Albert Wily's face became a common sight in the Stanton house over the next few weeks, and Samuel Stanton's presence in the Wily house was equally normal. When Albert's father had died he'd been left to take care of his grandmother. While she could not move out of her chair due to her old age, she refused to be idle. She was the first to suggest that Samuel "visit" her during the long hours Emily worked trying to scrape by. So Samuel walked across the yard to visit "Uncle" Albert's grandmother every day as his sister walked across the city to type, file and take notes for the head of one of the factories that dominated the skyline of this miserable city. Albert would walk him back home when Emily returned after dark, talk with her and make sure she ate something.
Crossing to the Light's house however, was much less frequent. Whenever Thomas saw one of his friends coming close to the house he hurried outside to greet them, and prevent them from entering, and consequently from seeing his mother surrounded by the empty bottles that had piled up on the counter. He refused the invitations to dinner that came when fortune smiled on one family, and extended none as fortune never smiled on him. He no longer went to speak with Albert and Emily after work, he no longer left the house except to work. When he wasn't working he was scouring the house to discover how his mother still managed to buy enough alcohol to keep her under the impression that her husband was alive. He searched each room three times over, and still never found a thing. He cleaned each bottle carefully before throwing it in the trash, engaging in endless nonsensical conversations with his mother while he did so, still he discovered nothing.
"Your father never came home last night." Nancy Light observed to her son, while sipping some ungodly liquid.
"Dad's dead, mom." Thomas said impatiently as he ripped a label off a bottle and turned to rinse it.
"You must think positively Thomas, just because he's a little late does not mean he's dead, even in this city."
"This city..." Thomas muttered angrily under his breath. He sniffed the bottle to see if he'd washed enough of the stink away. He wasn't concerned about the vagabonds that roamed the city seeing the bottle for what it was and what it meant; he was worried about Emily, who passed by their trash early every morning on her way to work. "This city is dead mother."
"Could have fooled me it's still got people like you in it."
"And a fat lot of good I'm doing it." He still had a sour taste in his mouth after filing the warrant for his neighbor' eviction yesterday. Granted it wasn't his signature on the bottom line, but she'd know. She'd know who'd filled it out, she'd see his handwriting and know. And he couldn't tell her, he wasn't allowed to tell her, at risk of losing his job. And he wasn't sure that he'd tell her even if he could. Dreading a thing made it all the worse.
"Reckon your father isn't coming home tonight either is he?"
Thomas sighed, then said quietly, "No mom, he's dead, he isn't ever coming back."
She looked dolefully at him over the top of the bottle. "He's comin' back Thomas. Don't give up hope on me now. I can hardly take care of myself, much less both of us if you give up hope."
The bottle Thomas was peeling the label from trembled in his hand. He dropped it into the trash without cleaning it. He took two steps towards the table, towards his mother, then forced himself to stop. He fought for control, as he walked around her towards the door, and clenched the door handle, his knuckles white. He stood there for a second on the brink between reckless and impossible. The city was hardly safe during daylight, much less at night. But to stay here... He couldn't do it without loosing control, and control was something he fought hard for these days. He couldn't afford to lose it, it would be impossible to regain. He wrenched the door open.
"Where do you think you're going Thomas Light?"
He heaved a huge sigh, "I'll be back later mother." Then he stepped outside and pulled the door shut with a snap behind him.