The 90's Kid

B A

“Where’s dad?” 

  The query froze the reunion like Cavis was pausing a VCR. Before, they had been crying over him, hugging him close, not even asking obvious questions like ‘Why are you in the body of a little high school kid’, or, the even more obvious one, ‘How are you even alive?’

  The Tanes had been taking a backseat, Ms. Tanes obviously uncomfortable with her child hugging and laughing with complete strangers like he knew them. She also looked impatient. 
  
 Teagan, on the other hand, was too immersed with the thing Cavis finally understood to be an iPhone to say anything, but it was obvious he was tense. Tenser still when the question Cavis asked left the room quiet. Stagnant. 

 And suddenly, Cavis knew the answer before it was ever hesitantly strung together by his mother or sister. Something in his gut sank and died. 

  “He’s dead, isn’t he?” 

  There was something to announcing the words into the empty, yet static filled air. Like at the decree being spoken out loud, it finally rang true in his ears. It was the thought he had been trying to ignore. There was something to the way his family responded, looking down from the face of a stranger like they were ashamed to admit the inevitable. And dear god did Cavis hurt in that moment. Emotionally, he hurt more than he ever did in a long time. But he told himself he would not cry. He would not lose his resolve over a man that hated him. He would not--

  10 minutes later, Cavis was still sobbing into his mother’s cardigan and squashed between his sister, feeling something like grief, but a variation extremely close to regret. 

  “Your…” his mother swallowed, “Your father never forgave himself for you dying, not really. When you hadn’t come home for about two years since he kicked you out,  him and me actually had a talk about letting you back into the house. He agreed, said he would genuinely apologize about being too harsh. He said he would apologize for talking about Kevin like that too, although you knew how he felt truly about that anyway. So, your dad planned to do it on Saturday, drive up to your campus to get you. But then, we got a phone call that Tuesday morning and…” 

  His mother stared into nothing, gripping Cavis even tighter to herself. Tears fell from her eyes slowly, silently. “Well, he never really got the chance, did he? He died in early 2003. Apparently walked into a random hospital and screamed your name over and over in a prenatal ward. I think they said he ran into a patient’s room, smiled, then walked out like nothing happened, out of the hospital, and into oncoming traffic. I was at work and quit the day of the event. When I got there, they said some medical nonsense that added up to him being a delusioned old man, overtaken by grief. I’ve never really known your dad to be any of those things, but…”

 She wavered off, tears falling faster now as she stared down at he own lap. Cavis knew he himself  was crying too, and could feel Beatrice shudder next to him. 

 “You know, after.. Dad, I always tried to make myself feel better by imagining that the both of you were in heaven, arguing about some technology or another, smiling because you both had made up or something.” There was an exhausted sort of mirth in Beatrice’s statement, like she was smiling and patronizing her own whimsical dreams. She then heaved big sigh. 

  “Guess I was wrong about that.” 

  The pain their little broken family harbored was hard for Cavis to bear. He could see the grief they all held for the past, never really letting it go, never really moving past it. Cavis hated it. Distraught and not wanting to feel it  a second longer, Cavis hopped off of the couch, shouting, 

  “Well that enough of that nonsense! Anyone wanna play video games?”

  Beatrice looked shocked at the sudden change in mood, then smiled. “You won’t believe how good I got at Street Fighter II.”