Gray laughed as Garon came back over to the counter. “You can be silly all you want, but that door is going to fall off one of these days, and you’re going to clean up the mess!”
Garon snorted. “Nope, I’ve learned my lesson.” He waited for Gray to finish adding salt and pepper to the bowl of meat, then took a deep breath and asked, “So, mixing up all this stuff together in the burgers makes them taste better, right?”
His son’s face was very serious, after he’d just been laughing the moment before. Gray tried to figure out where Garon was going with this line of questioning but had no idea. He decided to just go with the flow, hoping Garon would reveal what was on his mind. “Well, I think so. You want to mash them up?”
It was Garon’s job to mix the meat and press it into patties. Theyswitched spots, and Garon stuck his hands into the mess. “So, sometimes, mixing things up is okay, right?”
“Well, I suppose so. Depends on what you’re mixing up.”
“Yeah. This meat is cold, Dad.”
“Want me to take over?”
“Nope, I can do it.” Garon continued mixing, his face set in concentration. “Dad, can I ask you something important?”
“Of course.”
“Why did that demon thing hurt me?”
“I’m not sure, kiddo. But I’ve got tons of people working with me trying to figure it out.”
“I know. It’s just… well, I think I’m kind of mixed-up now too.”
Giving Garon a little nudge with his arm, Gray asked, “But not with anchovies?”
Garon laughed and wiggled his meat-covered fingers at Gray. “Eww, anchovy guts!”
Gray dutifully made a disgusted face and then laughed. After grabbing the potatoes from the bag in the pantry, Gray dumped a few in the sink for their fries. “You know, I feel kind of mixed-up sometimes. I could try to help, if you want to talk about it.”
Garon nodded but didn’t say anything else. He finished making the patties and waited until Gray finished cleaning the potatoes to wash his hands in the sink. Gray continued working on the potatoes, chopping and seasoning them before putting them in the oven. “Ready to grill?”
“Yes!” Garon went out the back door to their deck and waited while Gray loaded the burgers onto the preheated racks. When he was done and the lid was closed, they sat down on the patio chairs. “Dad?”
“Yeah?”
“I think that demon guy did something to mix me up.” Garon’s voice broke a little, and he turned his head away and wiped his hand over his eyes. “I mean, I can’t hear you anymore, and you can’t hear me either. I kinda feel sick too. Like, my stomach kinda hurts, but I’m not going to throw up or anything, and my head hurts, and I’m pretty tired. Do you think the other kids feel bad like me? I mean, everybodyhas just stayed home this week, and I haven’t gotten to play with my friends like I always do. I don’t know if they’re okay or anything.”
Gray stood up and went over to Garon’s chair. “Oh, kiddo, I’m sorry you’ve been worried about them. I didn’t think about that. We just wanted to keep everyone home for a few days, you know? But we can call and check on them after dinner if you want.”
“Yeah. We probably should, just to be sure.”
“No problem. We’ll call after we eat, and how about we call Granddaddy and Mimi also. Granddaddy told me he was going to do some reading on all this stuff.”
“Cool. I miss them. I wish they could come home.”
“Me too. Not much longer now, though. What, nine more months or something?” Gray knew Garon was counting down the days, a game he played with Gray’s parents when they called.
“Yeah. Granddaddy said they’d be here for Christmas this year.” Garon looked slyly over to Gray and smiled. “He said he was going to get me a new Xbox.”
Gray pretended to be shocked. “What? No way! Xbox is crap. PlayStations only allowed in this house.”
Garon laughed, just as Gray knew he would. “Yeah right, Dad. PlayStations are for old people. You know, like you.”
They both cracked up, and Gray went to flip the burgers. “When we go in, I think you should take some medicine for that belly ache and headache you’ve got.” Garon hated taking medicine, even when it tasted like candy. He’d always complained that it tasted funny and had spit it out, even as a baby.
“Gross, Dad. I’d rather eat anchovy guts.”
7
