• 2025-11-08 *

Mercywood. Ilium, New York. Early October 1995.

Kid dialed The Squat.

Phone rang four times. No one answered. Kid hung up.

Kid dialed The Squat.

Phone rang four times. No one answered. Kid hung up.

Kid kept calling. Someone answered, eventually.

Phone rang two times. An unfamiliar voice answered, “Hello?”

“This is Kid. Who’s this? Is Late there?” Kids words were nearly running together. “I need to talk to him.”

“This is Diane, nice to talk to you finally,” the voice said. “Let me check.”

Kid could hear Diane put the phone down on The Squat’s kitchen table.

“Hey,” Late’s sleepy voice eventually came over the phone. “What’s up?”

“He stopped talking,” Kid said.

“What?” Late yawned. “What are you talking about?”

“Jerk. He stopped talking a couple of hours ago,” Kid said. “Just shakes his head when we ask him if he needs anything, but he won’t talk.”

“What happened?” Late asked, sleepiness suddenly banished.

“What do you mean? He stopped talking.”

“No, before that,” Late said. “He hasn’t done this since Clark.”

“He talked to Tiny,” Kid said. They didn’t know how to phrase what came next any other way. “Late, Norma has Leukemia.”

“Oh, crap,” Kid could hear Late cover his mouth as a sob came out.

“He’s done this before? What do I do?” Kid was pleading.

“Just...” Late hesitated. “I don’t know. Keep him warm. Give him time. Don’t push. He comes out of it on his own.”

“We gave him a blanket and Paulie got the fire going again. He was shaking like a leaf.”

“Good. I’m going to make some calls and see if they’ll let me through, we need to get him out of Mercywood,” Late said. “I’ll let you know.”

“Late,” Kid said, “Thank you.”

“I’m just watching out for Buddy.” Late’s voice broke. “Bye.”

“Bye,” Kid said, but Late had already hung up.

Kid hung the phone up and leaned against the wall next to forehead against their forearm, eyes closed. They could hear the chainsaws of Pinewoods’ grounds crew somewhere nearby.

They straightened and went back to the family room.

“Where’s Jerk?” Kid said, looking around. Paulie and Doyle were playing checkers, but Jerk was gone from the couch.

Paulie pointed up. “He stood up and wandered upstairs,” He said. “I think he went in his old room.”

“He had to have walked right by the kitchen,” Kid said. “I didn’t hear him.”

“I mean, this is where he learned to walk on eggshells,” Doyle said, moving his piece and capturing Paulie’s.

“Doy!” Paulie scolded him. He moved his piece. “King me.”

Doyle stacked the piece he had just captured on top of Paulie’s new king.

Kid smirked. “That was funny,” they said. Their voice turned serious. “Should I go up there?”

“I think he wanted a little space,” Doyle said as he considered the board.

Kid sighed and sat down.

“Can one of you explain to me what the deal is with Jerk and his mom?” Kid asked. “As far as I can tell, he never talks to her,” Kid said. “I haven’t even met her, just saw her in the passenger seat of Tiny’s car when I took out the trash while he was picking something up.”

Paulie and Doyle looked at each other.

“Norma put a lot of pressure on him, growing up,” Paulie said, turning towards Kid. “She was always bragging to everyone that he was going to go to MIT and be a rocket scientist, or Yale and become a doctor. Was different every time.”

“She treated him like a trained seal,” Doyle said, moving another piece and capturing another of Paulie’s.

“‘Buddy, tell everyone what you read today!’” Doyle’s imitation was cartoonish.

“Doy, that’s a horrible impression,” Paulie said turning back to the board. He captured two of Doyle’s pieces in one move. “She did do stuff like that, though.”

The pipes rattled, followed by the sound of water flowing through them.

“Sounds like he’s taking a shower,” Kid said. “Late’s trying to see if he can get us out of here.”

“In his car?” Paulie looked dubious. “Good luck.”

“Was there a big fight?” Kid asked. “Between Jerk and Norma.”

