"Have a nice day, sir," said the overly-friendly Starbucks woman. Larry gave her a halfhearted grin and drove out of the drive-thru. His eyelids were heavy, and he was struggling to put two thoughts together. By the time he'd finally stopped grading papers, the sun was peeking through the curtains in his apartment. As usual, his alarm woke him up too soon.
The morning dragged on as Larry explained division to his class. They're behaving a lot better today, he realized. Maybe they're as tired as I am. Finally, it was one of the best parts of the day: lunch. Larry sat back down behind his admittedly cluttered desk and grabbed the blue bag from under it. He set out his turkey sandwich and bag of Fritos, then grabbed his cell phone. Larry leaned back in the chair as it started to ring, once, twice, three times-
"Hello?"
"Hey, Nick." He smiled. "Just making sure we're still on for later."
"...Uh...what?"
His face fell a little. Larry had been looking forward to seeing his son all week. With his job and Nick having moved out, the two didn't get many chances to see each other. To say he wasn't a little sad that he forgot would be a total lie. "Dinner. You're still coming over tonight, right?"
"Oh, yeah, yeah! Um...aww crap…"
"Is something wrong?" he asked. "Look, Nick, if you made other plans, it's ok-"
"No, no, I'm still coming. Don't worry. Just uh...what time did you want me there again?"
"Well I don't get home till around three thirty so four thirty would give me time to cook."
"Four thirty...yeah, okay. Okay, that's fine. Right, I'll see you then."
A feeling was rising up inside of his stomach. A feeling all fathers knew well. He's not telling me something. "Are you sure you're okay? You sound really jumpy."
"No, I'm fine. Really, it's all good, Dad."
He decided not to press. "Okay. Guess I'll see you later, man."
"Yeah, a'right. I'll see ya."
"Love you."
"Hmm? Oh, yeah, love you, too, Dad."
And within the next second, his son had hung up.
That was...weird, Larry thought as he set down his phone. Why was he so panicky all of a sudden? Did he just feel bad 'cause he forgot he was coming over? He really wanted to get off the phone. And he was hesitating a lot. He took a bite of his sandwich. Some of the mustard smeared on his cheek. Guess I'll just see what's going on when he comes by.
Larry yawned for what must've been the twenty-thousandth time as he finally pulled into the parking lot in front of his apartment building. Why did I plan lasagna? That's gonna take forever. Why didn't I suggest going out somewhere or just calling in some pizza? But deep down, he knew it would be worth it when Nick saw he'd made his favorite food. Larry saw his son so little now, he wanted to do that for him.
He shut the car door but froze for a minute. A few parking spots away was a gleaming, brand-new looking motorcycle. Aww, great. If they ride that around all night, I swear...God, I'm starting to sound like a grouchy old man. I really need some sleep. He glanced at the watch. It was quarter to four. The ever-present traffic had once again succeeded in making him late. I really gotta get going on dinner. Nick's gonna be-
His train of thought came to a screeching halt as he opened the door to the hall. A boy who looked to be in his early twenties was leaning against the wall on his cell phone. He was dressed in a dark blue hoodie, torn jeans, and sneakers. His hair was short and dark brown. "...Nick?" Larry asked.
He looked up from the phone and quickly put it in his back pocket. "Hey, Dad." Nick walked over to him and Larry found himself in a hug. "Good to see you. It's been a while."
"Yeah, I know, it's crazy," he mumbled. They broke apart and he gave the boy a confused look. "Why are you so early?"
Nick gave him the same look. "...Early? I, uh, I thought you said be here at three thirty."
"No, I said I get home at three thirty. That's why I told you to come an hour after that so I could have dinner ready when you showed up."
"...Oh. Oops."
Again, that feeling rose up in Larry's stomach. What's going on with him? We're gonna have to talk over the lasagna, something's definitely up.
"Well, I'm here now." Nick shrugged. "Can I help with dinner?"
"Uh...yeah, I guess." He unlocked the door to apartment 112 and walked inside. "Sorry, I was gonna clean up, but you know, that didn't happen."
"No, it's fine. Looks a lot better than my place, trust me," Nick admitted, following him into the small kitchen.
"Yeah, how's that going? Living on your own?"
"Pretty good. The landlord's kinda a pain, but what can you do, y'know?"
"Alright," Larry glanced down at the recipe, "if you wanna get out the ricotta and mozzarella, we can get this started."
"What are we making?"
He fumbled around in a cabinet and grabbed a saucepan. "Well it was gonna be a surprise, but it's lasagna."
"Aw, awesome! You didn't have to do that."
"Sure I did." He grinned. "I barely see you now."
"Yeah, it's just getting hard to find time. But I got it all handled."
"No, I know you have a lot with work and everything. It's not easy to juggle everything. Hey, how is work?"
His son looked toward the counter.
"...Nick? Is there...something going on or...?"
"Yeah, umm...about the work...I uh...I don't actually...do that...anymore."
Larry froze, the egg in his hand almost slipping. "What?"
"Yeah, I uh...got fired, actually. Like a week or two ago."
