The evening was about as awkward and as difficult as it could be. The boys were not totally unused to their father being gone for stretches of time, and they even had a reasonable idea (at least Richard did) that perhaps what we called "work" was not exactly legal. However, their mother had never seemed too upset about it before, and that night something was clearly different.
Fear of their mother's volatile emotional state forced both boys into relative silence, and they hardly made eye contact even with each other, much less their mother. When it was time to eat their supper, they did so quietly and plainly, then got up almost in unison to get ready for bed. They heard the sounds of their mother cleaning up from the evening meal, then the front door loudly closing as she left them alone. While in other cases the children would have been frightened to be home by themselves after dark, this night it was a relief.
Instantly young Vance launched off a torrent of questions to his brother. Why was Dad hiding? Who was he hiding from? Why was that stupid constable Terrence looking for him? What did Mom mean about his friends? He was nearly bouncing in angst and excitement as he spit question after question at Richard, without even waiting for an answer.
Richard grabbed him by both shoulders, stooped down to his level, and said "Shut up, Vance. I can't even think when you do that. Besides, who knows how long Mom will be gone - let's go to bed, and if you promise to just be quiet and listen, I'll tell you what I can."
As any six-year-old boy, Vance could make such a promise readily, but was very unlikely to keep it, and they both knew it. Still, they quickly finished getting ready, extinguished the light, and climbed into the small bed that they shared. Richard took a deep breath and sighed.
"You know how Dad goes away for work some times, for like...a long time? Like almost a whole week?" Vance nodded. "OK, so some of the other kids say that he is doing bad stuff when he is gone. I don't know, I don't think that Dad is a bad guy. But some of the people he works with seem pretty bad to me, so maybe. I tried to ask him about it once but he wouldn't even answer me. He just sent me outside. I heard Mrs. Gowtha telling people that Dad and his friends take stuff from other people, in other cities, and hide it here in Khartok until they can sell it. That doesn't sound so good." Richard trailed off and looked away, so Vance couldn't see he was on the verge of tears.
"Oh, like his special hiding place with all the boxes and things. I know all about that!" Vance piped up. "One time Dad took me out shopping and he said he had to get something for Mom, and then he went over to this big wall, and the wall opened up, and there were lots of stuff inside - when he got something out of one of the boxes, the wall closed up again and we went home!"
Vance was speaking a mile a minute, thrilled to have a piece of knowledge that Richard didn't. "He told me it was a secret though, that it was special because most people don't have something like that. But I don't think it's bad, I think it's just where he hides our presents and his things he doesn't want Mom to use or throw away or break."
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"Hmm, I don't know, Vance. I guess we'll see tomorrow. Mom seems more angry than worried, so he's probably OK. Maybe he is with his friends...now, let's get some sleep." Richard rolled over, still clearly upset. Vance looked out the window for a while, nervous for the new day, and eventually, his eyes became too heavy to bear. Sleep was fitful, filled with dreams that disturbed him, but which he would not remember the next day. Dreams of angry voices and injured people, punctuated by flashes of light.
When morning came, Vance and Richard got up and found that they were still alone. They had never been home by themselves for a whole night, and weren't sure what to do. They were hungry, scared, and worried about their parents.
As they dressed, they fought about going out, or staying home, about if they should eat something or go right away, and if their mother had come home and already left again, or hadn't come home at all. This last question was quickly answered when they heard the front door loudly open and shut, and they saw their mother, still in last nights' clothes and looking exhausted.
She eyed them for a minute, then went and sat down on the sofa. Her clothes were dirty, her hair was a mess, and she seemed to be shaking a little. Neither of the boys had ever seen her so disheveled, and weren't sure what to make of the situation. Vance approached cautiously, wanting reassurance but unsure that it was entirely safe to bother her. Before he could even make a decision whether or not to risk a question, her eyes sharpened as she took them in like a general surveying her army.
"I might as well be straight with you both, and I'm sure you want to know," she began with a definite coldness in her voice. "Your father won't be home for a good long while. Things are going to be different around here now. You're both going to have to help pitch in, we won't have money and things otherwise. Now," she held up her hand as Vance started to speak, "I do not want a lot of questions right now. I need rest. We can talk later. In the mean time, start finding a way to be useful around here. I'm going to bed."
She stood up, walked to her bedroom, and shut the door. Vance and Richard just stared at each other in shock for a few seconds, processing the way she had spoken as much as what she had said. Their mother was never going to be known for being coddling, but she could be affectionate and caring, and she had always been there for them. This mother was someone different - cold, detached, and unfeeling. Vance started to cry, a mixture of confusion and sadness overwhelming the young boy. Richard wasn't doing much better, but managed to hold it together enough to hug his brother and take him out front.
As soon as they were out the front door, Vance's crying became a full-fledged wail. Richard tried to calm him down by consoling him at first, but he quickly determined that the only way to really make him quiet down was to distract him by getting him to think about what they needed to do next. The fact was that their mother hadn't given them much information at all, and they had no clue what had really happened. The only that they did know was that she was concerned that they wouldn't have any money.
It may have been only a passing comment born from stress, or maybe it was something more, but Vance and Richard clung to it like a life preserver. If nothing else it gave them a clear sense of purpose. Both boys had a few coppers around, nothing much, just the sort of loose change that children seem to find in the everyday environment and horde up. While it wasn't unheard of for children Richard's age to find some sort of work, it certainly didn't happen easily, and there was no way Vance could earn a fair wage. If they were going to get money, they would need to get creative.