Read Lord Fear for Free Online

right thing to do to help. And there is definitely a satisfaction in feeling essential. In hearing about his essentialness, too, like he’s the keystone to a building that would crash into a pile of unrelated stones without him. He can see the strain in Beth’s neck when she tells him sincerely that he’s the only one to get through to Josh.
He loves you, he wants to be you, he will listen, he needs you
.
    And it’s true. This cat-torturing boy does need.
    A couple of months ago, Philip watched him stamp his rich-kidsneakers and weep, the kind of ugly weeping where your eyes almost close and your mouth twists in on itself like you’re about to puke. Philip stood in the doorway of the apartment. It was wintertime. It was snowing. My father and Beth, after all the awkward silences and the nasty whispers, were going to take a vacation. They were going to salvage things and leave the boys with Philip so that he could provide his own kind of salvaging.
    The phone rang from the airport—all the flights were canceled because of the snow; the parents would be stuck at home. My father went to put his coat away. Beth sat on the couch, turned on the television, and tried hard not to look anyone in the eyes. Philip was silent but relieved, already thinking of a weekend free of forced father-figure bullshit. Dave gave a disappointed shrug and sat down next to his mother, asked for the remote.
    Plans had been changed; everybody would go on living.
    But when Philip looked at Josh, there was darkness. He really thought that word,
darkness
, a metaphorical shadow on the kid’s face, so apparent that it became visibly real. It felt too big and melodramatic a word to describe a cranky preteen, but what else? He was like an old clock spring, winding tighter, tighter.
    Josh began to howl, a strange mimic of the wind outside as the storm picked up. When he ran out of breath, it seemed like it might be over, but then he gasped and howled again.
    Stop
, Philip thought.
For everyone’s sake, don’t be embarrassing. Realize how embarrassing you’re being and then stop it
.
    Josh did not stop. He kicked at the coffee table as he ran to his bedroom. The family trailed him. Philip watched. He watched Josh writhe on his bed, screaming the word
no
until it sounded like he had a stutter. It was the kind of gutted repetition that actors utilize in movies when something
awful
, like genocide awful, has happened, and even then you wonder if they’re overdoing it. Philip always preferred subtlety on-screen, in general.There should be some correlation between the seismic effect of an event and a person’s reaction to it. Looking at Josh, Philip didn’t see a logical correlation to anything.
    Beth tried to move in on her son, to love him, wrap him up. It was a sweet impulse, but Josh was too big for the moment to look sweet. He was a broad-shouldered boy, a bit chubby, larger already than his mother as she tried to hold him in small, shaking hands. She wanted to swaddle him, her baby, but he wasn’t a baby and she couldn’t. Philip watched her roll off, then sit next to him on the bed, reaching out every few seconds to touch him on his heaving back and see if he felt it. Josh hid his face in a pillow, but he kept screaming. It looked like the sound was escaping through his ears.
    Dave lingered by Philip’s leg like the cat. He reached up, pawed him, and wanted to know why all of this was happening.
What’s wrong with him?
is what he said. Philip didn’t answer. He patted Dave’s head. He wondered what strange feat of genetics could make one boy so solid, so right, and send another shrieking and babyish into puberty. It felt important to let Dave know, in some way, that he wasn’t implicated in this. That Josh was the kind of flawed that provides no lineage or explanation.
    My father stood over the bed for a while, palms up like he was asking a question. His shoulders, broad like his son’s, were tense, almost at his earlobes. He coughed and