Zack's Son
It had been a cold night on December 24th. Zack Mooneyham stood near a window, rubbing his arms as he tried to warm himself up. His breath came out of his mouth visibly, and his hair stuck to his face due to sudden static electricity. He heard the door open softly behind him. A nurse tapped him gently on the shoulder.
"You may go in now," she said as she smiled and retraced her previous steps.
Zack looked amazed and felt dizzy. He turned around in the waiting room and tapped a man on his shoudler.
"Five more minutes mom!" Freddy Jones mumbled as he turned around in his chair.
"Get off your ass. My child has been born!" Zack shouted loudly. He kicked Freddy in the shin. Freddy shot up.
"Okay, okay," he mumbled as he massaged his leg. He stood up. "I better be this kid's godfather, or I refuse to ever wait here another night for your next child."
At that moment, Summer Hathaway and Katie Brown walked in, holding their cups of coffee. It was almost midnight, and caffine always kept everyone up. Well, most of the time. Freddy's cup had failed him previously.
"My child's been born!" Zack yelled as he hugged Summer and Katie, almost knocking their coffee on the floor.
"Well, what are we waiting for?" Summer asked.
"Let's go see the little baby!" Katie added.
The four walked into the hospital room. Lying in her bed, clutching a small bundle wrapped in a blue blanket, was Zack's wife of two years. Her name was Carol. She was twenty - four, he was twenty - four. She and Zack had met when Zack was on tour many summers ago. Carol had auburn hair, and she played the guitar. They had clicked almost at once, and Zack wasted no time in marrying her.
"Hello everyone," Carol whispered as she smiled weakly down at the bundle in her arms. Zack heard a small gargling sound, and his heart jumped for joy. He ran over to his wife's side and peered down at the baby.
"It's a boy," Carol whispered in Zack's ear. Zack smiled and began jumping up and down in an excited and childish fashion."It's a boy! It's a boy!" he began to shout.
"Oh great. Another Zack Mooneyham," Freddy said as he rolled his eyes.
"What's his name?" Summer asked as she peered at the baby.
"Tell us!" Katie added as she looked too.
Zack stopped jumping after a moment. "I'm not too sure," he whispered as he looked at his son.
"Hold him," Carol whispered as she handed her firstborn to her husband.
Zack took his son and looked at him. He was sleeping, his thumb within his mouth. The boy was tiny and his face was peachy colored. Small tufts of brunette colored hair came from his head. His son shifted slightly.
"How about...Scott Zachary?" Zack suggested. Carol nodded.
"Aha!" Freddy yelled as he pointed both of his index at both Summer and Katie. "I win the bet! I told you that Zack would use Zachary in his son's name! Hand over the moolah baby!" Summer and Katie glared at Freddy.
Zack handed Scott back to his mother. He looked at his son again. "Tonight is a special night," Zack said. "Scott Zachary Mooneyham, you are truely a miracle."
A letter recieved to the publishers of Rock Weekly; March 3rd, 1991.
Dear Mr. Harrington and Mr. Mendlesson,
You have requested that I write a letter explaining the tragedy surrounding my husband's death. Well, I shall tell you. As you know, it happened on Feburary 18th of this very year. Zack had been out on his motorcycle, racing it with his friend and bandmate Freddy Jones. During this time Zack was thrown from his motorcylce and was killed. A senseless tragedy, as I know.
It has come to my attention that Zack and his band had been drinking that night. He was drunk while riding. It was said that he was drunk senseless and most likely unaware of what had happened at the time. It is comforting to know that he must have suffered no pain in his last moments.
However, I am afraid of what his death will do to our son. Young Scott, who is now two years - old, while have no father. This has hurt me greatly. I had never wanted my son to grow up without a father. But his father's love of rock and roll has killed him. Zack always used to say that no rock and roll band should be considered great unless one of their members were dead. Now he is gone.
I have decided not to let rock and roll become a part of Scott's life. I am hoping to raise him without the knowledge of such a type of music or the exact death of his father.
I am asking you that, incase you allow someone to write small editorials on my husband's yearly death anniverseries, that you will keep it small. I am only doing this for the safety of Scott.
Sincerely,
Carol Mooneyham