EMO SEED

“I was just a baby but I think it was like this. It’s weird to see a murder in a graveyard. And I already knew Dad was mean, but it was really bad to watch him start beating a man ’til he died. And he seemed to love it! That’s why when I saw you going into the dark and then running, I followed.”

“You’ve been a right brat all these years, you know that,” Jens... replied? It was half-relevant to Joe’s words, but it was more an improvisation on the overall atmosphere of parting that marked even this last moment of relaxation before final preparations.

“I’m just a normal boy! That’s mean! You’re mean!”

Joe preferred talking — and backtalking his guardian — to staring at the lackluster letters on the rack in front of him: EEEDOMS. At the tender age of 9 he had already developed quite a talent for Scrabble, but he just didn’t see any answers here. Jens was in the lead and so to protect his lead he had closed up the board right good.

“I am mean, it’s true. Meaner than you know. Mean in so many ways.” Jens suddenly looked so strangely sad, like he had some many times before since that fateful night. “And not just because I’m going to give you back to your father. Oh, and you know I don’t like this solution any better than you do.”

“Oh, I know all about best solutions for bad problems, Vatti!” Joe crooned, with all the self-assurance of a coddled, precocious 9-year-old. Seconds later, visibly having just seen the words, he shouted “Look at this!” Weaving among Jens’ words, he laid down REMODELERS on the board, for well near a hundred points.

“Wolfgang would have been proud of you,” smiled Jens, patting Joe on the head. “Answers... answers.”

An adult watching would have seen something seemed to click in Jens’ head, some cards in a virtual bad hand seem to slip into place. Joe did not, for he was not quite as smart as he thought he was — a trait that he would never shake in his future years.

“May I resign?” Jens then continued. “We have lots of packing to do, and many tracks to cover — thankfully I have experience with that — and many lines for you rehearse. I’m sorry I’ll be teaching you to lie to your father. But... if you knew what I know about evil...” he trailed off.

“It’s OK! He’s mean!”

“Yes. He’s mean... Come, really, come. This might be called child slavery, but with what all’s in store for us... I can’t do it alone. And you’re bright enough to help.” Jens smiled sadly again.

“OK Vatti!”