the apple slices and peanut butter into a brown paper bag, as he prances around the kitchen with his Champ Day t-shirt that he got from last year's foot race.

"Are you not excited?" she asks me.

"It's Champ Day. You know what this day means to me. You know that I don't like Champy, and that he is evil and should not be considered our town mascot after what happened. You also know that I wouldn't take the parade away from our son because of what has happened in my past. I'm sorry if I'm not as excited as you are. I hope you understand," I explain.

"I do. You're the strongest man I know, Lucas," she says as she walks over and gives me a sweet, tender kiss on the lips. "Thank you for doing this for me. For Alex."

I nod. "I love you both so very much," I tell them as I pull them both in for a group hug.

"Daddy, don't get all sappy. It's just Champ Day," Alex says as I hug them.

One day I'll explain to him what happened with Freddy, when he's old enough, when he's ready to hear it. But for now, I want nothing but his happiness, and if this parade brings him that, then I will be more than happy to bring him. He doesn't need this day to be associated with death like it is for me. Not yet.

"Is your mother going to be there this year?" my wife asks me, and I shake my head no.

"I don't think she will be. It's a tough day for her to celebrate. It's harder for her to bring herself into the environment and enjoy it like everyone else still," I explain.

"That's a bummer. I really wish she would go," she says.

"So do I," I say. "Hey, let's have a good parade, shall we?"