Bad Seed 3

It had been almost ten years since Mr. and Mrs. Charles Wilson, of the normal house on the normal block of the normal suburban neighborhood, had celebrated the adoption of their youngest son. The neighbors had been surprised to learn that Penny and Charles had been in the adoption process, but a hearty laugh and a plausibly anxious explanation about 'not wanting to raise anyone's hopes' in case it 'fell through' covered a multitude of prying questions. Mrs. Wilson had once known that the majority of people will accept a highly plausible lie over a complicated truth, and for that small pocket of hell, she recalled the hidden knowledge.

After the initial upset, things returned largely to normal for a good period of time. The house was cool and clean and filled with neat, even furnishings which had always been simple and traditional enough not to need updating. The only things to show change in the front of the house were the photographs, which had first shown the happy, tired couple holding a husky, blonde toddler alongside a slight, black-haired infant, progressed through the years of first bicycles, carnivals, and parent nights. Everywhere, both boys were represented, although an amount of strain increased in the posture of the father, a shadow of suspicion on the part of the mother, over the years. The dark haired waif had grown while his fair brother fell behind him in size and confidence. Over the years, one might detect a distance between the brothers, which one would have to actively work to attribute to normal sibling rivalries.

The root of the familial discord happened to also be in that front room, sleeping on the floor behind a comfortably stuffed couch. He did not stir when his mother's voice called through the house.

"Odie!" Her voice had a shrill of anxiety, a frayed edge that it hadn't had ten years ago, but it was 9 parts tired resignation. "Odie, I know you were in bed last night, where are you?!"

Odysseus Wilson's chest hitched in silent laughter as he heard his mother's nervous movements. She never remembered to check behind the couch, and it was his favorite spot to hide and sleep or while away his sunny afternoons. He had a number of similar hiding spots chosen around the house, and indeed the entire neighborhood, so his parents would always be kept guessing when he slipped out of his bed and into the twilight. It wouldn't do to let them get too comfortable.

When Odie heard his mother's footsteps retreat into the kitchen, followed by the knocking of a frying pan on the gas-light burner, he allowed himself to stretch languidly and consider getting up. She was finally starting to understand that he was going to do as he pleased, whether she looked for him or not.

The sharp odor of coffee wasn't far behind the sizzle of butter on the skillet, and that meant that the others would be awake soon. j

"Is he up?" the deep, sleepy voice of Odies' father carried from the base of the stairs.

"He's not in bed," answered his mother.

"I can see that, dear, but is he about?"

Odie heard his mother sigh. "If he's in the house, I wasn't able to find him, but if I put off breakfast any longer we were going to be late."

A chair screeched over linoleum. "If he's knocking around outside somewhere..." his father's words drifted off.

"I don't like him out there, associating with, I'm sure I wouldn't know who. It's dangerous."

"I know, dear, just... Maybe today..." he was faltering. "I want everything perfect for Davey's special day."

Odie rose silently. He had completely forgotten little David's birthday, and he certainly wouldn't want to miss that. Still, his mother's voice was drifting in from the kitchen, with the warm breakfast smells, as Odie pulled together the socks he had kicked off the night before.

"I know he's a bit of a handful, but we just need to be careful. They're both our boys."

"I know that, Penelope. I haven't forgotten. I just..." But by then Odie had made his presence known by opening the door to the downstairs bathroom. He'd learned how to open the house doors silently by that time, and no lock could seem to hold him. Still, it occasionally was good to rattle his keepers. That was why Odie had slammed the bathroom door behind him. It was to shake up his parents. Or to scare his brother, wherever he could be. It certainly was not because his father had just been on the verge of suggesting that they leave him behind from their yearly outing for their eldest's birthday celebration. No no. It was not because Odie was bothered by the quiver that had entered his mother's voice when she'd mentioned the word 'handful.' It had nothing to do with his parents discussing the problem that he had become over the prior two years. Not at all. Odie reveled in being 'a problem.' Being a problem was not a problem, not at all.

Right.

Odie groaned lightly as he stretched in front of the mirror. He could shower. He woudlnt' be able to hear anything that was said, but he doubted that anyone would say anything about him now that they knew he was in the house. They never did really. He ran a hand through his greasy hair and thought about how it would make his mother happy if he was clean today. She liked things tidy. A sickly twinge in his stomach stopped him though. Odie could never explain that twinge, but it had slowly worn away his will to resist it, just as he had worn away his parents' will to resist him. So whether it told him to leave his bed and wander the streets at night, to break a window, steal from his brother, or wear the same pair of jeans until they were almost as oily as his scalp, Odie did it without question. After all, wasn't it rude for 'normal' people to ask questions?

Odie knew he was adopted, and he always had known. He didn't know how it could've been kept from him either way, considering how different he looked from everyone else in the family, but regardless of the sneaking contempt that he had built up regarding his parents and their son he had to admit that the children had both been treated equally. Odie knew nothing of his real parents, and he didn't think that the man and woman in the kitchen, his 'mother and father', knew anything about them either. These phantom people from Ody's past had given him his first name, but everything else had come from the Wilson's.

If Odie had been any kind of good person, he knew, he really would disappear for this day, at least for the day, to give these people some peace from him. If he had been truly capable of repaying them for their kindness in loving him the best they could and keeping him off of the streets, he probably would've disappeared for much longer. He couldn't though. He couldn't resist the slick impulse that crept behind his eyes and told him to pay this family of his back in an entirely different fashion.

His mother was knocking on the door and letting him know that there were pancakes. She'd made blueberry pancakes for the family, David's favorite, but Ody knew that she would've saved a little batter aside to make some plain ones for he, Ody, who hated berries of all kinds. She would serve it to him with maple syrup that she heated in the warm oven while the pancakes were frying, because she loved him, and he knew that. She loved him and she was going to take him to the zoo along with the father who loved him also, in his way, and the brother who had always tried to. 

An hour later they were in the car on the way to the zoo, which was David's favorite place, and Odie was wearing a fresh pair of jeans.