Chapter Six

As the world whizzed by, Ty stared out the back window of the car. It was a route that he was only vaguely familiar with, since he rarely traveled to his mother's. But as they passed by the elementary school, Ty was assured that it would not be long before he was home again.

“It is so weird to not go to the school when we go by it,” Ty voiced. Kirsten quickly glanced back and smiled.

“You don't usually go anywhere else, huh?” she replied. “Just school and home.”

“Uh huh.” Ty glared at the stationary building beside them as the car stopped for a red light. He wondered if there were people who went to the school even when he didn't. Apparently – or so he had heard – the older kids went to school all day instead of a few mere hours. But he didn't think that they were there on the weekends, and in that case, maybe there weren't any people in the school at all. If no kids were there, what would the adults do? It seemed like there was no need for their presence either. He thought about asking Chris later, or maybe Tristan the next time they saw each other.

“And sometimes my apartment,” Kirsten continued. “But, you know, you could always ask your father to take you out somewhere. It's not like he does much at all, I'm sure he could take time out of his busy schedule to do it.”

“I like being at home. Me and daddy watch lots of movies.” He was trying to drop a hint, though he was not entirely conscious of doing so. Kirsten rarely gave much attention to him when he visited and most often she never even gave him anything to do by himself. He would just sit, stare, and think, which was luckily an interest of his.

“I'm sure you do,” Kirsten said in a less than pleased tone. She rolled her eyes as the car began to roll forward. The building Ty was watching disappeared quickly.

Another of Ty's interests was to observe. He quite often noticed while listening to his parents that they didn't particularly care for each other. What he found interesting was that they both said the same basic things in almost the exact same tone. Chris thought Kirsten was irresponsible and payed more attention to her social life than to their son; Kirsten thought Chris was lazy and wouldn't do anything for Ty if it involved any work on his part. Ty didn't think that either was exactly true, though he was more inclined to lean in favor of Chris. Sometimes he even felt personally attacked when Kirsten demeaned Chris.

Ty chose not to speak another word until Kirsten pulled up to the apartment building for the simple reason that he just didn't feel like speaking. Kirsten unbuckled him and helped him out of the car. She seemed to think that he wasn't as capable of walking inside the apartment building by himself as he was walking into the school, apparent by the fact that she went out of her way to carry him to the apartment itself. Once there, though, she set him down and only stayed to open the door for him. He barely got the chance to say goodbye.

The room was unsurprisingly quiet, save for the occasional sound of a keystroke from Chris. He was working, definitely, but he didn't appear to be too occupied. Ty slowly walked across the room.

“Hi, daddy!” he chirped in his usual manner. The result left a lot to be desired; Chris had apparently not heard Ty's greeting. Even after a minute he still had not acknowledged Ty. It was as if he was invisible. “...Daddy?”

This time he was a pinch more successful. Chris almost immediately responded, “Hold on.” Then he went back to typing, without ever having looked away from the computer.

Ty was patient. He knew how important it was to let Chris do his work. Yet, somewhere in the back of his mind, he knew that something was off. But he didn't know what.

He wasn't sure how much time had passed, but he was suddenly very aware of the growling noise his stomach produced. He figured it would be all right to ask for some food.

“Daddy, could you-”

Chris spun, the first time he had torn his eyes from the screen, and he glared at Ty with clear anger, then barked, “Ty, I'm busy right now!” He turned back just as quickly, leaving Ty to stare at him, frightened. Chris never yelled, at least not in a serious way. Ty was unsure of what to do.

“B-But I just wanted-” he stuttered, something he should not have done judging by the way Chris tensed up.

“You know what? That's enough. Go to your room.”

Ty's eyes widened and he became even more confused by the whole situation. None of this felt right at all to him. It was like Chris had been replaced by someone else entirely.

“What?” he asked in a small voice. His question angered Chris further.

“Go to your room!” Chris hollered right in Ty's face. Ty had nothing more to say, so he gawked at Chris for a while. Chris was fuming. “Go. Now.”

Chris became blurry in Ty's vision as Ty slowly backed away. By the time he faced the hallway and began to walk towards his room, everything was distorted. He kept thinking about what had just happened, the immense animosity strewn across Chris's face, and he kept replaying Chris's harsh words in his head.

Maybe Chris was stressed out. He had a lot to deal with, having to come up with enough money every month to make sure they had a place to live with working utilities, and enough every week to make sure they had food to eat. He could understand Chris being frustrated because of something like that. But it still hurt.

