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Problem Generation
Chapter 2 - The Crook (2/2)

Chapter 2 - The Crook (2/2)

Earlier that day, the school’s bell buzzed and Cassedy’s attention is brought back to the classroom and is relieved to know that school is now over and that he’ll be able to pay a visit to his father in the hospital. He remembered everything that had happened in that alley downtown–it should’ve been a memorable trip to the movies for him, trying to keep his head up from the desk he was sitting at, he decided not to think too much about it and instead on side activities.

What should I do now, I can’t do any more daytime robberies for a while. Maybe a night break-in?

Leaving the classroom, he’s met with the late afternoon sun casting long shadows across the courtyard. The warmth did little to ease the chill that had settled in his bones since that night—a night that had changed everything.

Today he was going to pay his father a visit at the hospital, something he’s been anxious waiting for a few weeks to do. He hadn’t seen his father since the day he was transported to the hospital watching him go by on a stretcher.

If there were anything to be glad about, it would’ve been how wrong he was that night. Thankfully his father had managed to survive, though he had to spend a few weeks in the hospital due to the injuries he sustained, saving his family from worrying about funeral preparations, instead only needing to burden themselves with medical expenses.

Strolling down the familiar streets of Malgrad towards the hospital, Cassedy’s thoughts drifted, unbidden, to the incident that landed his father in a hospital bed. The dimly lit alley, the masked men, the flash of a knife—it all played on a loop in his mind, each replay as vivid and haunting as the last.

He shook his head, trying to dispel the memories as he tried to focus on his other objective.

I need a new plan. Daytime snatches are too risky now. Maybe a night job? But where?

Crossing the busy intersection, he noticed a small electronics store on the corner, its display case boasting the latest gadgets. Cassedy’s eyes lingered for a moment, ideas forming before he forced himself to look away, promising himself no more reckless moves, at least not until things had cooled down.

Arriving at the hospital, he’s greeted by the receptionist, “Hi, Ms.Clarke’s son?”, she welcomed him, her face filled with unsureness.

“Cassedy,” he replied, “It’s Cassedy.” He had known her for years through his mother, yet it seemed she hadn’t caught his name completely. Brushing that aside she permits him to go to his father’s ward.

. The sterile smell and hushed atmosphere greeted him as he made his way to his father's room. Pushing open the door quietly, he found Mr. Clarke propped up against a stack of pillows, eyes closed, and the steady beep of monitors, the only sound in the room.

“Hey…, Dad,” Cassedy said softly.

Mr. Clarke's eyes fluttered open, and a tired smile began to form on his lips. “Hey, Caz. Good to see you.”

Cassedy pulled a chair beside the bed and sat down, trying to mask the worry etched on his face. They talked for a while about typical father and son stuff—school, the latest football match, how Kaitlyn was managing at home. But beneath the surface, tension simmered.

After a pause, Mr. Clarke’s expression grew serious. “Caz, there's something we need to discuss.”

Cassedy felt his stomach tighten. He had been expecting this conversation but wasn’t sure he was ready for it. “Is it about what happened?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

His father nodded, eyes clouded with regret. “I never wanted you involved in any of this. It was my mistake, and you paid the price.”

Cassedy clenched his fists, memories flooding back despite his efforts to suppress them. The fear, the helplessness, watching his father collapse to the ground as the assailants fled into the darkness– a feeling of powerless he never wishes to experience again.

“Who were those men, and why did they attack you?” he asked, needing answers to questions that had plagued him for weeks. Although they had confronted him later and had already got an idea of who they were, he desired to hear his father’s side of the story.

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Mr. Clarke sighed, pain evident in his eyes. “Old debts. Back when your mother and I first moved here, times were tough. I made some poor choices, worked for the wrong people. Simple as that.” He says then shows him a light smirk trying to play off some of the severity of the situation

Cassedy processed the information, anger and confusion swirling inside him. “Why didn't you tell us? Maybe we could have helped somehow.”

“I wanted to bury that thought,” his father replied, “I thought if I kept it hidden, It would have dealt with itself. I was wrong.”

