Dada: Chapter 6b

  Sam walks back in less than two minutes.  I know what he's going to say before it mumbles out of his mouth.
   "What's for dinner?"
   "I wasn't planning much.  I usually go out for dinner on Thursdays.  Since I didn't know I was going to have a guest, we pretty much stuck with frozen.  I've got a fairly good selection, and we have  some fresh things that we have to use soon, so it won't be as hopeless as it sounds."
   "Frozen," Sam whimpers.
   "What do you expect?  I'm a twenty-seven year old bachelor.  I don't cook, unless I really want to or need to."  I reply.
    "Fine."
     Sam quickly finds the chicken parm to his liking; I go for the meat loaf.  While I microwave his meal,  I toss up a salad using the last of the lettuce and tomato I have.  It's not much of a salad, but it would all go bad once we leave for New York.   I get his plate ready while my tray is cooking.
    "I'm sorry this isn't that much.  We will also have to drink the last of the milk.  Anything we don't have tonight, we can eat tomorrow for breakfast."
    We sit at the dining room table, eating in silence.  There's so much I need toast Sam, but I don't want to bring up anything that could upset him.  I know I have to ask him soon.  This just ions't the best time.
   "Why are there books in the china cabinets?  I noticed books all over your home gym, as well," Sam piped up.   He must have done a little snooping when he went to wash up.
    "Blame the previous owners.  When the bank foreclosed, they left much of the furniture.  She only took. the really valuable stuff that she bought and liked.  She left everything that wasn't hers or too big to be useful.  Since they didn't have any bookcases and I don't have any china, I put many of books where I can.  I've got so many that they have started to spread onto the exercise equipment."
   "It looked like you didn't use it much," Sam plainly said.
    I almost do a spit take.  I admit I've put on some weight since I graduated, but I didn't think it was that bad or noticeable.  Sure, I may have gone up one size in my pants, but most of my older stuff still kind of fits.
   "I work out.  Once, twice a week.  I just don't know how to use most of it.  They're not originally mine, after all."
    "Whatever."  Sam barely whispers out that out, but I can almost see a smile crack as he bends his head down for another bite.
     "We're going to have leave early tomorrow, so you'll have to go to bed by nine.   After dinner and dishes, you're going to have to take a bath.  Change into your PJs, and I'll wash your other clothes, so everything will be clean for the trip.  I've already fixed the bed for you for tonight.  I'm taking the couch.  As you already know, it's fairly comfortable."
   Sam barely nods.  I know he's not liking the idea, but it must be done.
  After we're done eating, I turn on the television to catch the seven o'clock news.  I can hear it from the kitchen, even if I can't see it.  Not much happened in Lexington today.  At least to anyone else.  Storms could be headed this way for the weekend, but Friday looks dry.  Good news for the trip.
    I finish the dishes in a few minutes.  We're not talking.  We don't want to talk, and I won't force the issue.  Some people just want to fill the silences, but not me.  I prefer to listen.  It usually turns out a little awkward, but most get the lesson.
   At just before eight, I send Sam to take a bath so I can wash his clothes, as well as the dirty linens and a few other things.  I usually do the wash on Saturday mornings, but since I won't be here I have to tonight.  I hate having to change my schedule, but I do it.  I'll have more in the morning.
   I leave out a tote for Sam to put his stuff in.  He looks uncomfortable in his pajamas, as I get him set for the night.
  "I've got it as dark in here as I can.  It's still light out, and I'm sorry if you have trouble falling asleep.   I'll get you up about five.  It shouldn't take too long to finish everything before we leave.  I'll have the rest of your clothes ready by then.  If you have any trouble in the night, don't be afraid to wake me. Good night."
    "Night," Sam responds as I flip the light off.
    I still have a few last things to do.  There's one last load in the dryer.  I'll have to wait until morning to shower, soI won't wake Sam.  I brush my teeth and finish up in the tiny half-bath off from the laundry room.  It's sort of my little secret.
    It will take another ten minutes for the dryer, so I start to pack up my Mac.  Before I do, I decide to do one last search.  I tried at the office and when I was talking to mom, but I never got the chance.  Now, I do.  I type in 'Phillip Joshua Burton' with  a '-obituary' qualifier.  I want to know how he lived, not how he died.
    I instantly ignore the re-election campaign for a California state senator.  Also, the "Phillip Burton Film Appreciation Society".  There's a gun store in Alabama, and a senior citizen marathon record holder in Florida.  The top entry on the second page looks promising.  It the faculty of a NYC area university.   I click the link.
    "Phillip Burton, PhD, Art Instruction, Multi-Discipline"
    Art?  I look down the entry, showing his multiple shows and accomplishments.  He's been teaching for over a decade, with distinction.  He taken the last year off, sabbatical.  Doesn't say why.  The staff picture finally downloads.  It's him.  Same brown hair, a little gray at the temples.  Same brown eyes, piercing into me.  Light beard, flecks of grey there too.  I see myself.  I see Sam.  This has to be him.
    The dryer tone goes off.  I quickly erase my history and sign off.  I'll try packing it up int he morning.  I get the last of the linens out and folded for tomorrow.  I'm glad I changed the sheets.  Sam might not like the fact that I usually sleep in the nude this time year.
   I start turning out the lights, as I fix up the pillow and blanket on the couch.  I lay in the dark for a few minutes.  I saw my Dad.  It was him!  Too late to be any good.  I cry myself to sleep.