His bed welcomed him with open arms, much more warmly than Chris had. He lay his head down on his pillow and stared at the wall as the tears fell down his cheeks.

Then suddenly everything was dark, and Ty was under his blanket, though he was still crying. He lunged across the bed and snatched his stuffed elephant, then he slid to the floor and ran out of the room. He continued to run across the narrow span of the hall until he was in Chris's room.

“Daddy!!” Ty urgently cried as he stopped at Chris's bedside. Though Chris appeared to be sleeping, he immediately opened his eyes.

“Ty, what's wrong?” Chris asked, obviously concerned.

“I had a bad dream,” Ty explained, his words interrupted by the occasional hiccup.

Chris propped himself up on his elbow, squinting through the darkness. “Do you wanna sleep in here?” Ty nodded, though he soon realized that Chris might not be able to see it.

“Yes, please.” Chris scooted over so there was enough room for Ty and patted the empty space. Ty climbed up and snuck underneath the covers, lying so that he was facing Chris. He squeezed his stuffed elephant against his chest.

“Do you want to tell me what the dream was about?” Chris softly asked.

“No.” Ty sniffed a few times.

“All right, then, go to sleep. You have school in the morning.” Chris closed his eyes and made himself comfortable.

“OK,” Ty answered. There were a few moments of silence following, but Ty felt like he still had something to say. “Daddy?”

“What is it, Ty?”

Ty took a deep breath, only partially relieved that there appeared to be no aggression in Chris's tone. “I love you,” he quietly said. Even in the dark he could tell that Chris smiled.

“I love you, too, kid. Now go to sleep, please.” Ty smiled as well, his sobbing subsided, and he happily closed his eyes. He asleep once more within a matter in a minutes, and as quickly as his surroundings had changed before, so when he opened his eyes in the morning it seemed as though the sun had just come out of nowhere.

Chris had already woken, had already left the room entirely. It took Ty a few moments to realize where he was, as he had temporarily forgotten about his dream and his midnight journey into Chris's room. He slowly sat up in the bed, stretching his tiny arms and yawning. His stuffed elephant was still laying beside him.

Ty dropped down from the bed and headed towards his own room, dragging his prized possession behind him. He returned the animal to its resting place next to his pillow, then turned around to find Chris standing in his doorway.

“I see you're already awake,” Chris said, leaning against the frame of the doorway and holding a dark mug in his left hand. Ty simply smiled at him. “Well, that's good. I cooked some breakfast, so it's waiting for you in the kitchen.”

“Do I have to get dressed first?” Ty inquired.

Chris smirked as if suggesting that Ty was merely trying to be difficult. “Do you ever have to get dressed first? It's probably best if you don't, that way you won't have to change again if you make a mess.”

Ty's mouth dropped open, and had he not had such good control over his salivation, he may have drooled a little. “Does that mean you made pancakes?” he asked in a dreamy voice. Chris said nothing in return, merely giving Ty a teasing look and then walking away.

Ty quickly ran down the hallway behind Chris; the prospect of having pancakes was about the most exciting thing for him at that moment. Ty loved food of all sorts, actually, but pancakes were definitely high on his list, at least for breakfast foods.

He practically shoved Chris out of the way as rushed to grab a seat at the table. Of course, he had to sit there and wait for Chris to bring him a plate anyway, so it wasn't as if his speed had given him any real advantage. He was just really excited.

Chris was luckily amused by Ty's antics. He prepared two plates for the both of them, carefully setting them on the table in order to not spill any of their contents. It was bad enough having to clean up simple foods from the kitchen floor – the syrup would be absolute murder. He was really hoping that Ty would be as tidy as possible.

Ty, however, had no intention of being careful with his food. It wasn't that he didn't care about the work that Chris would have to do to clean up after him, it was just that he was too focused on eating to think about anything else. In the end it was all right, because Ty had eaten so quickly and with so much vigor that there was never even time for a mess to be made. He lifted one forkful to his mouth, and suddenly the whole plate was empty.

When Ty had come back into the kitchen after getting dressed for the day, Chris had just swallowed the last bit of his own breakfast. As he stood up to clear the table, he thought to himself that it was a good thing he was about to send Ty off to school while he was in such a hyperactive state. Although, he did love it when Ty acted crazy. It was very entertaining to him.

