Read Online Gargantua by K. Robert Andreassi - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: K. Robert Andreassi
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Jack needed that drink Hale offered if he was going to get the image of Derek Lawson out of his head.
For the second time that day, Brandon wandered aimlessly down the main beach of Malau. I can’t believe Dad yelled at me. Dad never yells at me.
Something was wrong with Dad. Something serious. Brandon didn’t know what to do.
He realized he was back at the spot where he saw that family having the picnic.
Mom.
Mom would know what to do. Whenever Dad got upset, Mom knew how to make him feel better. Mom always listened to Brandon, too.
He picked up a pebble and skimmed it into the ocean, but it only bounced once. Great, here I am thinking I want my mommy.
But he did. I want Mom to be here so Dad won’t yell at me.
A shape washed up on the shore with the latest wave. Brandon looked down to see a wet, plastic disc. After a moment, he recognized it: the Frisbee that the guy with the dog threw into the ocean.
He picked it up and stared at it. Some lettering from the company that made it was written in a circle on one side.
I hate this place, Brandon decided. People get killed here, and Dad goes off and does things without me, and people look at me like it’s my fault that things are going wrong, and Dad gets angry for no reason, and Mom’s not here and I hate it!
He flung the Frisbee into the ocean as hard as he could.
The Frisbee flew into the night sky. Within seconds, Brandon couldn’t see it anymore. He had no idea if it landed in the water or kept going on and on forever until it reached somewhere better.
Brandon wished someone would do that for him. He wished he really was Captain Marvel like he sometimes pretended. Captain Marvel could fly. Brandon wanted to be able to fly so he could go somewhere else. Like home. He wanted to go back to San Diego and be in a real school and not be Dad’s stupid assistant or intern or whatever anymore.
Tears welled up in his eyes and he wiped them away. He was a big kid now, he wouldn’t cry.
He turned and ran back to the hotel. He ran through the lobby, almost knocking over one of the bellhops. It took him a minute to fumble with the key before he got it open. He slammed the door shut behind him, put the camcorder down on the table between the laptops, and crawled into the bed near the window, not even bothering to put on his pajamas or wash up and brush his teeth or anything.
Only then did he allow himself to start crying.
He had no idea how much later it was that Dad came in. Brandon lay on his side so all Dad could see was his back. Brandon had been staring out the window at the beach and the night sky.
“We can talk now if you want,” Dad said in a low voice.
Forget it, Brandon thought. Let him think I’m asleep. I can ignore him, too.
“Are you awake? Brandon?”
Nobody here but us sleeping kids.
After another minute, Brandon heard the door to the bathroom close. Then he closed his eyes and tried to sleep.
FOUR
I n all his various travels, Jack Ellway had noticed that restaurants that served breakfast looked different when they did so than when they did for lunch or dinner. He couldn’t really put his finger on what the difference was, but the morning meal suffused restaurants with a different atmosphere. Brighter, he thought, as he walked into Manny’s the following morning. Breakfast food’s brighter colored anyhow, so it makes sense.
He had been hoping to find Brandon. Unusually, Jack was up after his son; a typical morning had Jack trying every form of coercion he could think of to get Brandon out from under the covers, so for Brandon to be not only be up but gone had Jack worried. Not for the boy’s safety; if he was worried about that, he wouldn’t have left Brandon alone all day yesterday. No, what concerned Jack was how Brandon was feeling about his father right about now.
I can’t believe I snapped at him like that. After a moment’s thought: Of course you believe it, stupid. You’re always doing this, letting your feelings about
For the second time that day, Brandon wandered aimlessly down the main beach of Malau. I can’t believe Dad yelled at me. Dad never yells at me.
Something was wrong with Dad. Something serious. Brandon didn’t know what to do.
He realized he was back at the spot where he saw that family having the picnic.
Mom.
Mom would know what to do. Whenever Dad got upset, Mom knew how to make him feel better. Mom always listened to Brandon, too.
He picked up a pebble and skimmed it into the ocean, but it only bounced once. Great, here I am thinking I want my mommy.
But he did. I want Mom to be here so Dad won’t yell at me.
A shape washed up on the shore with the latest wave. Brandon looked down to see a wet, plastic disc. After a moment, he recognized it: the Frisbee that the guy with the dog threw into the ocean.
He picked it up and stared at it. Some lettering from the company that made it was written in a circle on one side.
I hate this place, Brandon decided. People get killed here, and Dad goes off and does things without me, and people look at me like it’s my fault that things are going wrong, and Dad gets angry for no reason, and Mom’s not here and I hate it!
He flung the Frisbee into the ocean as hard as he could.
The Frisbee flew into the night sky. Within seconds, Brandon couldn’t see it anymore. He had no idea if it landed in the water or kept going on and on forever until it reached somewhere better.
Brandon wished someone would do that for him. He wished he really was Captain Marvel like he sometimes pretended. Captain Marvel could fly. Brandon wanted to be able to fly so he could go somewhere else. Like home. He wanted to go back to San Diego and be in a real school and not be Dad’s stupid assistant or intern or whatever anymore.
Tears welled up in his eyes and he wiped them away. He was a big kid now, he wouldn’t cry.
He turned and ran back to the hotel. He ran through the lobby, almost knocking over one of the bellhops. It took him a minute to fumble with the key before he got it open. He slammed the door shut behind him, put the camcorder down on the table between the laptops, and crawled into the bed near the window, not even bothering to put on his pajamas or wash up and brush his teeth or anything.
Only then did he allow himself to start crying.
He had no idea how much later it was that Dad came in. Brandon lay on his side so all Dad could see was his back. Brandon had been staring out the window at the beach and the night sky.
“We can talk now if you want,” Dad said in a low voice.
Forget it, Brandon thought. Let him think I’m asleep. I can ignore him, too.
“Are you awake? Brandon?”
Nobody here but us sleeping kids.
After another minute, Brandon heard the door to the bathroom close. Then he closed his eyes and tried to sleep.
FOUR
I n all his various travels, Jack Ellway had noticed that restaurants that served breakfast looked different when they did so than when they did for lunch or dinner. He couldn’t really put his finger on what the difference was, but the morning meal suffused restaurants with a different atmosphere. Brighter, he thought, as he walked into Manny’s the following morning. Breakfast food’s brighter colored anyhow, so it makes sense.
He had been hoping to find Brandon. Unusually, Jack was up after his son; a typical morning had Jack trying every form of coercion he could think of to get Brandon out from under the covers, so for Brandon to be not only be up but gone had Jack worried. Not for the boy’s safety; if he was worried about that, he wouldn’t have left Brandon alone all day yesterday. No, what concerned Jack was how Brandon was feeling about his father right about now.
I can’t believe I snapped at him like that. After a moment’s thought: Of course you believe it, stupid. You’re always doing this, letting your feelings about
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