times he turned the pillow over and back. He could still feel the fever on his forehead. But now, all he felt was the itch on his arm. He looked at the five empty chambers and scratched his arm with the barrel. It didn’t matter how much he scratched it, his arm kept itching. And he kept thinking. About one thing.
You need more than one bullet, Eddie. Listen to Grandma.
Special Ed got out of bed and walked pitter-pat downstairs. He went to the study, got a nice leather chair, and leaned his ear against the cold metal of his father’s gun safe. He started to turn the dial in three-number combinations. 1-1-1. 1-1-2. 1-1-3. All night. Because the war was coming, and the good guys needed to win the war. When dawn broke, Special Ed stopped his quest at 2-1-6 and went to his mother, asleep in the master bedroom. Alone. He was so happy that she was alive. He held her hand. The itch moved down his fingers to hers. Special Ed’s mother opened her eyes slowly. She looked at him sleepily and smiled. “What’s wrong with my Eddie?” she asked.
“Nothing, Mom. I feel much better,” he said.
“Good. I love you. I left you a slice of cake in the fridge,” she said. She patted his head, closed her eyes, and went back to sleep. Special Ed waited until she had drifted far away. Then, he kissed her forehead and whispered in her ear.
“Mom, what’s the combination to Dad’s gun safe?”
2:17
Jenny Hertzog stood over her sleeping stepbrother. The fever that had kept her home from school was gone. And there was nothing in its place except the itch, which twitched its way to the knife in her hand. She stared at her stepbrother. As angry as he had been after somebody ding-dong-ditched their house, woke up his mother, and stopped his afternoon fun. The moonlight made his face pasty and pale. His acne stood out like stars in the sky. She thought his blood would do his face some good. She could take his blood and color his cheeks rouge red like the whores in the movies he loved to watch on his computer. Or a clown. She took the knife and gently pressed it in the middle of his palm. He turned a little in bed, but he did not wake. Jenny closed her eyes and pushed the itch down her arm through the knife and into his skin. As the itch ate its way into her stepbrother’s filthy hands, she thought about her beautiful dream. Her mother was still alive. And Jenny’s father had never married that horrible woman with her even more horrible son. In her dream, Jenny saw her mother running through the backyard, hunting for Christopher. Jenny’s mother came rushing up with a little pet boy, but Christopher was too fast, and he disappeared down the street. Jenny’s mother chased after him, but she couldn’t catch up. So, she came back to Jenny’s backyard. She scaled the ivy walls into Jenny’s bedroom. She smelled so nice. Like Chanel No. 5. She held Jenny in her arms and listened to Jenny tell stories about school and dance practice. Jenny’s mother then explained that Jenny shouldn’t stab her stepbrother Scott. Because there was a war coming. And their side needed all the soldiers they could get. Jenny asked if she could kill Scott after the war was over. Her mother explained that she wouldn’t have to. All she would have to do was look up at the moon staring back at the Earth and say a little prayer.
“Wash him away, God. Wash him away in Floods. Floods.”
2:17
Mrs. Henderson stared at the clock as she stood in the warm kitchen. Mr. Henderson had finally come home. Without an explanation. Or an apology. But still, he was home. So, she made him his favorite meal, as she had more than a thousand times over the last fifty years. He didn’t notice. He didn’t care. Mrs. Henderson asked her husband if he remembered what today was. She waited for him to remember lifting the veil off her beautiful young face. Her red hair tumbling down over her shoulder on their wedding night. She waited for him to remember it was their anniversary. But he never did.
Because he doesn’t love you anymore.
Mrs. Henderson tried to kiss Mr. Henderson like it was their wedding night, but he pushed her away. Mrs. Henderson started crying when he said he didn’t want to