Ty had brought with him his backpack, currently resting snug against his back, and was pacing the empty space in the living room in front of the television. He mostly hummed to himself, though every now and then Chris could hear him sing, “Going to school, going to school!”

Chris laughed quietly as he made his way to his room to get himself ready. It seemed like Ty was already set and didn't need any further assistance. From the safety of his room, Chris could still vaguely hear Ty singing in the distance. Again, he was marginally relieved that Ty would be gone for half of the day. Chris probably still had some last-minute work to do that he had forgotten about and would be busy with, anyway.

During the car ride home, though, Chris began to miss Ty's booming presence. Even after a few weeks, he was still not entirely used to the silence that Ty's absence brought with it. And he knew it would only get worse, as in time Ty would be going to school all day, and eventually he would have to grow up and live his own life without Chris. Chris was, of course, getting tremendously far ahead of himself, but he couldn't help it. Ty was everything to him now.

A brief glimpse at the calendar by his computer monitor informed him that he did not in fact have any last-minute work to do. He had work to do, but it wasn't last-minute and he therefore figured it would be all right to procrastinate. He would regret it later, as he always did, but that knowledge wasn't going to stop him.

Instead, he chose to wash the dishes from that morning's breakfast. This way, he wouldn't have to deal later on with the stickiness of the plates due to the residue left from the syrup. It was best to just get it done and over with. Sometimes Chris wondered why he never applied that thought to his actual job.

Chris stacked the few dishes first, then when he returned from the bathroom (the rushing of water from the faucet always made him need to desperately urinate, even if the sensation had not been there beforehand) he proceeded to actually wash them. Of course, when his hands were submerged in water became the perfect time for someone to interrupt his chore. He tried his best to quickly dry his hands and rid them of their soapiness before the phone stopped ringing. He managed to answer just as the call was about to go to voicemail.

“Hello?” he said, more rushed than he would have liked. He as afraid that it may have sounded a tad rude.

“Hello, this is Leeroch. I am speaking to Chris, yes?” the voice on the other end asked in a slightly paranoid fashion. Chris affirmed. “Good. Well, Chris, I have some fantastic news for you. Your book is a top seller.”

Chris's eyes flew open, and he would have dropped the phone had it not been for the muscles in his hands contracting instead of relaxing. While he stopped breathing momentarily, his heart raced faster than he ever would have thought possible.

“W-wow,” Chris shakily breathed when he finally regained the ability to speak. “That's... that's definitely fantastic news...”

“There's more.” Chris blindly reached behind him for one of the wooden chairs, fearing that the next bit of information might cause his legs to give out. He sat down and braced himself. “The publishers want you to do a tour. Now, it'll be a short one, nothing too fancy, but you'll be gone for about a month.”

Chris cleared his throat. A month-long tour didn't sound too short to him. “All right.”

“Everything will be arranged for you, all you need to do is show up.” Chris made a grunting sort of noise to signify that he heard and understood what Leeroch was saying to him. He was still very much in shock and very unable to think properly, let alone form entire coherent sentences. “This isn't an ordinary thing, Chris,” Leeroch told him in a manner that seemed to suggest that Chris wasn't taking this seriously enough. “It usually takes a number of best-sellers before companies will even consider asking you to tour. Honestly, I'm surprised they want you to do it.”

“Oh, believe me, I'm very, very grateful.” Chris looked around the room, trying to understand. Was any of this actually real? How could it be real?

“You better be.”

“So, um... when is this tour, exactly?” Chris shifted in his chair, crossing his left leg over his right. He swung his foot a little as Leeroch went on, taking another five minutes to finish explaining the entirety of the situation to Chris. Following that there was little to speak further of, and so the phone call ended.

Chris sighed as he hung up the phone. His eyes caught sight of the sink, a pile of dishes still soaking in the soapy water. He returned to his unfinished chore, though he felt dazed. It couldn't possibly be real. Even the news that his book was being published seemed too good to be true.

As the hours passed, though, and Chris found himself still in the same reality, he decided that it was in fact true. He had finally accomplished what he had wanted for nearly ten years, and he was incredibly lucky to have done so. Anyone else may have argued that it was his talent which aided him, not luck, but Chris was not in any rush to praise himself.

Of course, he also realized that this was only the beginning. Just because he was being published did not mean that he would be successful. Yet, he couldn't help being incredibly happy. It wouldn't be horrible of him to celebrate just a little.

