"I just don't understand where he got this notion," Paul said, inspecting the shake bottle of clumpy yellow slurry. "I'm not even going to be drinking it and it's making me sick. Probably from his friends." He glanced at his nine-year-old son, asleep in the dentist's chair. "Yeah, everything went fine. He's going to be waking up soon. All four came out, no problem."
His son, Jake, had cotton packed inside his mouth as he sat in a tilted-back dentist's chair under a bright yellow lamp. The hygienist came in and gently woke Jake. "Gotta go Lisa, he's waking up." He frowned as his wife went on talking. "What? Today? That's today?" He ran a hand through his hair. "Oh. Oh no."
He hung up. "Can you wake him up faster?" he said to the hygienist. "I kind of have an emergency."
The hygienist glared at him. "He's not going to be going anywhere for a few minutes, sir. If he tries to stand he'll do little more than fall on his face. If you had an emergency you shouldn't have scheduled this procedure."
"Do you know what an emergency is?" Paul asked. "Fine, but the sooner we get out of here the better."
Jake's eyes cracked open, then fell shut. A moment later they opened again. "Where's my face?"
"It's there, bud," Paul said. "It's just numb. How do you feel?"
Jake said nothing, staring at a ceiling corner, mouth hanging open. "Do you think the building is made of spiders?"
"Uh, no Jake, I don't."
"But what if the spiders are all little buildings?"
"Are they always like this?" Paul asked the hygienist. She nodded.
"What if they get me, dad? What if the spiders get me and turn me into spiders?"
"The spiders aren't going to get you, bud. We're going to get home, soon I hope, unmolested."
"Unmolested." Jake sucked in a lungful of air, whistling it past the cotton filling his mouth. He looked at his father, eyes wide and glazed. "Dad, can you fly yet?"
Paul did a double-take. "No Jake, not just yet." Paul looked over his shoulder at the hygienist "How long does this take?"
"A few more minutes and he'll be ready to go."
Indeed, a few minutes later the dentist entered the room and spoke to Jake, who began responding in clearer thoughts, though still tired and a little loopy, and mumbling the word “unmolested” to himself. Ten minutes later Paul paid the bill.
"We're headed home," Paul said as he helped Jake get into the back seat of the car. "You want your...shake...now?"
"Yeah. Shake."
Paul handed over the shake bottle of yellow mush and got behind the wheel, peeling out of the parking lot. "We're going to have to go pretty quickly, Jake. Your mom called and reminded me of something." He hunched forward, squinting into the sun. "Please try not to spill anything."
Jake already guzzled, and when he came up for air the smell of cold, ground-up popcorn filled the SUV. Paul wrinkled his nose and merged onto the freeway. "How's the pain?"
Jake said nothing, staring open-mouthed out the door. The hygienist had removed the cotton, and a little bit of drool hung from his bottom lip. He ignored his father and slurped down more blended popcorn.
"Why is there so much traffic during the middle of the morning?" Paul muttered, and merged into the leftmost lane.
"Dad, don't be so loud," Jake said, pressing his forehead against the window.
"Loud? I wasn't being loud."
"Dad, I just want to drink my shake."
"Popcorn isn't a shake," Paul said to himself. He sped up and changed lanes.
"Yes it is! Yes it is a shake! And it tastes good!" Jake started crying, words dissolving into a mass of blubbers and half-formed syllables.
He then started banging his palm on the window. "Jake, don't do that!" Paul reached back and tried to grab the boy's hand. "You could hurt yourself!"
Moving too fast, he swerved on the freeway, missing another car's bumper by an inch. A siren split the air behind him. "Ah for...."
He guided his car to the side of the road, and the police car parked behind him. A scowling black officer got out and tapped on his window. Paul rolled it down. "I'm sorry officer, my son's just had his-"
"Dad, don't!"
"He's just had his wisdom teeth out, and he was banging on the window. I was just trying to get him to stop."
The officer snorted. "Is that why you were speeding, too?"
"Ah, well, actually, there's something kind of important at home I have to get to-"
"Dad, stop talking to him!"
"I have to talk to him, Jake, he's a police officer."
"I JUST WANT TO DRINK MY POPCORN UNMOLESTED!"
Paul shut his eyes. When he opened them, the officer already had his ticket book out.