“‘My Buddy ran away!’” Doyle’s Norma impression bordered on a screech. Doyle made a disgusted noise. “They’ve barely spoken since.”

“Ran away?” Kid asked, head titled.

Doyle waved his hand dismissively. “He moved into The Squat, wasn’t a secret.”

“Guess that’s what he meant when he said the accident knocked some sense into him,” Kid said.

Kid stretched out on the couch and watched the fire while Paulie and Doyle kept playing checkers.

Paulie eventually won. “I’m going to check on Mom and Dad again,” He said, excusing himself.

Doyle looked thoughtful as he packed the pieces inside the wooden case that doubled as the board. “It was like meeting a new person, when junior year began,” Doyle sighed. “The guy I crushed on was nowhere to be seen.”

Kid blinked. “You crushed on him?”

Doyle looked at Kid, a sly smirk on his face. “Are you saying he’s not crush-worthy?”

Kid blushed, looking away and rubbing the back of their neck. “He doesn’t seem your type.”

“Not a lot of boys at Academy who could carry on a conversation about Tennessee Williams,” Doyle said, putting the board back with the other games on a shelf. “And God, those gray eyes.”

“You really were sweet on him,” Kid said, grinning.

“Don’t tell him,” Doyle said. “He was the first boy I came out to, last few days of sophomore year before I went back to Dad’s in Bennington.”

“When I did, he just said ‘that’s cool’ and started talking about gear ratios or whatever he was obsessed with that week.” Doyle smiled wistfully. “It was a little deflating.”

Kid laughed. “Okay, now that sounds like the guy I know.”

The murmurs of Paulie’s conversation ended in the next room. Doyle held his finger to his mouth before Paulie came back.

“Good news, I think,” Paulie announced as he came in. “Late’s beeped in. He’s borrowing Jackie’s Suburban.” Paulie looked relieved. “His little Honda has no legroom.”

“What about the cops?” Kid asked.

Paulie shrugged. “I didn’t ask, figured he had it handled.” He looked at Kid. “Can you go up and let him know Late’s on the way?”

The sound of the water in the pipes stopped.

“Maybe he’ll come down on his own?” Kid said with feigned hopefulness, and then looked sheepish. “I feel like I’d be intruding.”

“I’d rather not leave him alone too long,” Paulie said. “Not after the last couple of days.”

Kid nodded. “Yeah, you’re right.”

Kid climbed the stairs and found Jerk’s door at the end of the hallway to the addition. Above the door handle was a study looking deadbolt that had been added. Like the one on their door at The Squat.

They smiled to themself as they knocked. “Honey?”

Jerk didn’t answer. Kid knocked again.

“Honey, Late’s on his way.”

Kid heard the deadbolt unlock. Jerk opened the door and peeked out. His eyes were bloodshot, his hair still dripping wet.

Jerk nodded his head as if to say “Come in,” and walked away from the door, leaving it ajar.

Kid went in.

The room, like the kitchen, had white walls and narrow windows, with a gray carpet instead of linoleum. It was spartan. Desk, bookcase, a display case full of trophies, a full size bed, and a few posters: Einstein, Darwin, and a robot Kid didn’t recognize.

Jerk sat down on the bed, just wearing his boxers, the clothes he’d been wearing since the previous day in a pile on the floor. He hadn’t dried himself off. Kid could see goosebumps raised all over his body as they walked over to him.

Jerk picked up the blanket and wrapped it around himself. He gestured around the room and nodded.

“It’s cold in here,” Kid said. “I’m going to dry your hair off.”

Kid went into the bathroom, an unused towel hung from the rack. Kid grabbed it and brought it out, sitting next to Jerk.

Jerk stared at a point on the carpet while Kid dried his hair. Kid put the towel on the floor when they were done.

Jerk moved back on the bed and laid on it, holding the blanket open for Kid. Kid laid down facing him, and he wrapped the blanket around them too.

Kid began to stroke his cheek, and Jerk closed his eyes.

They waited for Late.

#arc-seven