Cadaverous Love

Chapter Fifty-Seven

Chapter 57

Dallas

I wake up in a pouring sweat, sitting straight up, my heart thumping in my ears. I turn to the clock on the wall: 2:55. Then to the window where the frosty, afternoon sunlight beats against the grey tinted glass. Then to Emily, she is still dead asleep, mouth open, hair askew, and sweat beads decorating her hairline. I wipe them off with the back of my fingers. I decide I'll go get her some breakfast before she wakes up. Pancakes, waffles, biscuits? What should I get her?

--

The styrofoam boxes are heavy and hot in my hands; full of waffles, hash browns, and eggs. Teetering on top of them is the little glass bottle of maple syrup I snagged off of the shelf behind the restaurant's front counter.

The food is the only good smell in the entirety of the building, it wafts through like a buttery dream just to collide with the cold metallic stink of the hospital.

I step into Emily's room to see her still asleep in her bed.

"Emily," I say, approaching the middle of the room where she lays, "Princess, I got us some breakfast." Even if I shouldn't, I try to wake her up to eat.

Setting the food to the side, I shake her shoulder gently. "Come on, Em. I know it's tough but you gotta wake up for some food. You gotta." I shake her some more before my heart races in my head, a thousand miles a minute. "Emily," my voice rises, "Emily, come on." I repeat her name, again and again, louder and louder until the only sound in my ears is my own voice. "Emily," I call out one last time before doctors and nurses sweep the room, and I am brushed outside like a dust pile on to a porch.

--

Sodapop

"Do you believe in magic?" A little voice sounds from beside me on the couch, his word's working around the thumb in his mouth.

"Yeah," I nod, "Think'so anyway, what about you?"

"Mhmh." Mio hums, "of course. How else would God have made the earth? He made it with magic." He snuggles closer to me, searching for protection against the chill that comes in bursts through the front windows. Tucked into the crook of his arm is a teddy bear with one eye, and he moves to hold it to his nose with one hand, his other hand held to his mouth where his thumb is stuck.

"I guess so," I agree, my mind shifting the thoughts unevenly back and forth in my head; How else would God have made the earth? My attention is suddenly broken by the slam of the door next to us. Dallas comes staggering in, his face glazed over with a hurt I cannot describe. He doesn't great us, he doesn't even look at us. There's a can of beer in his hand; he doesn't seem drunk, his tolerance is a little too high for that, not even if he drank four or five, he is just angry.

He sits down heavily on the loveseat, the weight of the world crashing down with him with a thud.

"Hi Mr. Dallas," Mio pipes up, eager and bold, for the first time ever.

Dallas' eyes flicker up to Mio with no expression, and without as much as a shift in the way his eyes burn the thing he looks at, he lets his gaze return back to the floor without a sound.

"Dallas," Darry steps into the room, announcing himself with his loud presence, "how is she?" Dal ignores Darry, keeping his body stiff. "I said how is she?" Darry repeats.

Dal cracks his neck with one sharp jerk of his head, he looks to Darry, a fire ablaze in his eyes. "What did you ask me?" He asks, mouth left open, shifting it back and forth with a taut jaw.