"What do you mean, fired? What happened?" He stopped everything to look at his son straight on. "You told me everything was going okay."
"Well my boss let me go because he thought I was comin' in late too often."
"Well, were you?"
"No, he was a jerk, okay? He was just exaggerating so he'd have a reason to get me outta there."
"...Why didn't you tell me earlier?"
"I figured it wasn't a big deal. I thought I would've found another one by now and it wouldn't matter."
"Nick, being unemployed kinda qualifies as a big deal. You have rent that's gonna be due, I mean-"
"I'm gonna find one soon, okay?" Nick snapped. "Look, can we just make this thing? I'll tell you over dinner if you really have to know."
Larry decided to stop and wait until the lasagna was cooking. They both got back to work as Larry started to stir the cheese and eggs together in a bowl. He tried to think of anything to change the subject. "Hey, uh...you see that bike when you came?"
"Uh, no. Must've pulled up after I got in here."
"Looks almost new. I wonder if that guy down the hall got it. You know, the one that's balding? I don't know, everything about him just says 'midlife crisis' to me." He laughed a little, but for some reason, Nick didn't. He was focused on browning the meat on the stove it seemed. Just the pale look on his face made Larry's paternal instincts go crazy. His stomach flipped. But he had no idea why.
He went back to stirring the bowl. Slowly, just like the ingredients, the thoughts in his mind started to come together. Why Nick was so early, when he'd clearly said to come at four thirty…
He set the spoon down but didn't look at Nick. "...It's yours...isn't it?"
"Is, uh, is what-"
"Nick, don't lie," Larry told him flatly, turning towards him. "The motorcycle. You bought it." It wasn't said as a question anymore.
After a moment, Nick's eyed fell to the floor. "Yeah."
"That's why you showed up early, and why you were so squirrely on the phone. You didn't want me to see you ride up on it, so you got here before I did."
"...Yeah." Apparently, that was all he could say.
"Nick, why didn't you just tell me instead of...wait...did you buy it before you got fired? Or after?"
That didn't get any kind of answer at all.
Larry's eyes widened. "Nick, what are you thinking?! You can't buy something like that after you lose your job. Do you even have a license for that thing?"
"Of course, I do, Dad, God," Nick shouted, his head snapping up. "This is why I didn't want you to know! I knew you wouldn't get it."
"Get what? I'm not understanding why you would do something like this! I mean, you, you've got no income, rent to pay, school to take care of, and you spend thousands of dollars on a bike!"
"Look, Alexa likes guys with motorcycles and-"
"Alexa? Jesus, Nick, you can't be telling me you did this just because of your girlfriend."
"I'm gonna get another job, alright?!"
"What the hell are you thinking? You think your girlfriend will think you look cool on your motorcycle? How cool are you gonna look when you get evicted?!"
"That's not gonna happen! I'll get another job!"
"You're not thinking things through, Nick. My God, I really thought you were more responsible than this. What do you think you're even doing?!"
"I'm an adult. If I wanna use my money to buy a motorcycle to impress my girlfriend, then I'm gonna do it!"
"You may be an adult, Nicholas, but you're acting like a child!"
"You keep treating me like one! You always call and make sure I'm doing this and that, like you don't trust me! Well you know what?" Nick stuffed his hands into his pockets and started to walk out of the kitchen. "I'm twenty-two and I don't need you to stand her and read me list of everything I'm messing up on." He watched his son grab his keys and head for the door.
"Nick-"
The door slammed shut, nearly causing a photo on the wall to fall. Larry stood there for a minute as he listened to a motorcycle get farther and farther away. He then stomped back into the kitchen and looked around. The beef was burned and totally inedible by now. Of course! he fumed. It went straight into the garage along with the mixture in the bowl. So much for a nice dinner with my responsible, mature son. All he turned into was an irresponsible kid who is officially too big for his britches.
He let out an exhausted sigh, wiped down the rest of the kitchen, and then picked up the phone. "Hi, Bleecker Street Pizza? I need to place an order for delivery."
About thirty minutes later, Larry was sitting on his couch with a few pieces of pepperoni and mushroom, watching the news. An overly peppy news lady with clearly fake blonde hair was giving a report. "Thankfully, the shih-tzu recovered quickly after being rescued from the fire."
He wasn't really watching it at all though. All he could do was sit there and think. No matter what, his mind kept going back to Nick. One second, I think everything's going great with him, and the next he's storming out of my apartment. I can't believe he bought a motorcycle just to impress his girlfriend. I mean, yeah, every guy does something stupid for a girl, but...that's thousands of dollars! And after he just lost his job! "My boss exaggerated." I can't believe I fell for that. With the way he acted, I wouldn't be surprised if he was late to work a lot.
What the heck happened to him? He's always been so down to Earth, what is he thinking? Since he was a kid, he always had his priorities straight. I just...I don't get it.
"Meanwhile, in the Mediterranean," the news lady continued. "It appears that some of the desert sand in Egypt is turning black."
Larry plummeted back into reality. What?
"And according to this, it seems to be spreading." A few photos showed a small pool of sand that was as black as shined church shoes. It grew larger and larger with each new picture. "No one knows exactly why this is happening at the moment, but the most popular theory is global warming."
