Chapter 105

Rawle’s neck was killing. It felt like the vertebrae were being ground together into a million pieces. He could not move. His limbs felt liquid like a bunch of long water balloons.
Athan got off his back- at least he could feel that- and padded away into the living room, or maybe upstairs, it was hard to tell.
He knew this was a very bad situation. Kelloway would not be home for hours. Even Porkbutt was outside. Why did no one hear the gunshots? Will someone call the cops?
Some kids set off firecrackers in the student ghetto area, recently. What if everybody thought the gunshots were firecrackers? Rawle thought, panicking.
His heart was thudding painfully in his chest. For the first time in his life, he wondered if today was the day it might stop.
He could feel the helplessness of it. His body might just decide to shut down, and there would be nothing he could do about it, except slowly suffocate inside himself. He wanted to scream.
He could hear Athan padding back into the kitchen in his bare feet. His little diaper was ruffling.
He crouched down at Rawle’s head and his face came into view. This time he was drinking from a sippy cup with dregs of warm apple juice in it.
He took it out o fhis mouth and the cup made a suction sound. “Dad? Wha-loo doing?”
“Hi, bud,” Rawle groaned, in a quiet voice.
“Daddee-yah! Look a-all la walote!”
“Yeah, bud. Water… Athan?”
“Walote!” Athan patted a pool of syrupy blood with the palm of his hand, splashing it around. The blood stained his little white hand. Droplets tickled Rawle’s cheek.
“Athan!” Rawle whispered as loud and as forcefully as he could with gritted teeth. His head felt like it was splitting open. Athan stopped splashing and looked over. “Dad?”
“Athan. Don’t.”
“Sowwy dad. Sowwy.”
“It’s OK, bud… Athan?” Rawle’s lungs burned as he tried to speak. “Can you get the phone? The phone’s ringing… Athan.” Rawle tried to get him to grab the cordless phone. Athan often ran and grabbed the cordless phone when it rang or when the kettle boiled and brought it to hs dad or mom.
Athan stood up and began to walk away, ruffling in his diaper over to the staircase where the cordless phone was often kept. Rawle felt a flash of hope.
“-Phone, phone, phone, phone…” Athan babbled.
Thank God, Rawle thought.
But then he heard the shuffling vear off into the living room it sounded like, behind the wall. Dammit.
After a few minutes of playing with trucks and police cars in his toy box, Rawle heard Athan start heading back intot he kitchen again. All Rawle could hear was the shrill, annoying computerized voice of a Sesame Steet muppet.
“-Let’s play. Let’s play-let’s play…”
Athan waddled over to the window where Rawle lay motionless in a pool of gelling blood and held out a baby blue and orange coloured toy Elmo cellphone to Rawle’s ear. Athan dropped the toy on the floor in front of Rawle’s face and then waddled away.
“You-elcome, daddee.”