Norman looks back to Jack and Daisy, a quiet despondency laying in his eyes.
"How long have you been alone?"
Patrick shrugs his shoulders.
"Where are your parents?"
"Dead." Patrick replies, the word barely crawling from him.
Heartache grips Norman. His eyes well, his brow furrows.
"I'm sorry." he says, the words full of compassion.
Patrick's gaze moves down to the sheet, his unease visible.
"I'm sure this is difficult to talk about, but can you tell me what happened to them?"
Patrick fidgets, his mouth bunches and moves to the side.
"My dad..."
Patrick pauses. He inhales heavily and trembles.
"It's alright, take your time."
Another long moment passes.
"He...became a monster...hurt my mom...I-I stopped him."
Tears well up around Norman's glossy eyes. His mind races, wondering what that must have been like. The horror of having to see that, of having to do that. He breathes in sharply, attempting to keep his composure.
"I know you're afraid. Sometimes you don't feel like life is worth it, sometimes all you can think about is what you've been through and it hurts, but we're going to help you. Okay? I want to help you. I would like you to stay with us, if you want to. For now, you need to rest, alright?"
Patrick nods, then rotates away from Norman, and lays on his side. Norman, Jack, and Daisy leave the room, allowing Patrick to restore a sense of calm. Jack turns to Daisy.
"Will you stay here for a little longer and monitor him?" Jack asks.
She nods her head, "Of course."
Jack takes Norman by the hand and leads him to the bedroom down the hall. Norman's face droops, his attention fixed on the floor.
"Come here." Jack says, reaching out to his husband.
Norman accepts Jack's embrace, burying his face into his shoulder. Norman's composure shatters. He wraps his arms around Jack, and he weeps.
"He's just a boy." he says through his sobs.
"I know hunny. It's not fair." Jack replies, choking up himself.
Norman clutches Jack's shirt, gripping it furiously. Droplets of grief raining from him, sorrow and anger swirling about within in.
"He's just a boy. He's just a boy."
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
He watches from inside the barn as Rosaline and Sweetie pass by the fruit garden and continue on to the edge of the perimeter. He waits until they’ve disappeared beyond the tree line before he exits the barn.
He’s wrestled with himself on how to relay the information he has. He’s not without a heart, he empathizes with the situation Rosaline and Mikey have lived with. More so for the child than for her.
Rad has always been the skeptical type. He gets it from his grandfather. Growing up as a black man in Alabama he questioned everything. He told Rad it wasn’t a choice, he had to.
Rad’s mother passed away when he was young. They aren’t sure exactly what was wrong with her. She became ill and never recovered, but she wasn’t infected with the disease. She and Rad’s father both had previous partners, who had long passed before they became involved.
Rad’s father already had a son when he met his mother. After she passed away, his father, grandfather, and older brother raised him. Despite the often uncivil nature of the tales his grandfather would relay to him, there were never any issues between his father and grandfather.
This was surprising to Rad later on in life. His father was white, his older brother was white, and his grandfather’s stories of racial discrimination were volatile enough to lead one to believe his grandfather was suspicious and untrusting of every white person.
The truth couldn’t have been further from that. His grandfather was a skeptic, but he was also a loving man. He urged caution, but he never allowed his life before the outbreak to dishearten him. He saw how much Rad’s parents loved each other, he saw how happy Rad’s brother was to finally have a sibling, and these familial connections elated his grandfather.
The four of them were very close. Rad, nor his brother, knew anything of racism or prejudice. To immediately hate someone based solely upon an innate trait of their appearance? The idea seemed so arbitrary to them.
In the times Rad has been born into the appearance of an individual has never been more important. Anyone can be infected. The disease cares not about the qualities of a host. These days you must be familiar with the tell tale signs of the affliction, and your life depends on your ability to recognize them.
It is this upbringing that has left Rad so conflicted with his initial feelings about Rosaline. Since the first night Rosaline appeared to them Rad has had a bad feeling about her. She didn’t exhibit any sigs of the virus, and still Rad felt the need to be suspicious of her.
He wasn’t sure if he was judging her based upon her appearance, if some unrealized bias lay deep seeded within him. He questioned himself about her. Was it the way she spoke? The manner in which she carried herself? That different look she held within her eyes, or something else he hasn’t been able to unearth within himself?
Rad fought inside his own head. He battled against an urge to be afraid that he did not understand. That is, until the previous day when he spoke with Mikey. The way the child nonchalantly mentioned that Rosaline had killed people that potentially were not a threat twisted the blood inside his veins. That she has instilled in the little boy the notion of being the first to kill, before giving the other party a chance to prove their trust worthiness, brought about a sick feeling in his gut.
“Has this been her plan all along?” he thinks. He believes he’s not left with a choice. He has to bring this to The Family’s attention. He will not allow the life they’ve made for themselves to be destroyed.
He wanted to stop Sweetie from leaving with Rosaline, but he didn’t want to arouse concern. Rosaline clearly cares about Mikey, and he doesn’t think she’ll harm Sweetie if Mikey is at