So Chris decided not to do any work at all that day (though he probably would have skipped the work anyway, regardless of the call from Leeroch), but he did sit down at his computer, compelled to write more of his next story. Maybe it would be good enough to also be published one day, if he put in enough effort.

He made sure to keep an eye on the time, typing away until the very last possible second. The elementary school was a five-minute drive from their apartment, so when it was six minutes before the class would let out, Chris jumped up and headed out the door.

With one minute to go, Chris ran into the school, coming to a dead stop at Tristan's desk. “Hey, Tristan,” he quickly said, beaming. He limply held a hand to his chest as he breathed heavily. Tristan calmly lifted his eyes.

“Hey,” he replied. “You're awfully... buoyant today.”

“My book is a top seller.” After receiving a slightly confused look from Tristan, Chris shook his head and went on to explain, “Oh, I'm a writer. Did you not know that?”

Tristan smirked, and he too shook his head. “I didn't. But congratulations! That's, like, incredibly awesome.”

“Thanks.”

“So, I guess you're going to become famous now, huh? And you'll be off to bigger and better things. Bigger and better boyfriends,” Tristan playfully said with a wink. Chris's eyes widened and his cheeks turned a bit red.

“I highly doubt that will happen, but shouldn't you,” Chris looked around in a frenzied way, “you know, watch it around all these kids?” Tristan seemed to find his inappropriate behavior funny, and in response to Tristan's laughter Chris narrowed his eyes. “That reminds me, I need to go get my son. I'll be back.”

“Oh, God, please don't,” Tristan sarcastically remarked as Chris walked down the hallway, smiling to himself.

On his way to the classroom he passed Mrs. Carter and Daren, who each shot him a nasty glare in passing. In return, he simply smiled and waved. He hoped that would throw them off. As he walked on he felt as though he was successful.

Ty was already waiting by the door when Chris arrived. From what Chris could see, Ty had been watching the door in anticipation. Without a word, he grabbed Chris's hand and pulled him back into the hallway. Chris stared down at him as they walked.

“Is everything all right?” Chris asked. “You're being awfully calm.”

Ty looked up at Chris with an unidentifiable expression in his large eyes. He was quiet for several moments. “Daren tried to get me in trouble today. Lotsa times.”

Chris sighed. “What did he do?”

“He kept telling Ms. L that I was saying rude things to him. But I wasn't!” Ty said with increasing exuberance. “I didn't even say anything to him at all. Then I just stopped talking so he couldn't say that I said anything. I think it worked.”

“Did you tell Ms. L that Daren was lying?”

Ty nodded. “I don't think she believed me. But she didn't yell at me. She just said, 'Tyrone, please be nice to Daren, and Daren, please be nice to Tyrone.'”

“Next time he does something like that, tell me, OK? Then I'll... I don't know. I guess I'll have to schedule a conference with your teacher or something. This is getting ridiculous.”

“You're telling me,” Ty groaned. Chris grimaced at him.

“Sorry, kid,” he sort of muttered, to which Ty responded with a shrug.

“It's not your fault, daddy.”

“Well...” As he trailed off, Chris glanced at Tristan's desk. Tristan was still standing there, though now he was chatting with some woman, a co-worker of his. He appeared to be engrossed in the conversation enough for Chris to decide to not bother with stopping at the desk.

Tristan was more alert than Chris gave him credit for. Though he was in the middle of a sentence as Chris and Ty passed, he cut himself off and shouted, “Chris!” When Chris halted and looked up, Tristan waved his hand to beckon him.

Chris was going to ask what it was that Tristan wanted, but as soon as he was close enough, Tristan reached out and with a hand full of Chris's shirt pulled him forward to kiss him. Then, with smiling eyes, Tristan softly said, “I'll see you tomorrow.” Chris smiled in a dazed sort of way as Tristan turned back to the woman, who had been watching and looked certain to make a comment once Chris had left.

Ty was a holding back a giggle as Chris returned to the glass doors. Chris stared at him with embarrassment, made all the worse when Ty thought it prudent to say, “Daddy, your cheeks are all red,” and then finally release his laughter.

Five minutes later, the boys stepped inside of their apartment (though in actuality Ty ran in). Ty immediately headed for his room and Chris stood by the door, left to hang his car keys up on the hook bolted to the wall. The rest of the afternoon was spent as usual; Ty watched a few movies and snacked while Chris sat at his computer and composed fiction for several hours.

