June 2023 Flash Lit 2 - Side by Side

 “I wonder, now, what the Rules of Battle are,” she said to herself, as she watched the fight, timidly peeping out from her hiding-place: “one Rule seems to be, that if one Knight hits the other, he knocks him off his horse, and if he misses, he tumbles off himself—and another Rule seems to be that they hold their clubs with their arms, as if they were Punch and Judy—What a noise they make when they tumble! Just like a whole set of fire-irons falling into the fender! And how quiet the horses are! They let them get on and off them just as if they were tables!”

Another Rule of Battle, that Alice had not noticed, seemed to be that they always fell on their heads, and the battle ended with their both falling off in this way, side by side: when they got up again, they shook hands, and then the Red Knight mounted and galloped off.

Through the Looking Glass,  Chapter 8

 

 

            Al thought the back seat was probably the worst place on earth.  He wasn’t quite tall enough to see much out the window, not that there was much to see out there anyway.  His legs stuck to the maroon vinyl seat.  His dads wouldn’t let him roll down the windows since the air conditioning was on, but the vents didn’t reach past the front seats.  Worse, his dads were arguing.

            Daddy was driving because Daddy almost always drove.  Al could see Daddy’s knuckles gripping the steering wheel.  All Al could see of Papa was the back of his head.  There was a little lighter patch of skin below Papa’s slicked down hair because he had got his hair cut yesterday.  Papa wanted to look nice for the visit to Granny.

            “Separate rooms?” Papa said, incredulously.  “After all this time?”

            Daddy shrugged.  “She’s set in her ways.”

            “So you’re saying that our marriage means nothing to you?” Papa said, his voice rising in that way it did just before he started to cry.  Al knew it was all right to cry when he was sad, but he still wished Papa didn’t feel like crying.

            “Darling,” Daddy said, taking one hand off the wheel and putting it on Papa’s knee, “of course not.  You are the world to me.  It’s just one night.”

            “One night of your mother pretending that you’re still going to bring home some nice girl with big hair who wants to pop out ten little copies of the two of you.”  Papa sighed.  “At least she loves Al.”

            Al thought about that.  Granny, who always smelled like peaches, hugged him tightly every time they visited.  Sometimes Al came away with an imprint of her tracksuit zipper on his cheek.  She gave him Hot Wheels.  “Just like your Daddy always liked,” she said.  This puzzled Al, because Daddy still liked Hot Wheels; they drove them around the kitchen floor together all the time.

            “I’ll talk to her,” Daddy said.  “I want you to be happy.”

            “Thank you,” Papa said.  He leaned toward Daddy and kissed his cheek.  Then he whispered something in Daddy’s ear and Daddy laughed.

Al knew the argument was over.  He looked at his dads, side by side, and knew everything would be all right.