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."

himself backwards into the couch where he was sitting and

"Dad...I got something to tell you later on." He flinched, trying with all his might not to sound like he was

at five, come down to the church and we

Isaac hesitantly said, sitting back and wiping the wetness away from his

"I gotta go to work now.

dad,"

Isaac noticed a frightened shakiness in his father's tenor that he hadn't heard before; it startled Isaac enough to

child squealed out as he handed his father his toy phone

A forced smile came across Isaac's battered face before

The mock conversations were customary; Isaiah would just sit and clap his tiny hands as though a parade were

television re-ran reports of the

usual speculations from the usual talking heads on just what kind of animal could have possibly killed all seven

TV as the screen scrolled through every little Sanders girl. Their angelic

the longer he concentrated on the screen. He was completely void of

blurted out, handing his father his

in perfect unison as Leroy Cummins' sharply dressed photo appeared on the television. He remembered the generous man

from

removed every item of clothing from off the child's body, cut on

Isaiah. The child actually enjoyed being wet; just splashing about in the water was all playtime for him. He knew that he should have been paying close attention to the

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

screaming of all sorts, from that of adults to children, and yet, had it not been for the TV, not one person's face could materialize inside the

All of the sudden, sprinkles of soapy water splashed into Isaac's dead face,

with that thing, boy, it'll turn into a habit." Isaac scolded, shoving the child's right hand away

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