Page 25 of Night Blind

Slow gave him a playful punch in the arm as they heard a set of heavy footfalls entering the space. Mark Neary was awake. He went first to the bathroom, returning to pour himself a cup of coffee and join his sons. Mug in hand, he sat across from them in the recliner taking his first morning sip. “Morning, my sons,” he said.

“Dad,” Slow replied.

“Pops,” Mustang said.

Mark leaned back in the seat, his eyes on both of the men. There were issues on his heart and weighing heavily in his mind. Now was the time to discuss it.

“Listen, we are outnumbered and about to be overrun,” he told his sons. “We need more Neary men, particularly from the two of you.”

Slow said nothing as Mustang looked around, trying to figure out who Mark was talking to because he didn’t think it was him. Sons meant a home and a steady woman in his life who wanted to talk about her feelings and the bloating in her belly from drinking cow milk. He had tried it once, and he didn’t like dirty panties on the floor of the bathroom, so living with a woman wasn’t on his planner for the next decade.

“I’m talking to both of you,” Mark said, reaching over to thump Mustang on the ear. “My brother Joe has his first grandson from Bleu. Zeke’s wife is expecting a boy, and I think Gabriel’s wife is having one as well. That’s three Nearys for Joe, and no Neary boys to carry on my line.”

“Dad, I’m working on it,” Slow said, smiling again. Mustang looked at him and shuddered once more.

“See that’s why I’m not trying to make no babies and sit around smiling like this joker. Dude, you’re grinning like a gas ball was freed from your colon,” he said. “Pops, I’m not trying to get tied down and have any babies any time soon. I don’t even think I want kids.”

On cue, small feet were heard coming down the hall. Naomi was awake. She didn’t bother to stop at the bathroom but made a beeline for her father. The soft black curls sat askew on her head and the ears protruded, giving her the appearance of a cute little Munchkin.

“Morning, Daddy. Morning, Grandpa Man,” she said, looking at Mustang. “Daddy, who is that? Iseenthim last night, but Auntie made us go to bed before I could askhimname.”

“This is my brother, Jairus. We call him Jay, so you can call him Uncle Jay,” he told his daughter.

Her little face registered confusion as she gawked at Mustang. “Your brother? Him is black, but you are pink.”

“I am white, and yes he is a black man, but his name is Jairus Paul Neary, and he is my brother, which makes him your uncle,” he explained. “We call him Jay. He is your Uncle Jay.”

Her little eyes wandered to Mark, “Grandpa Man, did you make a black baby with another lady that wasn’t Grandma?”

Mustang burst into laughter. “I like her,” he said. “She’s sharp.”

Mark didn’t think it was funny. “No, I did not, Miss Smarty Pants, and stop calling me Grandpa Man. I am Grandpa,” he said.

Naomi wouldn’t let it go so easily. Her little eyes were homed in on the man who said he was her daddy’s brother. The man had kind eyes, but that didn’t change what she was thinking. She felt they all needed to hear her tiny opinion.

“Well, where did you get him? Uncle Jay did Grandma make you with a black boyfriend that Grandpa Man didn’t know about?” she asked to their shocked faces. “Auntie had a black boyfriend that my Mama didn’t know about, and when my Mommy went to work, sometimes Auntie’s black boyfriend would come over to the house, and they would be on the couch kissing and making funny noises. I didn’t want to see any of that, so I would close my door.”

“Good grief child,” Slow said, “let’s make you some breakfast. If food is in your little mouth, you can’t traumatize people.”

Mustang watched them walk away, Slow carrying his daughter to the kitchen over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. He was still smiling as the child sat at the dining room table. Her small eyes drifted back to Mustang. He waved at her, hoping to break the way she stared at him mutherfuckingly, looking more and more like her father. She sat in silence as if she were dissecting him on a molecular level, which somewhat unnervedhim. He turned his head to look at Mark, who was also looking at the child who was still quietly staring at Mustang.

“You love her a lot, don’t you?”

“Yeah, but the first time I tried to kiss her cute little cheeks, she punched me in the mouth,” Mark said. He and Mustang burst into laughter. “She is not one to mess with, that one. We played paintball, and you know, she got me. She shot me by playing possum and I fell for it. I was wounded. Still am. Slippery When Wet is all dried out.”

Mustang shook his head, ignoring the handle his adopted father had given himself that didn’t exist, commenting, “Michael seems different. This home feels different,”

“Jay, having someone to come home to each day makes a man different,” Mark told him. “The lone stallion looks good in the field, but he is happier with a herd. It’s time to find you a filly and create your own family.”

“I hear you, Pops, but I know I’m not ready,” he explained. “When the time comes, I shall take it as it arises.”

“Good enough. Let’s get the day moving,” he said softly before rising from the chair.

Incrementally, the family appeared as food came from the kitchen onto the table. Helen arrived along with Zeke, Tameka, and Azreal, after having had breakfast at her home. After breakfast, the family would depart.

The Doc with his wife and son were the first to leave after checking on Cherry. Her foot, broken in two places rested immobile in a cast for the next six to eight weeks. This also meant she would be unable to work for nearly two months, which made Azreal a bit of a bear this morning. She too was departing for home, after finding out what she needed to know. Their work life had morphed into a waiting game.

Mark and Ruth left with Rebecca. Zeke, Michelle, and Tameka departed as well, leaving Mustang, Cherry, Helen, andSlow seated in the living room. Cherry’s eyes were on Mustang, after also observing the way Ruth and Mark acted with him as well as Rebecca. He was more than a Technician. She waited for her husband, who spoke nothing of the connection to the man.

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