The Smallest Parallel

Chapter 3

Geoffrey was young when he discovered the meaning of life, well, the meaning of his life. He was sharp and inquisitive, with the world laid out in front of him like an endless treasure map. He knew exactly where his life would take him, and his hypothetical future excited him.

Geoffrey's mother was a mortician because she believed the job was practical despite its drawbacks and involvement with death. Miriam Wallace was a wonderful mortician and a loving mother despite her sometimes-rigid nature. She loved her son more than anything, and she took care in teaching him about the world.

"Though the world is a dangerous place Geoffrey, we must embrace our full potential before we leave. Our departure from this world, while saddening, can leave many wonderful things behind. You have the potential to do whatever it is that you want to do, and I will always believe in you."

At age seven, Geoffrey decided that he wanted to be a detective. He would explore the deepest parts of the woods and sometimes try to determine the cause of death for some of his mother's clients. While Miriam already knew that cause of death, she supported her son's interests. As much as death frightened him, it also activated his curiosity and intrigued his small mind. I'm not being rude, children are typically small minded due to the fact that they have not yet developed an abstract thought process.

Geoffrey's father wasn't as involved as Miriam was, but he loved his son. He was often busy because of his job. Christopher Wallace was a detective working for the local police. He was often out on stakeouts or undercover. Geoffrey looked up to his father despite their emotional distance. For a while, Miriam had only believed that Geoffrey wanted to be a detective to please his father. She understood the Geoffrey saw little beyond the limited world they'd created for him.

At night, Geoffrey would fantasize about a world in which he and his father would solve crimes together. They'd be without the distance, and his mother would be waiting when they arrived home, always smiling her knowing smile. Geoffrey wondered why she always smiled, despite the morbidity of her work and the absence of her husband. She always hid behind a gleaming smile, like a plastic doll with a permanent grin. She was a courageous woman, and Geoffrey knew that he had inherited her dependence on practicality. She always said that death was the most reliable field to work in.

One night, Geoffrey sat on the edge of his bed, silently watching the window and awaiting the sound of his father pulling into the driveway. He lay there with the curtain pulled open, his head resting at the foot of the bed as his feet gently tapping the headboard. He thought about what most six-year-old boys think about- adventure and exploration- yet he believed that his cowardice would be an obstacle. He was coated with cowardice bathed in fear. He'd been a meek and frightened boy for most of his life.

He looked up as he saw the distant gleam of headlights on the desolate road. He and his parents lived on the street at the end of the world. Marguerite lived nearby, but they were separated by a heavily wooded area. Like Marguerite, Geoffrey's mother enjoyed living in isolation. She enjoyed the peace and quiet that gave her the ability to better focus on her work.

As he heard his father's key turn in the lock and the following sound of shoes hitting the stairs, Geoff ducked under the covers quickly and pretended that he had fallen asleep. The hall light streamed in, hitting the room and causing Geoffrey to adjust his eyes as his authoritative father stood in the doorway, a solemn look upon his face. He strode over to the twin-sized bed and sat down beside his son, whose wide eyes looked back at him in wonder. Christopher placed his head in his hands and sighed heavily, the smell of alcohol on his breath.

He spoke quietly and with a serious tone. He looked over at Geoffrey, tears in his eyes. Geoffrey had never seen his father cry. It was then that the man began to speak. It was the most Geoffrey had ever heard from his father at once.