12
“But I saw the thing before Davey went Yellow Submarine!”
The whole family sat around the dining room table. Nana and Elise were there also, partaking in the Christmas morning feast. Heaping platters of pancakes, sausage, bacon, and eggs made a circuit around the table. Tubs of soft butter sat next to syrup bottles, and crystal plates lay decked with fresh berries of all sorts.
Only two people were not hungrily tucking in. One was Brian, who had returned to form and was sketching in a brand new pad he’d received that morning. The other person was Jeff, who was trying – unsuccessfully – to prove to the others he wasn’t insane.
“I saw a lump under the paper, like something was racing underneath – ”
“Hush now, Jeff, and eat. You’re probably just lightheaded,” Granny Jobson said as she loaded his plate with eggs.
Grandmother Tanner fanned herself with a napkin. “You should be ashamed, giving me a scare like that.”
“It’s true, I swear!” Jeff cried.
Davey chomped on a sausage. “I don’t think you’re crazy, Dad.”
Jeff looked down to his right, where his son sat atop a stack of phone books again. “I don’t want to hear anything from you! You’re the reason they think I’m nuts!”
“And I quote,” Elise said, “`But I saw the thing before Davey went Yellow Submarine.’ Unquote.”
Jeff glared at her. Elise smiled back sweetly.
Davey held up his little finger. “Pinky doesn’t think you’re crazy, either, Dad. But Modine’s not so sure.”
Jeff pointed at Davey as he addressed the table. “Look, you’re going to call me crazy, when his finger’s talking to him?”
“Better be careful, Jeff,” Granny Jobson advised. “His finger’s the only one here defending you.”
“Why would I believe his finger?” Nana asked. “Maybe his finger’s crazy, too.”
“He’s five years old. He’s allowed to be crazy,” Elise said.
“There comes a time in every man’s life, Jeffrey, when the mind just isn’t what it used to be,” Grandfather Tanner said. “No need to be ashamed of it.”
“I’m not crazy – I just thought I saw something, that’s – ”
Across from Jeff, a tiny hand reached from beneath the table and grabbed a sausage from a plate. It then ducked out of sight.
“DAVEY!” Jeff yelled.
“What, Dad?”
Jeff looked down and to his right. There sat Davey, chomping away at his eggs.
Jeff looked across the table, at the platter of sausages.
He looked to his left. Brian was drawing placidly, totally engrossed in his sketch.
Jeff looked around. Everyone else was eyeing him suspiciously.
Jeff looked back at Davey.
“Did you…”
“Did I what?” Davey asked.
Jeff shook his head, totally perplexed. “Nevermind.”
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Copyright © 2008 Darren Pillsbury. All rights reserved.
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