They arrived home and Paul rushed Jake inside, where the boy collapsed on the couch. Lisa waited in the kitchen. "They just got here," she said and pointed out the window. A pair of bright-red cardinals jabbered at each other from the bird feeder. "One of the most important days of the year, and you forgot." She shook her head. "It's a good thing I'm here to keep you focused."
His son, Jake, had cotton packed inside his mouth as he sat in a tilted-back dentist's chair under a bright yellow lamp. The hygienist came in and gently woke Jake. "Gotta go Lisa, he's waking up." He frowned as his wife went on talking. "What? Today? That's today?" He ran a hand through his hair. "Oh. Oh no."
He hung up. "Can you wake him up faster?" he said to the hygienist. "I kind of have an emergency."
The hygienist glared at him. "He's not going to be going anywhere for a few minutes, sir. If he tries to stand he'll do little more than fall on his face. If you had an emergency you shouldn't have scheduled this procedure."
"Do you know what an emergency is?" Paul asked. "Fine, but the sooner we get out of here the better."
Jake's eyes cracked open, then fell shut. A moment later they opened again. "Where's my face?"
"It's there, bud," Paul said. "It's just numb. How do you feel?"
Jake said nothing, staring at a ceiling corner, mouth hanging open. "Do you think the building is made of spiders?"
"Uh, no Jake, I don't."
"But what if the spiders are all little buildings?"
"Are they always like this?" Paul asked the hygienist. She nodded.
"What if they get me, dad? What if the spiders get me and turn me into spiders?"
"The spiders aren't going to get you, bud. We're going to get home, soon I hope, unmolested."
"Unmolested." Jake sucked in a lungful of air, whistling it past the cotton filling his mouth. He looked at his father, eyes wide and glazed. "Dad, can you fly yet?"
Paul did a double-take. "No Jake, not just yet." Paul looked over his shoulder at the hygienist "How long does this take?"
"A few more minutes and he'll be ready to go."
Indeed, a few minutes later the dentist entered the room and spoke to Jake, who began responding in clearer thoughts, though still tired and a little loopy, and mumbling the word “unmolested” to himself. Ten minutes later Paul paid the bill.
"We're headed home," Paul said as he helped Jake get into the back seat of the car. "You want your...shake...now?"
"Yeah. Shake."
Paul handed over the shake bottle of yellow mush and got behind the wheel, peeling out of the parking lot. "We're going to have to go pretty quickly, Jake. Your mom called and reminded me of something." He hunched forward, squinting into the sun. "Please try not to spill anything."
Jake already guzzled, and when he came up for air the smell of cold, ground-up popcorn filled the SUV. Paul wrinkled his nose and merged onto the freeway. "How's the pain?"
Jake said nothing, staring open-mouthed out the door. The hygienist had removed the cotton, and a little bit of drool hung from his bottom lip. He ignored his father and slurped down more blended popcorn.
"Why is there so much traffic during the middle of the morning?" Paul muttered, and merged into the leftmost lane.
"Dad, don't be so loud," Jake said, pressing his forehead against the window.
"Loud? I wasn't being loud."
"Dad, I just want to drink my shake."
"Popcorn isn't a shake," Paul said to himself. He sped up and changed lanes.
"Yes it is! Yes it is a shake! And it tastes good!" Jake started crying, words dissolving into a mass of blubbers and half-formed syllables.
He then started banging his palm on the window. "Jake, don't do that!" Paul reached back and tried to grab the boy's hand. "You could hurt yourself!"
Moving too fast, he swerved on the freeway, missing another car's bumper by an inch. A siren split the air behind him. "Ah for...."
He guided his car to the side of the road, and the police car parked behind him. A scowling black officer got out and tapped on his window. Paul rolled it down. "I'm sorry officer, my son's just had his-"
"Dad, don't!"
"He's just had his wisdom teeth out, and he was banging on the window. I was just trying to get him to stop."
The officer snorted. "Is that why you were speeding, too?"
"Ah, well, actually, there's something kind of important at home I have to get to-"
"Dad, stop talking to him!"
"I have to talk to him, Jake, he's a police officer."
"I JUST WANT TO DRINK MY POPCORN UNMOLESTED!"
Paul shut his eyes. When he opened them, the officer already had his ticket book out.
They arrived home and Paul rushed Jake inside, where the boy collapsed on the couch. Lisa waited in the kitchen. "They just got here," she said and pointed out the window. A pair of bright-red cardinals jabbered at each other from the bird feeder. "One of the most important days of the year, and you forgot." She shook her head. "It's a good thing I'm here to keep you focused."