Page 22 of Cryptic Curse
“Who’s coming, Dad?”Robin asks, her voice on edge.
“Robbie, stop,” Mom says.“He can’t answer you.He’s frustrated.Don’t make this harder on him.Don’t shame him.”
At Mom’s use of the word shame, Dad gets more agitated.
“Coming,” he says.“Limits fall coming.”
More nonsense.
My father and I have our problems, for sure, but in this moment I feel sympathy for him.How frustrating it must be not to be able to articulate your own thoughts.
“They’re coming,” he says again.
“Daddy,” Robin says, “could you write down what you want to say?”
Dad nods at that.
“Get a pad of paper,” Robin yells.
“I’ve got one.”Raven pulls a small notepad out of her purse along with a pen.“Here you go, Daddy.”She hands it to him.
My father holds the pen correctly.Good.His hands work.He begins writing.
But when he hands the note to Mom, she furrows her brow.
“What does it say?”Raven asks.
“It’s just scribbling.”She crumples up the paper.“Stop putting him through this.”
“They’re coming,” Dad says again.
“Could you type it out on a phone?”Falcon asks.“Or a laptop, maybe?”
Dad nods again, this time vehemently.
I take my phone out of my pocket and open the notes app.“Here, Dad.Try this.”
He picks up my phone, his thumbs flipping over the keyboard.If I didn’t know better, I’d say he knows exactly what he’s doing.
But when he hands the phone back to me, it’s only gibberish.
Dad is nodding at me.“They’re coming, bird.They’re coming.”
Bird.Did he mean to say Hawk?
“Who’s coming, Daddy?”Robin asks again.
That’s Robbie.She doesn’t let anything rest.
“They’re coming,” he says again, more agitated.
Grace walks in.“His pulse is going up,” she says.“Is everything okay in here?”
“I told you to stop,” Mom snaps at Robin.
Classic Mom.Robin and I have always been the redheaded stepchildren of our family.
“We were just trying to communicate with him,” I say.“He’s getting frustrated because he can’t get his words out.”
