The world seemed fascinating whenever Pops was around. Magical, even.

"Look what happens when you spin it."

Something as simple as a carousel decorated with a repetitive pattern became a horse galloping.

"Could you tell me why that happens, Dell?" Dad asked.

"The rapid succession of images that barely differ from each other creates the illusion of movement." Dell replied.

"Well, well, what a clever response! Tell me the truth, you are cheating somehow. You must have an encyclopedia here somewhere." Pops started tickling him, and Dell writhed laughing like mad, begging him to stop.

Ma appeared at the doorframe without them noticing. Only when she spoke did they notice she was there, watching. And that she didn't seem happy.

"When are you leaving?" She asked her husband.

"Tomorrow." He replied, sitting Dell on his lap.

"Tomorrow..." Ma muttered, a frown growing on her face. "So you just dropped in to say hello, and you're off again, right?"

"I wish I could stay much longer, but we've got a mission in Winnipeg and-"

"You could stay longer." Ma interrupted him. "You could tell all those people you don't want their filthy money and stay with your wife and son. Just say you don't want to. Just say it!"

"Every time I come back home is this how you greet me? 'Cause I'm getting tired!" Pops' expression changed, his good mood disappeared quite quickly.

"Tired! Yes, killing people must be so tiring, right, Fred? Poor you!"

"Do you think I like to spend so much time away from home, under the rain, under the bullets? I do this so you don't go hungry!"

There we go again. Dell jumped off Pops' lap and quickly, quietly walked out of the garage. This stopped being funny.

"...Here all day, waiting for someone to show up and tell me you've been killed like a dog!"

Ma knew perfectly how to ruin Pops' happiness. Most Mas were happy when dad came back from a long time away from home, but Ma seemed to wait for the chance to jump at his jugular. Dell had to lock himself in his room and try to distract himself with Dick Tracy's adventures, but the screams were too loud to ignore.

"Cursed be the day I married you and took the name of Conagher!"

This usually ended up with Pops hiding too (at the bar, in his workshop, inside the car...), or leaving sooner than expected. When he felt like talking back, he claimed the mercs had more mercy on him than his snake of a wife. Dell didn't know where he went that day, but when he sat to have dinner, it was just him and Ma.

The atmosphere was so tense he almost preferred going to bed with his stomach empty. Ma still had fury in her face, barely ate, and just watched how he ate. He tried to avoid more conflict staying quiet, eating everything she had put in the plate without complaining. He had learned the pattern after so many years. He knew it was the best strategy.

But this time Ma opened her mouth. She didn't just keep doing what she normally did with an angry face and not opening her lips—this time she fixed her blue eyes on him and asked:

"Why do you love him?"

This was a question Dell had no reply for.

"I stay at home with you all day. I genuinely care when you come home with good grades, when you tell me what you and your friends have done. I feed you, make sure you are comfy. When you are sick, it is me who stays up all night. I take you out whenever we can. I buy you toys, and books. But you never look at me like you look at your father. You never tell me the things you tell him. Why?"

Because you are not as intelligent as he is, Ma. You never have an answer to my difficult questions. You are not as cool as Pops. You are technically a girl. It's just that we don't click the way we do, Ma. Dell felt the answer on the tip of his tongue, but contained it. This was probably not what she wanted to hear. He didn't want her to get angrier.

Ma kept looking at him with those eyes of hers. They seemed tired, dull, but if you looked closer, deep down you could find a great fierceness hidden in a corner, ready to burst out.

"After everything he does? He kills people, Dell. If you've listened to the priest in church, you'll know people like him go to Hell. Why do you admire? Why do you look at him with those eyes, like he was someone you'd like to be?"

They deserved it. The people Pops killed had it coming. Dell knew it was not a nice thing to do but, didn't soldiers break the fifth commandment too and nobody said a thing, even awarded them?

She was just mad. If only she saw how cool Pops was, what a good dad he was...

"Please tell me you don't want to be like him..."

Uh-oh. She seemed like she was about to start crying. Why? What could he do? What could he say?

"He's put our lives in danger; yours and mine...Why do you...Do you want to kill me, Dell?" Ma whined.

Of course not, Dell thought, but he didn't know what to say to fix things. So he said nothing at all.

Wrong choice. It seemed Ma was expecting an answer. She stood up, rigid like a stick, and quickly walked out of the room. He heard a door closing and then, silence.

He finished what was left of his dinner and went to bed, hoping Pops was right and this was just an example of women's crazy and irrational character. He really wished things would be better in the morning.

But the next morning Ma didn't serve them dinner. She wasn't in her bed, or outside, or inside the house. Her clothes had disappeared from her closet.

Pops patted Dell's back.

"...I must go, kid...I...I really wish I could stay, but I can't...The Conagher name implies certain...responsibilities, you know? I'd hate to leave you alone but...You are smart, I'm sure you'll be alright...Be careful with the stove, and if you've got a problem, tell the Wilsons, okay?"

Dell never wanted Pops to leave, but this time he showed it like never before. He gave him a big hug, and, when Pops returned it, he perceived how Pops' breathing was shaky.

"I'll be back soon and call as often as I can. I promise." Was the last thing he said before he kissed his hair and walked out, carrying his bag and toolbox with him.

He jumped into his van and, even though he thought Dell couldn't see him, he saw him. He didn't start the engine immediately. He buried his face in his arms, against the wheel. His lips formed the name 'Alice'. Alice, Alice, Alice.

You can't be a mercenary and a family man, Ma told Dad once, and Dell now saw why.

He saw himself alone in the house and sighed. He wasn't scared: he knew he would manage well. He knew how to use the stove and wasn't afraid of the monsters under the bed. Pops had taught him how to use the gun hanging over the fireplace. There was just this horrendous feeling that he had something inside of him that would keep happening and happening, when he was older, with his kids and the kids of his kids.

The Conagher name was really a curse.

That day, he promised himself he would never get married and have children. Once was enough.