It wasn't until Ty was supposedly in bed that Chris did something different. While the thought was still fresh in his mind, he went into the kitchen and phoned Kirsten. Making plans now with Kirsten as far as watching Ty for the month Chris would be away was a smart thing to do.

Naturally, Kirsten opposed and whined at the thought of continuously mothering Ty for thirty days. Chris tried to contain his frustration long enough to actually make the plans, though he did slip once and let Kirsten know that if she hated the idea of taking care of her own son so much, then she should have “considered that six years ago and kept [her] big mouth – and legs – shut.”

When he returned the receiver to its resting place, he could feel the beginnings of a headache stirring in his temples. He closed his eyes and took a few deep, calming breaths. A faint sound coming from around the corner slowly became more distinct. It was then that Chris realized Ty was most definitely not asleep, or even in his room at all.

Chris rushed to the hallway that led to their bedrooms. Sure enough, he found Ty standing by the wall, his hands in fists near his chest and tears spilling from his eyes. At first Chris thought that maybe Ty had overheard the phone call and was upset because of Chris and Kirsten fighting, but it became apparent that such was not the case.

“What's wrong, Ty?” Chris asked, not even thinking to question why Ty was out of bed.

As Chris bent down and placed his hand on Ty's shoulder, Ty replied in a small voice, “Y-You're leaving?”

“Not for another week. But I'll be gone for a month, yeah.”

As several more drops fell down his cheeks, Ty tried to keep as calm as possible, which was proving to be difficult. His lips, though pressed tightly together, trembled violently. “I'm gonna miss you.”

“I'm gonna miss you, too, kid,” Chris told him, the anguish spreading to his own tone. He hugged Ty and for the first time it dawned on him just how lonely the next month was going to be. It was weird enough to go a single evening without Ty; thirty days was going to be torturous. “I'd bring you with me if I could, but you can't miss school.”

“I hate school,” Ty mumbled.

“Is that because of the kids in your class or because you can't come with me?”

Ty sniffed a few times before he answered. “Because I can't come with you.” Chris laughed, though Ty didn't seem to think it was funny at all. Another couple of tears slid down and landed on Chris's shirt. “Don't laugh at me, daddy,” he grumbled.

“I'm sorry, kid,” Chris apologized, though the laughter was still in his voice. “Listen, a month isn't so long. And it could be worse. I could be gone for a year or something.” Though he wasn't entirely convincing, part of his reassurance was for himself, not just Ty. Ty gave a sort of moan in response.

“That would be the worst year of my life.”

“Same here. It would be up there at least.” Chris pulled back so that he and Ty were face-to-face once again. Even in the darkness he could see the shine on Ty's cheeks. “But, hey, you get to spend a whole month with your mother now. Wouldn't you like that? You don't get to see her very often.”

“Yeah, I like spending time with mommy and all.” Ty twisted up his mouth as he always did, silently debating whether or not to continue verbalizing his thoughts. “But it's just not the same.”

“Yeah, I know.” Chris ruffled Ty's hair a bit. Ty dragged the back of his hand over his face, trying to wipe away some of the tears.

“I have to go back to bed, don't I?” Ty asked with some reluctance. Chris quietly nodded his head. “Will you read to me, daddy?”

“I can read to you, yeah. Go on. I'll be there in a minute.”

Ty sniffed a few times, then finally turned and shuffled back to his room. Chris stood up, stretched his legs a bit, then went into his bedroom to fetch the book he had been reading to Ty. He couldn't remember what chapter they had left off at, but he knew that Ty would remember in an instant. It was surprising, really, considering Ty always fell asleep before Chris finished reading to him.

Chris had been flipping through the pages when he walked through Ty's doorway. Ty was under the covers already, but he was sitting up and brightly smiling in Chris's direction. Apparently the prospect of being read to was enough to momentarily subside his sobbing.

“Well, you look like a happy camper,” Chris remarked as he looked up from the book in his hands. Ty responded with a look of confusion.

“Camper?” He glanced down at the blankets that covered his tiny body, and Chris chuckled. Ty was a smart kid, but sometimes he was far too literal. Chris decided it was best to just change the subject.

“What chapter were we on?”

“Oh, we are on chapter eight now, daddy,” Ty quickly replied. Chris thought of asking how exactly it was that Ty could respond with such speed and, probably, accuracy. Instead of asking, though, he just opened the book to the appropriate page and sat down beside Ty.