Captain Kangaroo was conversing back and forth with both Mr. Green Jeans and Mr. Moose on the television while Isaac spoke in a low, overcast tone to his father over the phone.

Dressed in the same clothes from the night before, Isaac watched Isaiah crawl and romp about on the floor with his Fisher Price toy phone while he sipped away on his fourth cup of coffee for the morning. Isaac's mind was from the TV and drifting even further away from his son.

Every so often he would stare down at his scarred fingernails that felt as if someone had pierced each of them with sharp needles.

"Isaac, are you still there?" Mr. Mercer worriedly asked.

Shaking himself awake, Isaac replied, "I'm fine, dad. I just got a bad headache. Did the fuzz bring your car back yesterday?"

"Yeah, they brought it back last night. I think the carburetor needs replaced."

Just then, a long pause prevailed. The pause was soon followed by a moan from Isaac's father.

"Son...is everything alright with you? You sure don't sound fine."

Just judging by his father's stretched out gap in speech Isaac could sense that he was stressed over his grueling ordeal. All the young man could do was sit and shut his eyes in angst.

"Yeah, dad, I just need some time to...to work things out."

"Where's Lynn at?"

"She went out to get some more medicine for Isaiah. She said she'll be back before nine."

"Isaac, just relax and let the good Lord take care of everything. You've got a friend in him."

Out of helpless frustration, Isaac threw himself backwards into the couch where he was

something to tell you later on." He flinched, trying with all

"I get off from work at five, come down to the church and

said, sitting back and wiping the wetness away from

gotta go to work

dad," Isaac sniffed before hanging up the

father's tenor that he hadn't heard before; it startled Isaac enough to where he even

"Dah," the child squealed out as he handed his father his toy phone

A forced smile came across Isaac's battered face before

parade were trolling right through the living room. The boy was happy to see someone enjoying his toys

Back and forth father and son played until the newsbreak on the television re-ran reports of the murder of the kidnapper, the dead bodies in his basement

just what kind of animal could have

firmly on the TV as the screen scrolled through every little Sanders girl. Their angelic faces were alive with euphoric vitality as their smiling parents held

of Isaac's bottom lip the longer he concentrated on the screen. He was completely void of any emotion at that instant, as though

handing his

as Leroy Cummins' sharply dressed photo appeared on the television. He remembered the generous man offering him

as he lifted his aching body from off the couch, "your mom wants

to limp his way into the warm bathroom Isaac promptly removed every item of clothing from off the child's body, cut on the

to bath Isaiah. The child actually enjoyed being wet; just splashing about in the water was all

grimy tile while listening to the little girl's scream in his head in a high pitched tone. Much like the proverbial 'fingernails across the chalkboard', Isaac couldn't help but to drown in the hellacious notion that everything that happened two nights earlier was nowhere to be found in

He recalled screaming of all sorts, from that of adults to children, and yet, had it not been for the TV, not one person's

sprinkles of soapy water splashed into Isaac's dead face, alerting him to

it'll turn into a habit." Isaac

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