Another Cup

Another Cup
                by Niles

In twenty minutes Wayne Garrett would have to go hunt down his children. This was the first year that he had let the elder one, Kyle, lead his younger sister around the neighborhood without supervision. He told him to bring her back by 8:00 and it was 8:15.

Wayne had made Kyle feel as though he were receiving the responsibility as a gift, but Wayne had selfish reasons in assigning his son this task. He was pushing him to take a bigger role in the family. In a few short years Kyle would be driving. Wayne envisioned his son taking over the job of driving Lucy to her singing lessons and doing small errands for the family. This night did not bode well for his plans.

The doorbell rang and for a split second Wayne thought they were back. Before he even left his seat he was admonishing himself; they would not ring the doorbell before entering their own house. How much cider had he had to drink? Not that much. He picked up a wicker basket full of tiny candy bars on the way to the door. If he had to go get them, could he still drive? God damn it, Kyle.

The three children at the door were so bundled up in coats and other winter accessories it was difficult to make out their costumes. The smallest one had what looked like rouge on his cheeks and Wayne knew that his mother had chosen that her little boy would be a clown. His older brother had most likely chosen his own Spiderman costume. The third was a girl of indeterminate age with grey makeup on.

“Why, don’t you all look scary?” Wayne tried to sound like a friendly parent; the type that attended PTA conferences, which he in fact did; but he didn’t think he pulled it off. The kids could care less. As they muttered through “trick or treat” and Wayne dropped handfuls of candy in their decorated bags, he saw their mother standing well back on the sidewalk. She was also bundled up from head to toe. She danced from one foot to the other with her hands pressed deep in her pockets. Wayne thought she looked vaguely familiar, but could not place her. He waived in the goofy way parents in such situations do, slowly sticking his arm out and then feverishly shaking his hand. She jerked her hand out, shook it around a little, and then jammed it back down.

For a brief moment he remembered escorting Kyle in the same way. The first time his son had been very young, and there was some debate on whether to even let him take part. Wayne had walked directly behind him to every house, his hand on his shoulder which was padded from the pumpkin costume his mother had picked out. Wayne was careful to read the faces of all the adults who answered the doors that night, keeping a careful watch for the predators he was convinced must live in their neighborhood.

After closing the door, Wayne cursed under his breath to shake off the rockwellian warmth and to get back to the business of being angry. He again considered calling his wife but again could not think of a decent reason why. She was at the Halloween party for her office. She had wanted him to come, but he was happy to use the kids as an excuse and stay behind. Still, he wanted her to have a good time. He wanted her to be in a good mood when she came home, a little drunk and the kids in bed. Making her worry about something she could do nothing about did not further this plan. She also didn’t like the idea of Kyle taking on more responsibility and would blame Wayne for him being late.

It was 8:25.

Kyle filled his coffee mug with another cider, knowing that he would not be driving to find his kids. He picked up a book he had supposedly been reading. He stared at the printed words and thought of the lecture he would give his son. It occurred to him he should simply send him to bed tonight and deal with it in the morning. Kyle knew he would be more fatherly in the morning, like a modern day Atticus Finch. He also knew that Kyle would worry all night. Hopefully he would get to sleep before his mother got home.

Kyle turned the page with gusto, the paper loudly flapping, then realized it was premature and turned it back with the same energy. Yes, he would do the right thing and wait until the makeup had been scrubbed away and nights excitement dissipated before asserting his authority. He took another sip of cider and enjoyed the warmth of his own paternal authority.