"What's wrong," Max asked me as I laid in bed. Max has been around a long time. He's my best friend, though mom and dad think I made him up. Max says that they can't see him because it would make them sad.

          "Mom's been sad, lately," I told Max. "I guess Dad was gunna be coming back home, but then she got a call and now we gotta visit Dad at the hospital. Mom said Dad got hurt real bad."

          "So, are you worried?" Max asked.

           "Yeah," I said. "Mom said that Dad had a lot of bad stuff happen to him in that Afghan place. She said he's different."

            "Bad stuff can happen," Max said. "So what worries you?" 

             I looked over at the wall. Dad had taken a family picture and made it into a puzzle. We put it together and hung it on my wall.

              "Dad said that our family was like a puzzle," I finally said. "He said that we are all puzzle pieces and that we fit together. Dad's been gone and now he's hurt. What if we don't fit together any more?"

              "Well," Max said after a moment. "It's true that Dad's puzzle piece has changed. Did yours and Mom's pieces stay the same?"

               "I guess so," I said, staring at the ceiling.

               "So just see what happens," Max suggested. "As long as you love him, it'll be okay."

               "Maybe," I said. "Thanks, Max."

               The next day, Mom took me to go see dad. The hospital was really busy, but there was a kind of quiet, too. Mom took us to a room and there was Dad! 

               "Dad!" I said, running over to give him a hug.

               "Andy!" Dad replied, putting an arm around me. "You've gotten so big!"

               I hugged him as hard as I could as Mom came in and kissed him. That's when I noticed the bandages. Dad's right arm ended at his elbow, and his right leg ended at his knee. 

                "Dad, what happened to your leg and arm," I asked curiously.

                "Well, bud," He said, ruffling my hair. "Some bad guys blew up the car I was in. We won, but my hand and foot didn't work, so they made me new ones. In fact, they should be here shortly."

                 "So, will you be like Cyborg," I asked, thinking of one of my cartoons.

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                 "Something like that, bud," he replied, hugging me.

                  I got down off the bed as a nurse came in, carrying a plastic arm and leg. I watched as she showed Mom and Dad how to put them on, following along as best I could. Mom asked me to go wait with the nurse while she helped Dad get ready.

                   We were checked out and heading for the car before I was able to really see how Dad had changed. He didn't walk the same, and with Mom on his left side, he didn't hold his hand out to me. As I watched Mom help Dad into the car, I realized what really changed. Dad used to help me all the time. Now, Dad needed the help. Dad used to drive, but now Mom was going to drive. 

                    As we rode home, I realized that the puzzle hadn't broken, it just changed. Where dad used to be a bumpy part, now I could be the bumpy part. I jumped out of the car when we got home, and opened the car door for Dad and helped carry Dad's stuff into the house. I set Dad's bag down in His and Mom's room and saw a leather book fall out of Dad's bag. I picked it up and opened it up. It was filled with pictures of me, and Mom and all of us, except for one page.

                    "Ah, you found my pictures," Dad said from the doorway. "I looked at that every day when I was gone."

                     "Who is this, Dad," I asked, pointing at the page with the strange kid on it.

                      "Well," Dad said, sitting on the bed. "That's your older brother, Max. He died before you were born."

                       "Did it make you sad?" I asked.

                       "Of course it did," Dad said. "But then you came along."

                        That night, as I laid in bed, I replayed the whole day. It was going to be different with Dad home and missing an arm and leg, but it was good, too. 

                        "It really did turn out okay, Max," I said addressing my invisible friend. "Dad's back and I think it'll be okay."

                        "I thought so," Max declared. 

                         "Are you my older brother," I asked. "Dad said I had an older brother named Max that died."

                         "Yeah," Max said. "I was called away. That broke apart Mom and Dad's puzzle. Fortunately you came along to take my place in the puzzle."

                          "Huh. I wish you were still here," I said.

                          "I AM still here, ya goof," Max said laughingly. "Now get some sleep. You've got a busy day tomorrow."

                          I jerked awake, opening my eyes to a pitch-black room that told me it was the middle of the night. It was the same dream, of when I'd been five years old and Dad had come home, injured. I turned my head, glancing at the alarm clock on my nightstand to see the cheery numbers of 2:23 glowing green. I wondered idly about Max, I hadn't seen him in years, and he'd left saying just that he had things to do and that it was my turn to look after the family. I turned my head to look at a section of wall that I couldn't see right now but that still held that framed puzzle that Dad and I had made. When Mom had decided to renovate, I'd taken the puzzle and hung it in my room, and it was still there, faded and yet still relevant. 

                            I rolled over, doing my best to go back to sleep. I had a very busy summer ahead of me and I needed all the energy I could get. I wasn't in high school anymore and we needed the extra money more than ever.