Chapter Text
It was a warm summer afternoon firefly’s could be heard. Chris and Kevin were giggling their asses off playing with their cars.
Chris did an impression of a car exploding,“Kaboom!!” He crashed his car into Kevin’s.
Their combination could cause the grumpiest of people to perk up. Not a care in the world for them.
“Christopher!! it’s time for supper!!” His mom called out from the back door of the house.
Chris looked down at his cars sadly knowing it was time to eat.
“Bye Kevin.. See you tomorrow” Chris smiled somberly at Kevin.
Kevin hugged Chris. The two boys were inseparable since forever.
“Bye Chris!” Kevin said.
Kevin grabbed his bike; which still had its training wheels attached.
Chris’ mom lead him inside.
“Jeez after supper i’m going to have to bathe you again.” She mumbled to herself. “I told you to not get that dirty”
She looked dissatisfied at the dirt and scratched on his knees.
“I’m sorry mama” He said while twiddling his tiny thumbs.
She wasn’t able to stay mad for long though,”It’s okay sweet pea, just don’t let it happen again”
Chris nodded then walked all perky to the dinner table knowing he got off scotch free. Chris could hear the familiar voice of Hawkeye coming from the TV. He knew his father was watching M*A*S*H again.. His mom never let him watch it. But his dad secretly let him watch it. Saying it would turn him into a ‘Real man’. To Chris his father was the epitome of a real man. He idolized him. Whenever his mom would mumble mean things about him he’d feel angry. He rarely felt angry.
“James it’s time for dinner!!” His mom yelled as she served a plate of meatloaf in front of Chris. Mr. Redfield walked to the table and sat silently. The silence obviously meant that Mrs and Mr. Redfield had fought before. Chris noticed this and his mood soured as he picked at his meatloaf as if it were a foreign object.
Mr. Redfield noticed his son’s mood and started to conversate.
He asked,“What’s this?”
“Meatloaf” Ms. Redfield stated.
“It looks like someone threw up in my plate” He had said this joke many times and it never seemed to get old for Chris.
Chris started giggling as Ms. Redfield rolled her eyes. Chris noticed the lack of laughter coming from his mother and thought she just didn’t understand humor.
“If my cooking is that bad how bout you cook? James.” She said.
Oh no.. another argument was going to transpire. Chris just wanted to run to Kevin’s house. He hated being in the crossfire of these situations.
“Well that’s your job” Chris’ dad said.
Her anger started to rise. Chris could’ve sworn he saw a vein emerge out of his mother’s forehead. “Oh I have a fucking job. Says the one who got laid off!” She yelled back.
This really hit the spot this was just hand sanitizer to Mr. Redfield’s wound.
After that Chris started to block out the obscenity being thrown at eachother. Just focusing on his food. During this he started to think about the little things. Like how many times did he chew his food before swallowing it. Or the space of time between each beep from the AC. Trying to distract himself from his family situation. He found himself blinking back tears and trying to swallow the lump in his throat. Before he knew it he heard his mother slamming the door to her bedroom and Chris’ dad watching TV while drinking beer. Chris’ dad patted a seat next to him. Chris hopped onto the seat next to him.
“Dad.?” Chris mumbled.
“Yes Christopher” He said while having his undivided attention on the colored TV; Which had spent months saving up for.
“Why do you argue with momma so much.?” Chris asked seriously.
“Well, she’s a crazy broad” He said to Chris like there was supposed to be a laughing track over that. Chris just wanted real answers. Even though he was 5 he was old enough to understand that he lived in a messed up family and it would not be fixed. Chris knew that was the only and we he’d get from his father knowing he didn’t take him seriously. He sat next to him watching M*A*S*H. He listened to his father complain about inaccuracies.
“They turned war into a drama about phonies playing footsies!!” He complained to Chris. “Like I didn’t get shot at and watch my friends die just to watch this shit..” He mumbled. Even though he always complained about the show he still continuously stayed tune for new episodes. The show was like this middle aged man’s Holy Grail. He took a sip from his beer his eyes being glued to his TV instead of acknowledging his own son. Chris sometimes wondered what was so good about beer that his father seemed to drink it every night.
“Is beer good?” Chris asked.
His father looked over to him and answered somberly, “No. But it makes you feel numb”
“Oh” Chris responded. This was the most serious his father had ever treated him. Chris’ father wrapped his arm around him and continued to watch the show. After a while Chris started to feel sleepy and rested his head on his father’s shoulder.
“Goodnight papa” He yawned and closed his eyes.
His father carried Chris to his small room.