John entered what was the sitting room of his small home. It felt like forever since he last stood there. Being back to what was normal made everything that had happened to him last night feel unreal and far away. He could hear the sounds of someone moving about in the kitchen. Most likely his mother. He glanced at the clock on the wall, which was actually a human bean wristwatch. It was a quarter to one. She would be fixing lunch now.
Swallowing his nervousness, John moved further in. However, he stopped again when he reached the entrance to the kitchen. His mum stood with her back to him, busily preparing something that smelled absolutely heavenly. After hesitating once more, he finally spoke.
"I'm home."
She whirled around immediately. Her hand flew to her heart as she gasped in surprise. John smiled a bit nervously, feeling unusually awkward and out of place.
"John? Oh, my dear boy!" His mother practically flew across the room to get to him. "All, night, John! You were gone all night long!" She sobbed into his shoulder.
Unsure, he patted her shoulder gently.
"It's alright, mum. I'm okay, see? Nothing happened."
As he said this, he heard another person enter the room behind him. John knew before he even turned around that it was his father.
"Oh, honey! Look who's back! Safe and sound, it's a miracle!"
His mother released him long enough to let him turn and, sure enough, his father was now standing in the entryway looking quite exhausted. He stared at John in astonishment, causing the boy even greater discomfort. Before he could say anything, however, his father had crossed the room and enveloped both him and his mother in a veritable bear hug. John's dad was a large man (by borrower standards) which made it easy for him to embrace his son and wife, who was rather short, together.
John realized then just how much he had missed them. Fighting back tears of relief, he hugged them back tight, wishing for a moment that they could stay like this forever.
"Welcome back, John." His father finally managed.
The boy thanked his lucky stars that he had survived the night. He had no desire to cause his parents any more grief.
Some time past before John's parents were able to relax again. Now the three of them sat at the table, silent, their food untouched. John had just finished explaining what had kept him so long. Not the truth, of course, but as good an excuse as he could come up with on short notice. He told them that he had been out, at one of his usual haunts, because he wasn't able to sleep that night. Though he hadn't meant to stay long, it seemed that he relaxed a little too much then and had actually managed to fall asleep where he shouldn't have. He only woke up recently and so came straight home.
His father accepted this explanation after a moments thought. Nodding in understanding, he began to eat, signaling that the discussion was now over. His mother, however, looked at him a bit strangely. John considered the possibility that he might not have fooled her quite as completely.
Suddenly feeling uncomfortable again, John changed the subject, "where's Harry?"
"Oh, she's taking a nap at the moment. I'm afraid she hasn't been feeling very well of late." His mother answered, smiling at his concern.
"Not feeling well? What's wrong with her?"
"Nothing's wrong with me, John."
The boy smiled at the voice, though it was a little hoarse. His younger sister, Harry, was standing in the doorway, looking bleary eyed and flushed.
"Dear Harry, you shouldn't be up! What you need is rest, honey."
The girl scowled at her mother's coddling.
"I'm not a baby. And it's not like I have a horrible disease or anything. It's just a cold."
His sister was eight, and small, comparatively speaking. She liked to pretend, however, to be older and was often in too much in a rush to grow up. Generally, though, she was a sweet girl and liked to help out as much as she could, mostly getting in the way of her elders.
"Hey you," John greeted her cheerfully.
She squinted at him suspiciously. "Hello, stranger. And just where have you been?"
"Oh, you know me. Can't sit still for long."
With a scowl that could start a fire, the little girl walked heavily to where John was sitting. Climbing into his lap, she curled up against his chest. He petted her hair gently, frowning in concern.
"You're awfully feverish, Harry."
"Mmmfine, just be quiet, will you."
He looked up at his parents rather helplessly. His father simply shrugged and continued eating while his mother, on the other hand, gazed at the two in complete adoration.
Trying to come up with a new topic, John turned to his father, "I heard shouting on the way back here. That's rather unusual, isn't it?"
"I suppose..." His dad replied thoughtfully, "though I don't see how it's any of our business."
"What was it about, then?"
"The younger bean's parents were shouting at him for some reason. It was one hell of a row, I can tell you."
His mother was shocked, "language, dear." She looked pointedly at Harry, who was actually fast asleep.
"But what were they fighting about?" John's heart felt like it might burst with worry if he didn't find out soon.
"Something along the lines of the boy sneaking out late. I honestly didn't pay it much mind. Why are you so bent on knowing anyhow?"
This question caught John off guard.
"W-well,"he stammered, "I suppose...I'm just kinda curious is all."
His father gave him a strange look making John shift uncomfortably. Then he realized Harry was still in his lap.
"I think I should take her back to her room now."
"Oh, would you do that John? Thank you." His mother smiled.
John avoided his father's piercing gaze as he stood, careful not to move his sister too much. It was a huge relief to be able to leave the kitchen. He had never before been so awkward with his parents.
'John, you idiot!' He scolded himself, 'try not to be so obvious next time.'
Quickly, he deposited his load on her bed. This turned out to be more of an effort than expected, however, as she clung to his neck like a barnacle. Once he had disentangled himself, he went to his own room. Throwing himself onto the welcoming sight of his homemade comforter, John tried to calm the utter chaos that was his mind. This proved to be ineffectual and he was soon up and pacing restlessly. After some time, he heard his father calling.
"John? Could you help me with something?"
"Coming!"
Going immediately, he hoped to be able to distract himself. John had already decided to visit the young bean that night. Once everything was quiet, he would go. He had made a promise when he wrote that note. He had to keep it...
