Free The Sorrow King by Andersen Prunty

desire for her was entirely sexual. He thought it had more to do with thinking they were somehow connected. After all, he hadn’t even noticed her until that fateful night of walking.
    In so many ways, that had become a night of firsts. That was the beginning to whatever mystery he currently found himself ensnared by. The notebook. The names . . . the names of the dead and the names of the clouds. Elise, so perfect and lovely there in the night. The nightmares. The water tower. Obscura (whatever that was). The clouds moving around the tower. That heart- and time-stopping hum. And now Elise’s address. And like a shadow over it all, the suicides. Even now, pulling away from Elise’s house and feeling alive with that sense of mystery, a funeral was underway at a small church out in the country.
    His world had become a very strange place.
    Overhead, the clouds were low and leaden, pressing down on him as he drove the few minutes to his house. He thought about that, marveling over it. A few minutes. He lived only a few minutes away from her. Why couldn’t he ever remember seeing her? That unnerved him.
    He went inside and went straight to bed, hoping to get a couple hours of sleep before his dad came home. His dad had told him he wanted to spend an evening with him, maybe watch a movie or something and Steven thought that sounded like fun. Even though he was around him every day, he never really felt like he was just hanging out with the man. They were each too busy being depressed.
     
     
    By the time Connor came home with spicy burritos and chips and guacamole from a Mexican place in Alton, Steven was holed up on the couch reading Charles Bukowski’s Post Office .
    “ Hey,” Steven said.
    “ Hey,” Connor said, brandishing the bag of food. “Hungry?”
    “ You bet.”
    Connor had planned this whole evening out in his head. He wanted the boy to crack. It wasn’t anything sadistic. He just wanted to get inside Steven’s head, if only for a few minutes. Maybe it was a bit passive-aggressive but it was something he thought both he and the boy needed.
    He put the food down on the floor. “You want a beer?” he asked. He figured Steven was seventeen and, if he had had any friends, would probably be drinking just about every weekend anyway. Plus, Connor didn’t think anything would make him open up better than a little alcohol in the system.
    Steven looked somewhat incredulous. “Are you kidding?”
    “ Don’t tell me you don’t sneak them anyway.”
    “ Maybe once or twice. I figured you’d notice if I took any more than that.”
    “ Oh, I would have. And I don’t intend to make this a habit. I just figured that . . . well, hell, we’ve both been going through some really difficult shit lately. Tonight, let’s just get a little toasty and be done with it. Put some things behind us.”
    Steven nodded his head. “Yeah. That sounds good. So what movie did you get?”
    “ Night of the Living Dead .”
    Steven groaned. “That horrible eighties thing? I’ve seen parts of that. It wasn’t very good.”
    “ No. That was Return of the Living Dead . This is the original. Black and white. Classic.”
    “ Oh.”
    “ You’ll like it.”
    Connor went into the kitchen and brought a couple of Rolling Rocks out. He flipped on the TV and they idly watched the news while they ate. Connor couldn’t stand to eat and watch movies at the same time. It obliterated the sound and, when he watched a movie, he liked there to be as few distractions as possible. Besides, it seemed appropriate for it to be completely dark outside before putting the movie on. And maybe there was just the tiniest part of him that wanted to stretch this out as long as possible. He really didn’t want to have what had built itself up in his mind as “The Conversation.” He was just a little bit afraid to have that conversation. He knew Steven. Rather, he knew Steven’s habits but realized he didn’t have a clue about his inner workings.