A Teenager Whose Parents Have Unwelcome News [FICTOID]

“Son, turn off the video game.  We’ve got some bad news for you.”

Tracy paused his first person shooter and set down his soda.  “What?”

“You’re adopted.”

“What?!?!?  No way!  I’ve seen my birth certificate!”

“No, we didn’t adopt you,” his father said.  “We’ve adopted you out.”

“Your new dad will be here in just a few minutes,” his mother said with an angelic smile.

“I can substantiate that,” his father said, “so pack up your comic books and hit the road, slacker.”

“But-but-but you can’t do this!” Tracy cried.

“Can and have,” said his father.

“But why?”

“Kid, you’re eating us out of house and home.”

His mother nodded, adding:  “This is a small apartment, after all, and you are a growing boy.”

“This is ridiculous!” Tracy said.  “It’s a breach of the law!”

“Wrong on both counts,” said his father as the doorbell rang.  “Ah, that’s him now.”

“What?!?!?”

“Now, listen, son, this is all for the best.  Your new father is going to take you into his business.  There’ll be lots of chances for advancement.”

“Doing what?”

“He’s a sanitation engineer,” his mother said.

“A janitor?!?!?”

“Sewer inspector, actually.”

A big beefy man with a peg leg entered the room.  “This be the lad?”

“Yes, sir, that’s our Tracy.”

The big man eyed Tracy coldly then grunted.  “He’ll have to do.  C’mon, lad.  I haven’t all night.”

“No!” said Tracy.  “I’m not -- “

That was as far as he got because the big man grabbed him by the scruff of his neck and dragged him out.  “Help!  Let me go!  This is battery!”

“Bye, son!” said his parents, waving as he vanished into the elevator.

The big man took him down past the lobby, past the basement and the sub-basement to the sub-sub-basement, a dark, dank, dingy chamber of crumbly old bricks.  An open manhole led to the sewer.

“Here, take this,” said the big man, thrusting a harpoon into Tracy’s hands.

“Why do I need this?”

“Have ye seen a great white whale?” the big man asked.

© Buzz Dixon