Silence settled between them, heavy and suffocating. Cassedy struggled with a mix of emotions—betrayal, fear, but also a fierce determination.

“What happens now?” he finally asked.

Mr. Clarke hesitated before speaking. “There’s something at home, in the back of my dresser drawer—a small black box. I need you to find it and get rid of it. Don't open it, and don't tell your mother or Kaitlyn. Can you do that for me?”

Cassedy nodded slowly, questions bubbling up but knowing better than to press further. “I’ll take care of it.”

A weak smile formed on his father’s lips. “I knew I could count on you.” he said and just before he thought that it was the end of it Mr. Clarke said to him in a lowered tone, “ I don’t need you to steal for my sake.”

Panicking he didn’t expect his father who had been in the hospital all this time to have known his antics and thinks to himself.

No way, this is definitely Kaithlyn’s doing, how did he find out?

“You're lucky I never told your mother!”, he said scornfully, to which Cassedy could only hang his head to that.

I hate that damn girl

They talked a little while longer, his father scolding him for needing to turn into a thief for his sake trying not to lose his temper. Before a nurse came in to remind them that visiting hours were over. Cassedy stood, squeezing his father’s hand reassuringly before making his way out of the hospital.

The evening air was cool, a gentle breeze rustling through the trees as he walked home. The streets were starting to empty, curfew hours would soon begin, the day's bustle giving way to nighttime calm. But Cassedy's mind was anything but calm, as he now thought to himself in his room.

What could be in that box? Why all the secrecy?

Currently in his room, it felt as if his father had shattered his trust, by not being straight with him, his thoughts on opening the box began to itch, unable to drown them out with his passion for video games. As he began to drive his virtual car, he was pillaged by the thoughts along the straights, eventually crashing and wrathfully quitting the game.

Being left frustrated he felt as if the only way he would get his closure would be by opening the box. Stepping out of the room, mumbling his frustration over the lost game, before he was able to step into the room, the creaking of the front door downstairs was audible, he'd already figured out who it was by now at this time of the evening.

Ah…, my mother

Knowing that if she found him in her room, would trigger her evening fury. Since his father had been in the hospital she hadn’t taken it easy mentally nor physically, in addition to having two adolescents to care for.

Both Cassedy and Kaithlyn were unable to blame her for being upset, they were only bitter about her taking some of the fury out on them to do chores.

Later that evening, their mother called them to eat together for dinner. This was strange to both Cassedy and Kaithlyn, everyone usually sat all about the house, beside the bedroom which his mother despised when she found out. Instead of us all being greeted by the dragon’s breath, she was the calmest I’ve ever seen in a while, as we all sat and ate together, she lifted her head and sat back in her seat, making a quick announcement to us, “I’m going to a church this weekend.”

Oh boy, it was surprising—though neither of them showed it—that she didn’t respond with her usual growl about how he sometimes held his utensils. Nonetheless, they were happy she was trying to work on herself, the psychological trauma for her could’ve gone on for a while longer if her faith was enough to aid her, then so be it.

The one thing Cassedy was worried about was being invited there, knowing he should at the very least have the decency not to show his face, he imagined the thought of sitting by the same lady he had just robbed a few weeks ago sitting next to you. They used to go to church some years ago but eventually stopped after a while, that was when our father got a new job and made good money from it.

“Any of you want to go with me?” his mother said, shortly followed by his sister’s reply, “Alright then.” That also never surprised him though, his mother had her moments but his sister would suck up to her more often, causing her to be a little gentler towards her sometimes, only being pointed out recently when his father had told him about that beginning to notice as well.

“Cassedy, what about you?”, no way, that sounds ridiculous to him. “Sorry, just can’t bother, maybe some other time”, he said, his sister looking over toward him, a mischievous grin began to form on her face. “Should I tell her?” As a concerned expression began to swell up on his face, he knew he had to try and play it off or else he’d raise his mother’s suspicions, “About what? That I didn’t put the clothes in my room away.”

“Well, when you’re finished go to your room and take them up.”

“Well, thanks for the meal, but I’ll be heading to my room”, he rose and pushed his seat under the table, both his mother and sister sharing glances, noticing the unfinished meal.