He almost choked on a bite of pizza. Global warming? That's like, polar ice caps melting, not hot, desert sand changing colors. That doesn't make sense at all. The news woman went into another story about traffic violations going up since last year, but Larry had again, totally blocked her out. Something just wasn't sitting right with him.
That doesn't sound...normal. Something's going on. But apparently no one knows what it is.
I wonder if maybe...Ahkmenrah...
Over the years, Larry had thought of many excuses to go to the Museum of Natural History, but this one was different. This one, he was going to act on.
"Put me down!" Jedediah shouted, kicking his boots. "I don't like to be manhandled!"
McPhee was holding the small cowboy by the back of his shirt. He didn't look pleased at all. "Can you honestly not go one night without causing chaos? Just one?"
"Aw, quit exaggeratin'! It wasn't that bad."
"You got the tyrannosaurus to chase around your car, causing him to almost damage several valuable artifacts!"
Jed rolled his eyes. "So the big guy got a little excited. He wouldn't be so crazy if yeh'd play with him from time to time. He's lonely!"
"This is not about the dinosaur; this is about you and your insistence on making my job difficult." McPhee placed him back in the Western Diorama. The sand crunched under Jed's black boots. "It must be at least every other night, I've got to talk to you about these things."
Jed crinkled his nose. I hate bein' talked down to like this. Darned McPhee's just gotta ruin everything.
"If it's not busting up a remote-control car, it's you and your little Roman accomplice causing some kind of nuisance."
"It's called fun, McPhee," he told him sharply. He crossed his arms across his chest. "If you'd learn how to have some of it, we wouldn't have ta do this all the time."
"For your information, I have fun quite often," McPhee nagged, copying Jed's pose. "When I can, I play a game of solitaire in the office, sometimes I watch Dancing with the Sta- th-that's not the point! If you were not seemingly hell bent on breaking my museum, this wouldn't happen!"
Jedediah stuck his tongue out at the man, maturely.
McPhee's face was turning pink. "You are honestly the most insufferable little pain in this entire museum! I'm at the end of my rope! I'm this close to just, just, I swear, I'm going to-" The curator finally stomped one of his feet and pointed a furious finger at him. "You are to stay here for the rest of the night. And I'm taking this-" He waved the small, black car in his other hand, mockingly. "And locking it in the office for the rest of the week."
"Have fun walkin' there with that stick up yer keister!" the cowboy shouted. But McPhee was already walking out of the Hall of Miniatures.
Jed sighed and sat on the edge of his diorama. Damn McPhee. I wasn't try'na bust anything. I was just helping Rexy get some exercise. Wouldn't have had to do it in the first place if he'd play with the poor guy. He sat there for a while, alone. Most of his men were enjoying the evening. One could hear a pin drop in the large room of silence.
"Hail, Jedediah!" called a familiar voice. He looked down and saw Octavius shouting up to him. "Throw down the rope! I wish to talk to you."
Though he didn't really feel like having company, Jed tossed down the long rope they used to get back to their spots at night. With minimum effort, the Roman climbed up and was soon sitting next to him. "I heard Doctor McPhee cut your night short. Would you care to explain?"
"I swear, Octy, he's got it in for me," Jed told him. "Everything I do makes him angry."
"Well, what happened tonight?"
"I got the car and was runnin' Rexy around. He got excited and that enormous tail o' his almost busted up some vases 'er somethin'." He stared at his boots. "Wasn't tryin' ta cause trouble, just thought he'd wanna play a little."
"Yes, Rexy had seemed a bit down lately, hasn't he?"
"Cause McPhee won't do nothin' with him!" He'd finally turned and looked into his friend's eyes. "Poor fella's bored outta his mind. McPhee don't care, though. He don't care 'bout any of us."
"Now, hold on," Octavius said firmly. "That isn't true, and you know it isn't. Yes, he is a stickler for rules and keeping things clean, but he cares about all the exhibits here. Even you, though you may not believe it."
"Darn right, I don't!" Jed told him a bit louder than he meant to. "McPhee can't stand me! Why, I bet if I got stepped on by a mammoth 'er somethin', he'd just complain about the stain on the floor!"
"Jed…"
But he turned away and hugged his knees to his chest. Octavius sighed and put a hand on his shoulder. "I've got to get back to the Empire. The sun's nearly up. I'll see you tomorrow, alright? Perhaps you can show me how to drive finally."
"Can't. McPhee's got the car till the end of the week."
"Really? Hmm." Out of the corner of his eye, Jed saw him get to his feet. "Then we'll find something else to do. Something that won't give Doctor McPhee a migraine."
"Sure. Like watchin' paint dry."
Another sigh. "Good morning, Jedediah. I shall see you later."
He gave a slight nod and got up to get into his own spot dejectedly. No matter what we do tomorrow, I'll bet my hat I'll end up back here before sunrise. McPhee'll find something. Ol' grouch just can't stand me at all.
A/N: Thank you already for the follows and comments, it makes me so happy I don't even have words.