A Soldier's Guide to Single Parenting

The Preacher Part 8

That night Simon slept downstairs on the couch and I managed to stay sober enough to get some semblance of a good night's sleep. It was enough to get me to work on time but by the afternoon, I was flagging.

I was tempted to go to the bar after work but a shortage of cash and the prospect of David and Simon being indoors without my supervision was enough to send me home. If I needed another incentive, Simon provided it with a good meatloaf and the promise of homemade hamburgers the following day.

My stomach decided to allow Simon to stay at least until the weekend on the proviso he would talk to the social worker when she called. I still wasn't convinced she would be much help, but after what Simon told me about the religion it seemed like the only way forward.

After dinner, I sat down to call Darcy. He needed to know Simon was okay. His response was predictably blunt.

"Thank you for letting me know. I'll come get him."

"Simon doesn't want to go home just yet. He's asked me if he can stay here for a few days. I just wanted you to know he's safe."

"I want my son back here where he belongs. I already told you he's not allowed in your house and he's not to have any contact with David. You can bring him here or I'll come to you. You have no right to keep him from me."

I wasn't sure where I stood legally but I wasn't prepared to hand him over without a fight.

"He's scared of you, Darcy. He wants to stay here and I've agreed. You should call the police if you think I'm breaking the law."

"Let me speak to him?"

"He's not here. He's outside in the yard."

"Will you please bring him to the phone? I haven't talked to my son in almost two weeks. I need to know that he's okay." It seemed like a reasonable enough request and I covered the mouthpiece and asked Suzanne if she could fetch him.

"He'll be here in a minute."

"I want you to understand that this isn't anything personal but I have to protect my son. He's been baptised. It's wrong for him to see your son in this way."

"You don't need to worry; your son is perfectly safe."

I glanced up to see a confused looking Simon standing between Suzanne and David. He stepped forward to take the phone from me and lifted it cautiously to his ear.

"What do you want?" There was a long pause and I couldn't hear what his dad was saying. "But I want to stay here for a few days." He looked at me and bit his lip. "No, I don't want to."

I strained to hear Darcy's voice but Simon's expression and the way he spoke was indication it wasn't going too well. "Let me talk to him," I said gesturing to Simon who was already distraught.

"YOU CAN'T DO THAT! LEAVE ME ALONE. YOU'RE CRAZY!" I grabbed the phone off him as David comforted his friend.

"Darcy, are you still there?"

"Yes, I'm still here."

"Good. Now listen to me. I'm coming over now to get Simon's clothes. Have them ready for me." I slammed the phone down and muttered under my breath. "I'm coming to get you, Darcy."

When I looked up, Jon was standing in front of me pointing two fingers at his head to mimic a gun being fired. He must have thought I was some kind of assassin.

* * *

I nearly ran over poor Fred as I backed out the driveway and on to his lawn. I was too busy thinking about what I was going to say to Darcy to notice my elderly neighbor behind me. He was a top class athlete in his day; a middle distance runner who had made the US Olympic team in Helsinki or some other foreign place. All that training may have come in useful that day as he leapt out of the way like a sprightly teenager. I would apologize to him when I got back. I needed to get to Darcy's house before my temper wore off.