Categories > Original > Drama > Separation
September 01, 1979
“Hello?”
“…Pop?” Although not on intimate terms with his grandfather, Charles had still managed to work out appropriate nomenclature for him.
“Yes. Hello, Charles.”
“What’s up?” Calls were rare, visits fewer still. Whatever the reason for the contact, it was more than likely business-related. They were both more comfortable with that than family matters.
There was silence on the line as Julian searched through mental cue cards. Perhaps it was best to be blunt.
“It’s about your friend.”
It was Charles’ turn to stretch the silence. “Which one?”
As if he didn’t know. “Mr. Kalahearn.”
Perhaps a beat longer than necessary. “What about him?”
“He’s doing well by all accounts, but Dr. Straussen and I were hoping to solicit your opinion on a few things.”
“Like what?” If Ray was fine, what the hell were they bothering him for? Although it was nice to know that the guy was alright. Charles simply felt his involvement with the ‘Color Kids’ had come to a close. They had no use for him, and he had no interest in them.
“Karl feels the boy isn’t recovering as well as he could be.”
“Pop, the guy nearly had his fuckin’ head taken off. He’s breathing unaided. That’s an accomplishment in and of itself.”
“I appreciate the compliment,” his grandfather replied, unfazed. “However, I agree with Karl’s concerns. You know the Swallowhaven psychics ruled Raymond a Burnout?”
“Old news,” Charles scoffed. “Besides, he’s better off this way. No more seizures or blood or any of the other fun stuff. He’s got his friends and his family talking to him again. Happy endings all around.”
“Charles.”
Uh-oh. The Voice of Adult Authority rippling through the phone lines triggered an automatic cringe down Charles’ spine.
“...yes?”
“Don't be an ass. I, for one, am not convinced and there are others who wonder as well. Besides, I think an explanation is owed concerning your recent behavior.”
“Regarding what?”
“Why you weren’t there to welcome him home.”
“The hell I do,” Charles growled. “He knows damn well why I wasn’t there.”
“I assure you, he does not.” Julian insisted, his tone becoming more brisk and business-like with each syllable. “As a matter of fact, I’m rather curious about it myself. However, that’s your business. Regardless, I think it would please him to see you again. He hasn’t said as much, but it’s fairly obvious he misses you.”
Charles let his arm drop to one side, his grandfather’s words circling in his mind. Alex must not have said anything. Then again, why would he? Why should he, Charles, bother with any of this? What did he owe any of them? And yet...
Raising the phone to his ear once more, he spoke.
“When do you need me?”
“Hello?”
“…Pop?” Although not on intimate terms with his grandfather, Charles had still managed to work out appropriate nomenclature for him.
“Yes. Hello, Charles.”
“What’s up?” Calls were rare, visits fewer still. Whatever the reason for the contact, it was more than likely business-related. They were both more comfortable with that than family matters.
There was silence on the line as Julian searched through mental cue cards. Perhaps it was best to be blunt.
“It’s about your friend.”
It was Charles’ turn to stretch the silence. “Which one?”
As if he didn’t know. “Mr. Kalahearn.”
Perhaps a beat longer than necessary. “What about him?”
“He’s doing well by all accounts, but Dr. Straussen and I were hoping to solicit your opinion on a few things.”
“Like what?” If Ray was fine, what the hell were they bothering him for? Although it was nice to know that the guy was alright. Charles simply felt his involvement with the ‘Color Kids’ had come to a close. They had no use for him, and he had no interest in them.
“Karl feels the boy isn’t recovering as well as he could be.”
“Pop, the guy nearly had his fuckin’ head taken off. He’s breathing unaided. That’s an accomplishment in and of itself.”
“I appreciate the compliment,” his grandfather replied, unfazed. “However, I agree with Karl’s concerns. You know the Swallowhaven psychics ruled Raymond a Burnout?”
“Old news,” Charles scoffed. “Besides, he’s better off this way. No more seizures or blood or any of the other fun stuff. He’s got his friends and his family talking to him again. Happy endings all around.”
“Charles.”
Uh-oh. The Voice of Adult Authority rippling through the phone lines triggered an automatic cringe down Charles’ spine.
“...yes?”
“Don't be an ass. I, for one, am not convinced and there are others who wonder as well. Besides, I think an explanation is owed concerning your recent behavior.”
“Regarding what?”
“Why you weren’t there to welcome him home.”
“The hell I do,” Charles growled. “He knows damn well why I wasn’t there.”
“I assure you, he does not.” Julian insisted, his tone becoming more brisk and business-like with each syllable. “As a matter of fact, I’m rather curious about it myself. However, that’s your business. Regardless, I think it would please him to see you again. He hasn’t said as much, but it’s fairly obvious he misses you.”
Charles let his arm drop to one side, his grandfather’s words circling in his mind. Alex must not have said anything. Then again, why would he? Why should he, Charles, bother with any of this? What did he owe any of them? And yet...
Raising the phone to his ear once more, he spoke.
“When do you need me?”
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