Bad Boy Judah

f o r t y f o u r

"How often are his asthma attacks in the last six months?" Dr. Schapiro asks me, as he presses his stethoscope on little Ryder's chest.

"It's gone down to twice a week," I nod.

He nods as well and tells Ryder to take deep breaths.

I decide to make funny faces behind the doctor's back to make Ryder giggle. It's to make him less nervous, since he's not fond of doctors—or anyone really. It helps me too to relax, because I've developed a phobia for doctors, clinics, and hospitals...

Minutes after the checkup, Dr. Shapiro prescribes two medicines for Ryder's inhalers. I thank him, Ryder gets a fruit-to-go, and we go.

As we descend the stairs, Ryder waves his snack above his head. I take it and split the wrapper open for him. While he munches, I fix his hat. The sun in the sky deceives us, because it's treacherously chilly.

As if on cue, an expensive black car pulls up by the curb. I had forgotten.

A well-dressed Judah pops up and walks towards us. I lift my hand above my eyes, shielding them from the sun.

I wasn't ready to meet him, though. My lip twitches.

"How are you?" he starts.

"Fine," I shrug. I drop my hand and look down at the ground.

He smiles just a bit, "Slept well?"

"I had better nights," I say, before glancing at little Ryder.

He uses my legs as a wall, I guess to hide. He probably thinks Judah is just another irritating guy I'm dating. He never liked any of them. He always gave them a hard time.

I decide to hurry things up, before he throws a tantrum. Besides, I rather not be seen next to Judah for too long.

"So, uh..." I look around, without finding something to say.

Judah offers, "Should we get something to eat?"

"Alright," I agree.

Judah takes a step back to his car, looking away and squinting his eyes from the sun.

"I got a car seat for Ryder," he tells me.

Speechless, I advance to his car. He remembered the lame excuse I had made. My hand tries to retrieve Ryder, but he's not keen.

"Hey, Ryder," Judah kneels to Ryder's level, "Want to drive my car?"

That did it for him, because little Ryder jumps in excitement. I don't get what's up with them and cars.

I stand around, as the two of them play pretend in the driver's seat. Why are they basically the same person? It's eerie.

Ryder makes vroom-vroom sounds and holds the large steering wheel in his tiny hands. I stuff my hands in my pockets, watching them. Judah sings like police sirens, threatening to pull Ryder over.

"Stop in the name of the law," Judah picks Ryder up, throwing him over his shoulder. "You're going to jail buddy."

Ryder giggles like he's crazy, trying to fight Judah off.

"Aha! No!"

Judah lands him in his new car seat, strapping him in.

"Yes. You were driving too fast. You're a bad boy," Judah laughs evilly, impersonating a police officer.

Judah tickles little Ryder, making him scream.

"I'm good boy! I'm good boy!" he cries out in laughter.