“Increasing amperage to 150 milliamps.”
“No more, no more, no more, no more, no more.”
“Is he protesting because you increased and it’s finally at a level that hurts, or because he wants you to stop altogether?” This was another voice, a pitch somewhere between High Voice and Deep Voice.
Deep Voice said, “Hard to say. Does he use that phrase at home?”
“Maybe with his mother. I’ve never heard him say that.”
That last one hit me like a kick to my gut.
My father was there while they did these horrible things.
Stella’s grip on my arm tightened as she realized it, too.
Tick…tock.
Tick…tock.
Kaylie again. “Jack, what was that?”
No response.
Tick…tock.
Tick…tock.
Kaylie said, “Jack, I want you to tell me about the chocolate milk.”
“Chocolate milk?”
“That’s why you came to me, right? Your parents. You wanted to know what happened. You said there was chocolate milk. Take me there. Take me to the moment with the chocolate milk. Can you do that?”
“Yes.”
Tick…tock.
Tick…tock.
“He’s been drinking it?” Deep Voice said.
“Every day. Sometimes twice a day.” The middle voice. My father’s voice.
“And you’re mixing it, like we showed you?”
My father said, “Yesterday, I nearly doubled the dose. It didn’t do a damn thing.”
“That’s enough arsenic to take down a horse. You realize that, right?”
A loud click.
The tape stopped.
The scent of vanilla lofted past me from Stella at my side. She stared at the GTO.
My father’s voice came through the tinny speaker of my handheld radio.“Jack. It’s not what you think.”
And from the woods, nearly fifty people stepped forward, all dressed in white. They carried candles as they started toward the gully between the distant railroad tracks.
