William Edwards Leaves His Screaming Son on a Friday Afternoon in Hartford
Owen kicked the back of my seat for the fourth time in three miles, his small sneakers hitting the worn fabric with a rhythmic, hollow thud. In the rearview mirror, his cheeks were flushed, and he held his stuffed dog, Barnaby, so tightly by its one remaining ear that the fabric was white under his fingers.
“Please do not make me stay at Grandma’s, Daddy,” he whispered, his voice high and breathless.
The car heater gave a weak, metallic rattle, blowing lukewarm air over my ankles before dying out again, leaving only the chill of the Hartford autumn.
Marsha sat beside me, her profile completely rigid behind her oversized black sunglasses, her fingers tapping a rapid, impatient beat against her leather purse.
I adjusted my thin wire-rimmed glasses, sliding them up the bridge of my nose as the damp smell of wet oak leaves drifted through the failing vents.
“He is just anxious, Marsha,” I said, keeping my voice soft, the way I did when my students got overwhelmed before midterms. “Under clinical observations, a transition like this often triggers a regression in sensory processing.”
“He is five years old, William, not a specimen in your community college lab,” she said, her voice sharp and clipped. “Stop babying him.”
We crawled through the Friday afternoon traffic, the tail-lights of the delivery trucks ahead casting a dull red glow across our dashboard.
Owen unbuckled his booster seat with a sharp click and tried to scramble forward between our headrests, his breathing coming in fast, shallow gasps.
“Daddy, please, Barnaby is scared of her house,” he cried, reaching his small hand toward my shoulder, his fingers trembling.
Before I could reach back to guide him down, Marsha turned in her seat with a sudden, fluid speed and clamped her hand around his left wrist.
Her manicured nails pressed deep into his skin, holding him frozen in the gap between the seats.
“Sit back and buckle up, Owen,” she said, her tone mockingly sweet but quiet.
She held him there for five seconds, her grip unyielding, before she finally released him and turned back to the windshield.
