Generations

Generations Part 1, Chapter 5

Emit didn't have many memories with Pop in them, so the few he did have took on an almost sacred importance, like when Emit gave up sleeping with the light on.

Growing up, he always had to have the hall light on at night. Audree had complained that it kept her awake, shining under the crack at the bottom of her door. Their mother made attempts to wean him, introducing nightlights or giving Emit a flashlight for under his pillow. For a night or two it would seem successful, but it always ended with Emit thrashing and screaming in his bed.

The night before Emit's first day of high school, the square of light that kept him feeling safe while he slept flickered off. Emit woke to see Pop's gaunt silhouette stretch across the hall floor.

Pop's footsteps treaded gently to the bathroom across from Emit's room. Emit didn't have a full view from his bed, but he could hear the low scrape as Pop took the top off the toilet reservoir.

Emit stepped quietly from his bed to the door. Pop was leaving the bathroom when he caught sight of Emit, half hidden in shadow against the doorframe.

"You shouldn't be up," Pop whispered as he approached Emit's room.

"I heard you. I got up." Emit voice was small and weak, not quite awake.

"Midnight snack. Your Mom doesn't know I've got any of this left in the house," he said, a wet bottle in his hand. "You're not going to tell her, are you?" Toilet water slid from the glass onto the carpet.

Emit shook his head. Pop beamed, his smile reaching toward his temples.

"That's my boy. Sometimes I think you're the best friend I got."

That night, Pop brought Emit with him to the garage. Pop drank deeply from the bottle, pouring shots for Emit.

As the bottle emptied, Emit told Pop about high school, how scared he was to go to new classes, full of new people. Pop told Emit about his most recent job. A car dealership where his boss made him small with lectures and demerit systems. They watched each other's eyes become wet glass as morning approached.

At breakfast, Audree told their mother about the bottle in the toilet. She must have seen it from the crack in her door.

Their parents were still fighting when Emit and Audree left for school. The shouting was familiar, like an air conditioner running in the next room. He walked onto the bus hung over, but feeling brave.

That night was the last time Emit asked for the hall light on. He told his mom he was in high school, now. Too old for that stuff.