I'm going to a 4-day writing conference in San Diego this week, so no updates this coming Friday. I'll be back again though to quell everyone's addiction to my website.
The alarm clock rang at five o’clock A.M. Oliver shut off the jangling alarm and immediately slid out of bed and went to the bathroom. Then he went into Preston’s room and shook the boy gently.
“Time to get up. It’s a new day.”
Preston groggily raised his head and whimpered, “It’s still dark.”
Oliver put his foot on the mattress and began bouncing it up and down to shake the boy more thoroughly.
With a sort of growling whine, Preston said, “It’s still night. Can’t you see that? Let me sleep.”
“It’s a new day. Don’t you want some breakfast?”
“I want to sleep. You’re bothering me. Go away.”
“You don’t want any breakfast?”
“Go away.”
“Huh.” Oliver left.
He dressed and went down to the kitchen and made himself pancakes, eggs, and bacon. The delicious smell filled the house. He plopped a can of food in Bayo’s bowl, and while Bayo ate, Oliver ate a stack of pancakes, three eggs, six pieces of bacon, two slices of buttered toast, and a large glass of orange juice. He washed the dishes and put them away, then went out to the bay window, kneeled, and began to pray silently with Bayo lying serenely nearby.
The lingering smell of breakfast finally got the best of Preston. He slid off the bed and crept down the stairs to find Oliver kneeling before the bay window.
“What are you doing?”
Oliver slowly turned to look at the boy. “I’m praying.”
“Why?”
“Because I need to.”
“Why?”
“I always speak with my God every morning and evening.”
“That’s weird. I’m hungry. Make me some breakfast.”
“I’m sorry. Breakfast is over. You’ll have to wait until lunch.”
“What? What do you mean?”
“Breakfast is over. Done. Finished. You’ll have to wait until lunch.”
“You got food in there. I can smell it.”
“I made only enough for myself, and I ate it all.”
“Can’t you make more?”
“The time for breakfast is past. You’ll have to wait until lunch. I thought you wanted to sleep.”
“Well, now I wanna eat. Make me some breakfast.”
Oliver stood and looked at the boy with perplexity. He spoke very slowly, quietly, and deliberately. “No. Breakfast is over. It’s ended. You are not getting any breakfast. You will have to wait until lunch to get something to eat.”
The boy’s mouth opened a bit with surprise, but his face soon hardened with resolution. “No, sir! You get in there and make me whatever you had. It smelled good.”
Oliver blinked a few times with a confused look and a chuckle. “No. Breakfast is over. You missed it.”
The boy’s face clouded with anger, and he stomped toward the kitchen. “I WANT BREAKFAST!” He opened the refrigerator door, took out some eggs, and put them on the table.
“MAKE ME WHAT YOU HAD! I WANT BREAKFAST!”
Oliver leaned on the kitchen doorframe with his arms crossed, shook his head, and said quietly, “No. Breakfast is over.”
The boy opened the box of eggs, lifted them above his head, then hurled them to the floor. “I WANT BREAKFAST!”
Oliver’s eyes widened in surprise. “What the...you can’t...”
“ARE YOU GOING TO MAKE ME BREAKFAST?”
Oliver blinked with confusion. “No. I told you. Several times.”
The boy picked up one of the kitchen chairs and threw it as best he could. “MAKE ME BREAKFAST!”
“You’re acting like an animal.”
The animal screamed in anger and threw another chair. “I WANT BREAKFAST! I WANT BREAKFAST! I WANT BREAKFAST!” He pulled out a drawer filled with silverware and let it crash to the floor.
Oliver’s eyes narrowed and his lips tightened. He left the kitchen, went to the living room, and began dialing the phone. He heard the animal destroying the kitchen and screaming.
“Hello, Mr. Ju...Bubba? Could you come over right away? I’m having trouble with a...creature. I need your help right away. Thank you.”
He went back into the kitchen. It was a shambles. Anything that was on the counters was flung to the floor. The refrigerator door hung open, all the chairs were tipped over, and the creature was in the process of tipping over the table as it growled and screamed, “I WANT BREAKFAST!”
Oliver left the sight and walked quickly out to the barn. He emerged from the barn with a coil of thick, strong rope looped over his shoulder. Walking quickly to a flagpole that stood about seventy-five feet in front of his house, he knotted one end of the rope tightly around it. He stretched the rope to within about five feet of his front porch, then cut it.
Oliver could hear the creature still destroying his kitchen as Bayo barked. He caught the sight of a cloud of dust at the edge of his property.
“Mr. June…Bubba...” he said, sounding relieved. He went into the house and entered the kitchen. The creature was busy pulling things out of the refrigerator and flinging them around the kitchen as he raged.
Oliver grasped the creature’s arm and attempted to drag him out of the house.
“LET GO OF ME!” The creature wrenched free and ran into the living room. Oliver followed and grasped the creature’s arm more firmly as he pulled him out of the house. The creature punched and kicked as he screamed and shrieked. He knocked the lamp and the picture of the pregnant woman and little boy off the table next to the leather chair. The glass in the picture frame cracked, and the lamp’s light bulb shattered.
With difficulty, Oliver dragged the creature out of the house. Then he tried to pin the creature to the ground beside the end of the rope he had tied to the flagpole. Bubba parked near the house and emerged from his truck. He walked slowly toward the two struggling figures, a bemused smile flitting across his lips.
“Whatcha got there, Oliver?”
Oliver wrestled with the snarling, spitting creature. “Well, what’s it look like? Don’t just stand there! Help me!”
Bubba looked at the creature doubtfully. “Uh, uh. I ain’t going near that thing. It’ll bite me sure.”
As if on cue, Oliver’s shout of pain rang out.
Bubba chuckled. “See? I done toldja, didn’t I? What if it’s got rabies? You gonna have to get you some of them shots where the needle’s thick as my finger and long as...well, a dang big needle.”
“Will you shut up and help me? Help me!”
As Bubba knelt to help Oliver, the creature shrieked, “Let me go! I’ll sue you! My parents will sue both of you! I’ll take your farms, your money, everything you got! Let me GOOOOOOOO!”
The two men pinned the creature to the ground.
“Now what?” asked Bubba.
“Take off his socks.” Bubba complied. “Now take off his belt and pants.” Bubba complied again with some difficulty.
“No! No! Perverts! Let me go! PERRRVERRRRTS!” shrieked the creature.
“Now take that rope and tie it around his waist. Make sure his shirt’s under it. I don’t want the rope to chaff him. Tie it firmly so he can’t slip out of it and make the knot as tight as you can.”
Bubba quickly lifted the creature and slid the rope beneath it, then sat on the creature’s legs as he tied the rope around his waist. When the work was finished, both of the men stood up and quickly backed away from the creature, who lunged at them, but was drawn up short by the tether. The creature tugged at the rope, spitting a word with each tug.
“LET...ME...GO!”
As the creature raged, the two men marveled.
“That critter ain’t got a drop of fear nor respect in him, Oliver.”
“That’s certain.”
“How’d he get this way?”
“God knows.”
“Who is it?”
“It’s supposed to be my nephew.”
“Dang.”