"And you don't have to worry about peanuts. Brandon is allergic to them too, so we don't have anything containing them in the house. My wife has the decency to keep her Reeses stash in her desk at work." Adriana chuckled.
"That's a relief." Thaddeus leaned his elbows against the kitchen table. "The last time he had a reaction was quite difficult."
"Oh, don't remind me. It's been years since Brandon's last reaction, but I still remember exactly how it felt to see him hooked to a bunch of tubes in the hospital. One bad cookie and my world just about fell apart." She paused. "I shouldn't have troubled you like that."
"William's allergy isn't anywhere near as severe. Still, I understand the sentiment. Sounds awful."
"Well don't worry. The worst thing that the boys will worry about tonight is running out of ice cream. You don't know how happy Brandon was when he heard William could stay over. I'll call you again later tonight to let you know how they're doing, all right?"
"Would ten work?"
"Yes. And I'll keep it quick. Unlike some people, I hope to sleep tonight!"
The world moved on when Thaddeus turned his phone off and sat it on the table. Ever since the refrigerator had stopped humming a few minutes before, the house had gone silent. Reaching down, he tapped his fist against the table. Once, twice, and twice again. He repeated the movement and listened to it bounce off the walls.
"We need you."
The lab was never quiet. Someone was always tapping away on a keyboard or asking a coworker a question. Machines whirred and buzzed mechanical melodies. Neither was the university silent. Students chattered and played music and scribbled into notebooks.
Coming home, William always had something new to prattle on about. A book he'd read, how his friends were doing, what he was learning about in school. His answer of what he wanted to be when he grew up was always changing, sometimes fantastical and other times honorable. Silly questions often came up as well. Did Thaddeus miss his hair? Why were grown ups always complaining? Why could cows make milk and not juice?
Right then, even the whirring of a fan's blade would have been welcome. Most anything could block out the sins' whispers, at least if it was loud and long enough.
"Where are you?"
One need only turn on the nightly news to see that the wizard and his former champion had not vanquished evil from the world. The sins could have been locked in statues or banished to the bottom of a volcano or the depths of space. It was all the same, for their footprint was forever etched into the world and locked into the hearts of humankind.
No, humans didn't need the sins. They could fuck themselves over all by themselves, thank you very much. But-
"We need you!"
They might as well have been screaming.
Though his fingers had never quite touched the silver globe, had some part of him been left on it? A piece of him for them to clutch tightly to when their own prisons ate into their flesh, and the wizard gazed ahead from his throne with contempt?
"I'm coming."
He'd said the same before and he'd say it again. Say it until his lungs collapsed like deflated balloons and his tongue became too heavy for his mouth to hold. Say it until it was the truth and he held the eye in his hands.
"Thaddeus."
"I'm coming!"
Each day new data came in. Patients phoned in, hits came up in searches, and colleagues sent news. The path of his life, the path he'd been walking since he was nine years old and the car suddenly vanished from beneath him, grew shorter. If he could just go a little longer-
"Thaddeus!"
He threw his glass to the floor, and his plate soon after. Shards flew across the paneled marble, and glittered beneath the overhead lights. Hurrying off the stool, Thaddeus rushed to grab a broom. Glass cracked beneath his shoes, a constant, strangely calming noise. With the way his night was going, it might as well have been Mozart.
"And so the wizard gave the boy great power, for he was pure of heart. A noble goal, but a mistake all the same."
"What do you mean, Dad?"
"I said the boy was pure of heart, not that the wizard himself. Before, the boy might have been unlucky enough to see evil in the world on television or in newspapers. Maybe he even saw it in his own family. Once, the boy could only keep to himself and hope that evil didn't turn its eyes towards him. Now, though, he looked directly at evil and remembered his promise to destroy it."
