Page 27 of South of Nowhere

Crazy. A scene from a Road Runner cartoon.

Is this what depleting oxygen did to you?

Apparently so.

“Good job,” he said to Kim.

She didn’t glare. It was worse. She didn’t even acknowledge him.

He noted that Sonja was manically rubbing her fingers together.

“Just…” Her eyes were wide. She whispered, “I don’t know. Feel weird.”

He assessed and realized that he did too, in addition to the sense of tripping.

Another symptom apparently, anxiety—being fidgety in the extreme.

Honk.

It was then that another smell joined that of the polish.

No…He closed his eyes in despair.

He found Sonja looking at him.

The scent was of gasoline.

He quickly killed the light. They would just have to risk the panic that might ensue.

“Dad!” Travis called, his voice cracking.

“What are you doing?” Kim raged. It was clear that his words of reconciliation had had no effect.

“The gasoline. We can’t afford a spark.”

“Lights don’t fucking spark,” the girl shot back.

No language corrections now.

“We’re not taking any chances.”

There’d be no more honking either.

“There’s nothing more we can do. Breathe—”

“Shallow, yeah, yeah, yeah,” their daughter said.

“Kim!” Sonja said sharply.

Odd not seeing anyone’s faces during an emotional exchange.

Sonja said, “Should we tell a story?”

No,” George said. He felt an urge to gag, but controlled it.

More symptoms of the lack of oxygen, he guessed.

“Just sit back, relax.”

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