So I'm waiting on my computer. (Next month!) In the meantime, I've penned out the rough plot points for five chapters of Racing Time! I might be the only one excited over this, but I've been all over that story for the last three weeks, relearning characters, redrafting ideas I had years ago. (Making them much better I believe) I'm just super thrilled over this, I haven't been this excited to write in years.
So this is directly linked with Racing Time, if you haven't read it this may not make sense. The Robinson family gets the news of what's happened to Cornelius.
Wilbur was jolted from his much sought after sleep by his mother's frantic voice.
"Wilbur! Wake up, honey! We've got to go-"
Rubbing his eyes groggily, the raven haired boy rolled onto his side and twisted himself around to see his alarm clock. He made a face while trying to get sleep deprived eyes to focus, brow furrowing and nose wrinkled. He'd only been asleep half an hour.
His dad had promised he could do nothing but sleep when he got home. With school finals and the Chargeball playoffs, he'd been running himself ragged every day, so why was he being drug from such a deep sleep he'd been looking forward to the entire way home?
He swung his legs over the edge of the bed, noticing with detachment that his shoes were still on. Rubbing his eyes again, he opened his mouth to yell out to the hallway, but his mother's frantic tone cut him off. The fog cleared in an instant.
"Wilbur, we have got to go now!"
He shot up off the bed and was down the stairs in a flash, miraculously without injury, and poked his head around the doorway into the hall to see the residence bustling with activity. This wasn't uncommon of course, but the agitated air of the other family members immediately put him on edge.
"What's going on?" He looked in either direction, voicing his question to anyone that would answer. "Where're we going?"
Franny paused, very briefly, to put a hand on his shoulder and tugged gently in a silent request for him to walk with her as she passed his door. While she forced herself to be calm for her son, Wilbur couldn't help but notice her hands were shaking. His throat tightened, his stomach dropped and he waited for whatever she was about to tell him.
Something was horribly wrong.
"Wilbur, honey." She placed a hand on his back and nudged him forward again when he had unknowingly come to a stop. The growing fear in his gaze reflected her own.
"Something's happened, we're going to the ER-"
"What?"
He pulled away as if he'd been burned, the knot in his throat strangled him and his eyes stung as he looked toward the gathering members of the family. A quick tally of those present confirmed what he'd been afraid of.
"What happened to dad?" He didn't recognize his own voice, sounding just as frantic as his mother as he remembered his parting conversation with the man. He hadn't liked the idea of leaving his father there on 6th street, and his stomach turned violently knowing something had happened.
"We're going to find out." Somehow his mother was able to uphold her brave face, taking charge as she instructed him to grab something to take with him. She knew it could be a long wait, and maybe he could distract himself while they waited for any news.
It took three different vehicles to transport the entire family. Wilbur sat stiffly in the back seat, staring out the window of the hovercar he'd driven home barely an hour earlier. He was motionless, save for one bouncing knee that refused to stop. Music from his headphones could be heard by everyone in the vehicle, Franny had only asked him once to turn it down. Turning away from the window, he studied the family members in the car with him. Franny drove in silence, her attention solely on the task at hand. With every red light they approached, though, he could see her facade fall a little more, her hands tightening on the wheel impatiently. Gramma and Granddad sat closely together in the middle seat, Bud's arm firmly around his wife's shoulders. Wilbur had never seen them so still or serious before, it was frightening.
When they finally did make it to the hospital and the Robinson clan was all in the building, they took up most of the large ER waiting room. The usual boisterous group of people had become very subdued, waiting anxiously on any word of what had happened to Cornelius Robinson.
Wilbur glanced up numbly from his handheld gamer, eyes falling back to the screen before he blinked and his attention snapped back up across the room. Adam stood with his mother at the information desk, looking just about the way Wilbur felt.
Their eyes met, and both boys mirrored the other's look of confusion as their mothers did the same. Wilbur slumped further into his chair, glowering from beneath lowered brows as his mother and Adam's mother tried to piece their two stories together.
He was supposed to be careful.
He wordlessly gestured to the empty chair beside him, the two boys never speaking other than to show the other something in their game. Wilbur opened up the Kindle app and attempted to read, tried to close his eyes and nap in the uncomfortable chair. Finally he stood and paced the waiting room. He read every poster and informational flyer on the walls, spent twenty minutes deciding if a snickers bar from the vending machine was really worth $2.25, and eventually found himself back in his chair.
He paused in his grimacing at the difficulty of chewing the stale candy, when his mother's hand rested lightly on his forearm. Looking toward her questioningly, he was a little surprised that she wasn't looking back but staring at the floor. Feeling his eyes on her, she glanced up at him briefly and gave an encouraging, motherly smile. Her voice was soft, and hoarse, when she spoke.
"I love you."
Wilbur swallowed the bite he'd been working on and cleared his throat before answering. His own voice sounded raw, exhausted, and strained.
"Love you too, mom...it'll be ok..."
She watched him for a moment, taking in his features as he stared back at her. Finally she smiled with difficulty, reaching over with her other hand to fix a mussed tuft of his cowlick.
Her attention was pulled away as a nurse walked through, and Wilbur's gaze fell on the mirrors across from them. He stared for a few moments at the reversed image of his family, at the tired eyes, worried postures and anxious glances. He lowered his brows, glaring briefly at his own reflection before going back to his game player.
It was going to be a long night.
