In a hospital there was a man.
“You be good, Kyle,” said a woman, leaving her four year old son there with the man.
The boy said nothing and his great-grandpa stared at him, saying nothing. The boy walked over and looked at the man’s face. The man turned his head and looked at the boy. His voice was ghostly and weak when he said:
“Clyde, you go sit down now.”
The boy made a face. He climbed up on the rail of the bed and looked down on the man.
“Get the hell down.”
The boy laughed and walked sideways on the rail. He pulled the corded control that lay beside the man and began turning the channels on the TV. The old man tried to raise his leg but he couldn’t. Only his foot moved. The boy stopped the TV on a channel with a person dressed in a bright pink, soft-looking hog suit who snorted and danced with a person dressed as, what looked to be, a deer. The boy laughed at it.
“You whistledick, give it—”
He reached out for the control and touched it with his callused fingers. The boy jerked it away.