Derrick didn’t know his mom had come home until she appeared out in the hall, her eyes narrowed and her arms full of shopping bags. They regarded each other in silence, each of them silently daring the other to comment on their spending. Finally, she shrugged and continued on to her bedroom. Derrick retrieved his street clothes and duffel from the living room and then changed back into them, carefully nesting his new gear so that it all fit into his bag.

When he came out, his mom was gathering up things to take to the cabin. He handed over the keys.

“Where’s the stun gun?” she asked.

“I left it at the cabin.” He swallowed. “You’re not going to hurt him, are you?”

She busied herself with her bags. “We’ve gotten a lot of requests for the Haldon Cam.”

“Mom—that’s not what’s important. We did this so Bob would write. Not so he could be humiliated online.”

“The money’s good. Aren’t you the one taking economics? I’m sure we make more per minute with Bob on cam than we do on him writing.”

It felt like the more his mom had, the more she wanted. Although was Derrick much better? If they had had a different kind of relationship, he might have asked her if all this new stuff left her feeling as empty as he did.

“If your only focus is the money, then why aren’t you cleaning out his checking account?”

“Because that would be way more out in the open and the bank might notice. People might start asking questions.”

Her words set off an uncomfortable echo. Eventually Bob would finish the book, and they would let him go. People might start asking questions then.

And would Bob be willing to go along?

BOB

A Thousand and One Nights

The door to Bob’s room opened. He didn’t turn, but he could feel Joanne’s glare, hot on the back of his neck, as he kept walking to nowhere. After hundreds of miles on the treadmill, his feet had toughened as his body slimmed down. This weekend, Derrick was off LARPing, leaving Bob to the not-so-tender mercies of his mother.

In no hurry to interact with her, Bob kept typing. Or writing. Or whatever it was he was doing with the book he was parceling out to Derrick.

Bob was nearly done with both books. This one for Derrick and the other, hidden underneath his feet, that he was writing for himself.