That evening, Isaac stood at his father's bedroom door with a fist pick lodged in his thick hair, silently watching as the well-disciplined man studied his bible, as he did every evening prior to falling asleep.

Forever it amazed Isaac at how deep and methodical his dad would sink himself into his lessons, even to the point where the man would become totally oblivious to another person standing near him.

Isaac examined his father up and down as though he were an age old masterpiece that was clothed in a pair of striped pajama bottoms and a white Fruit of the Loom undershirt. His drooping cheeks and sullen eyes gave the impression that whatever he was reading upon in his great book was something very serious, yet somber.

Mr. Mercer then sighed and took off his reading glasses before slowly closing his book and staring off straight ahead at the bare, white wall for ten seconds. Once the ten seconds had passed, the man gradually looked up at Isaac and slightly grinned as if he were awakening from a stupor.

"Hey." Mr. Mercer yawned as he placed his bible on the bed next to him. "I didn't see you there."

Humbly grinning with his hands in his pockets, Isaac said, "You never do, dad. I just stopped by to see how you were doin.'"

"Aww, shoot, I'm just getting ready to fall asleep." Mr. Mercer gleefully smiled while stretching his chunky arms outwards. "It's been a long day. A long, good day, son."

"You know, I was just thinkin' to myself, perhaps I'll go and find a job."

"You goin' back to the garage?"

"Uh...no, sir," Isaac began to squirm. "I was thinkin' about maybe another line of work. Maybe...cleaning."

Almost immediately, Mr. Mercer's eyes grew two sizes larger with joy at his son's remark. "Cleaning, huh? And what brought this on? I thought you liked working down at the garage with Larry and Marvell. You three have been buddies for years."

"Yeah, I know, but...I wanna do something on my own for a change."

"Well, I can put in a good word for you with Mr. Wallace. Maybe he can put you with me at the federal building downtown. We can go in together every afternoon. That is if you don't mind getting off at eight every evening."

"That's cool. I figure it's time for me to start something new. Like you said this morning, 'start a brand new slate.'

Mr. Mercer smiled favorably at his boy and asked, "So, what was it like to see Isaiah after all this time?"

"Okay, I guess." Isaac huffed."Just okay," Mr. Mercer questioned in awe. "I figured you'd be over there all night."

"Yeah, me too, but he acts like he doesn't even know me." Isaac griped. "Lynn says that I just need to give him time to readjust to me all over again. Man, if only she had brought him along when she came to visit, then he wouldn't be actin' like this."

"Sometimes we act in the best interest of those we love." Mr. Mercer patiently explained. "Lynnette did what she thought was right for your son. You can't be mad at her for that. Proverbs 14:29 says that whoever is patient has great understanding, but one who is quick-tempered displays folly."

Isaac swallowed heavily at his father's words and asked, "So does that mean I'm supposed to forgive Lynn, even when she keeps my boy away from me?"

put it behind you and be thankful

his head and then said, "I was planning on taking us

"Oh yeah,"

"Yes, sir, just a little something to get

and pulled

Isaac took the money and gazed seriously at the numeral 20 as if

"For real,"

"Why not? You can pay me back when you get your first

Isaac stuffed the bill into his pants pocket and watched as his father began to tuck himself

tell the man on the way home from Ashlandview, but

voice to crack in mid-sentence,

I realize that what took place back in November with your friends getting killed really tore you apart, but they're in the good Lord's hands now. You're here, and you have to move on, not just for your sake, but also for Lynnette and Isaiah. You've always been a good boy, now go and be a good

With that, Mr. Mercer cut off his lamp while Isaac, with tears

turned and carefully shut his father's bedroom door before venturing out into

room and turned on the television. The full moon

recalled his dad saying that it was a good day. The young man wanted more than anything to put the past behind him. It seemed as though that all the important people that he had hurt had pretty much forgiven

stepped over to the mantle where a wide mirror was mounted, along with an assortment of Kodak pictures that sat side by side above the fireplace. Isaac picked up the frame of himself, before his eyes changed their color. From the

how much and how hard he prayed. The longer he peered into the mirror

11:10

cooked on the stove that Isaac was standing over. He watched and waited as the metallic package ballooned in both size and smell over the

11:16

that his wide mouth could inhale, along with the oatmeal cream pies that were given to him

11:21

and flipped; from the eleven o' clock news, to a Bewitched rerun,

was odd considering that he had been awake since four that morning awaiting his release from the institution. For him, being away from such a protected environment like a mental hospital meant that all of the things that he wanted to do while he was interned there could at last come to fruition, but sitting there in the lonely living room, gawking at a television screen and listening to the furnace roar from out of the

embrace his dad the moment he walked through the door, but when all of his so called hopes and aspirations fell through, there remained only an empty feeling in the pit of his gut. He was bored

12:33

even the slightest stubble on his face. With every meticulous stoke of the blade Isaac made sure that not one shard of hair was left behind. Even if it meant cutting close to the grain, nothing

Deeper and more carefully he shaved, until at last, like many times in the past, he nicked himself, this

"Shit!" He screeched, making sure that his father was nowhere near to hear

Isaac reached over and ripped off a piece of toilet paper before patting the open wound that was beginning to drip

At first, Isaac ignored the blood, as he usually did in past instances; it was just his own blood. But the more he tried to soak up the substance that was all the more his nostrils began to flare.

at that moment. Just then, the bathroom light started to flicker off and on. Isaac looked up and twisted the hot bulb to make sure it was screwed in tight. He then looked down at his bloody fingers. His mind went completely

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