Frost Fire

Chapter Ten

                                                       Chapter Ten 

“Who is it, Dad?” Drake trailed along down the hallway, following Dad’s heavy footsteps. He wished his footsteps were that powerful. Then maybe Dad would pay more attention to him.

Dad turned a corner, and Drake ran to catch up to him, stomping a little to louden his footsteps. He nearly ran into Dad as he turned the corner, which wasn’t a good thing. Dad didn’t like it when he got in the way. So he stumbled back and asked again, “Dad, who is it?”

“What have I told you about calling me that?” Dad snapped back. “You may call me ‘Sir’, or ‘Father’ if you must. Not ‘Dad’. That’s a name toddlers use, and you’re seven years old, Drake. Start acting like it.”

He wasn’t seven yet, but Drake wasn’t about to correct Dad about his age. He’d just get called ‘insolent’ and then get hit. Drake wasn’t sure exactly what ‘insolent’ meant, but he had learned it was a cue to duck.

“So?” Drake said hesitantly.

“Use a complete sentence, Drake,” Dad said. “You sound like an idiot when you don’t.” He continued down the hallway, not bothering to slow his pace for Drake. But Drake was used to that, and he knew better than to complain.

“So,” Drake said, jogging alongside him, “who is it?” He hoped that was a complete sentence. He didn’t want to sound like an idiot in front of Dad.

Dad stopped, and Drake almost ran into him again. He needed to stop doing that; he’d get a beating if he kept getting in the way.

Drake stumbled back and looked up. Dad stood in front of a door. And not just any door, it was the door, the one Dad kept going in and out. Drake didn’t know why Dad went in there so much, but he did know someone was in there. Someone secret. Dad didn’t want him to see who.

“Please?” Drake begged. Then he quickly added, “Please can I see who’s inside?”

Dad growled. Drake didn’t like it when he did that; it usually meant someone was about to get hurt. And he didn’t want to get hurt. He’d already gotten smacked earlier today, and punched a couple times yesterday.

But then Dad opened the door. Drake grinned and looked down to hide it. Dad didn’t like grins. Well, he just didn’t like feelings, and Drake knew from experience that grins were in the ‘feelings’ category.

“Get inside,” Dad barked. But Drake didn’t move fast enough—he couldn’t, he was too busy rubbing at his face to get the grin to go away—so Dad grabbed his shirt collar and yanked him inside. Which hurt. But Drake knew better to yelp or cry, so he just gritted his teeth. He’d been half-expecting the pain, anyway. He always was. 

Dad slammed the door shut as soon as they were inside. It took another second or two until he let go of Drake’s shirt. Then Dad strode into the center of the room, his footsteps falling even heavier. Drake stayed by the door. Dad always came out of the Secret Person Room looking angry. It didn’t take much to get Dad angry, but that didn’t stop Drake from being a little scared. Because he didn’t know who this Secret Person was, and what if they were trying to hurt Dad? That would definitely explain why Dad came out angry. Drake licked his lips. What if the Secret Person tried to hurt him?

Then Drake saw her. She was a girl, younger than him, but old enough to be fun to play with. Was that why Dad had let him in the Secret Person Room? Was he supposed to keep this girl company? Because it’d be fun to play with her, but he really wanted to see the Secret Person, too.