he was about to burst into tears. His eyes glistened like wet marbles in the firelight, and the lines on his face deepened into shadow that looked like thin ink lines.
“Stop picking on him, will you?” Jeff said. “For Christ’s sake.”
But Evan ignored him as he stared at Fred, still pressuring him. Jeff wanted to tell Evan that he was acting like a bastard, that he shouldn’t be picking on Fred or anyone else like this. Why was he being so pushy about it? They should all act like adults here, not turn it into some kind of Lord of the Flies thing.
After another short, tense silence, Fred took a deep breath and let it out in a long puff as he turned to look at Evan with a steady, empty stare.
“You really want to know? The worst thing I ever did?” His voice was low and shaky. “I’ll tell you, and you’re gonna wish to God you’d never asked.”
“No. Wait,” Jeff said, waving his hands impatiently. “You don’t have to tell us anything, Fred.” He looked at the others. “This isn’t fair.”
But Jeff could see that something inside Fred had snapped. Any second now he was going to flip out and let them all have it. Jeff wished he could scream at both Evan and Fred to just shut the fuck up, but he fell silent as he waited for the explosion.
“I … I killed one of my kids,” Fred finally said, breaking the silence that had settled over them. He heaved a phlegmy sigh that rattled in his throat.
The confession hit them all like an exploding bomb. For a long time, no one said a word as Fred and Evan stared at each other. Fred had a blank stare, and his lower lip was trembling. Evan looked like—for once-he had no idea what to say.
“There! You happy?” Tears filled Fred’s eyes and ran in glistening streaks down his cheeks.
“Shut up for once, will you just shut the fuck up?” Fred shouted. There was pain and rage on his face, and Jeff realized he had never seen Fred like this, either as a kid or as an adult.
“How … how’d it happen?” Tyler asked, his voice laced with sympathy. “I mean … if you don’t want to talk about it, I understand.”
“Jesus, man,” Mike said as he reached out and placed a hand on Fred’s knee. Fred flinched at the touch and drew back.
“That’s gotta be …” Tyler said, but then his voice faltered because he obviously didn’t know what else to say.
Fred sniffed loudly and wiped his eyes with the palms of his hands. Jeff thought he looked diminished, somehow, and so sad and vulnerable. He wondered how Evan was taking this, but the truth was—he didn’t care.
Fuck Evan! He thought. If he feels like shit now—good! … He deserves it.
“It was our second child … our first son. We named him Alex.”
Fred’s voice hitched and closed off with a loud click. This was obviously taking a great deal of effort, but Jeff had the feeling, as tough as it was to talk about, this might be exactly what Fred needed … especially since he obviously had been bottling it inside for so long.
“He … he was born with a—uh, a brain defect.” He narrowed his eyes as though in pain and clenched his hands into fists. “I don’t want to go into all the medical bullshit, but I lived with it for so long … so goddamned long. The bottom line was, the doctors all said Alex would be severely retarded all his life, and there was no hope of a cure, so one night—one night—”
Again, his voice closed off as more tears flowed from his eyes. He leaned forward, cupping his face in his hands and resting his elbows on his knees as he sobbed. Mike moved his hand to Fred’s shoulder and patted him, but Fred gave no evidence that he noticed the touch.
“Take it easy there, buddy,” Mike cooed softly.
With his face still buried in his hands, his voice muffled, Fred continued.
“We already had a child—a girl, Lara, and she was—she is the brightest little thing you’d ever want to meet, thank God. She’s fourteen now, and she’s not giving us any trouble like you hear about from teenagers these days. But Alex … he … I just … I couldn’t face it, you know?”