Chip Off the Old Block

Marla knelt before him and looked up. Mascara rills meandered away from her red puffed eyes. "He's crazy I tell you. Your dad is crazy!"

Steven put his hands on the backs of her white-knuckled hands, which were gripping his knees as he sat on the edge of the chair by her makeup stand. He blinked back his own tears.

"I can't marry him--he's psychotic," she continued. "But you are so sweet, unspoiled. Stay with me."

"He's my dad Marla," Steven said in labored, broken pieces. "And he needs me."

"It's too late for him, but you... I'll be the kind of parent you deserve, send you to good schools--"

From the front door erupted a thunderous crash, as if the door would splinter. Then came a furious yell from without, "Where is my son!"

"Oh Jesus," Marla cried, "wait here." She ran to the front door and screamed, "Go away Jack, or I'll call the police."

"Not without my son! Steven, open this door."

Steven rounded the corner and faced Marla, with a bag hoisted on his shoulder. "I have to go. I'm sorry."

Marla sagged and tenderly wiped a tear from his eye with her thumb. "If you ever need me..."

Steven hugged her then opened the door, then hopped into the truck with his father.

His father said, "Did you get them?"

Steven unzipped the bag that rested between them. Inside were two ceramic lamps. "How much can we get for them?"