The Last Hiccup by Christopher Meades Read Free Book Online Page A

dozens of doctors over the past year and a half and none of them have reported anything out of the ordinary. He’s docile and accommodating almost to a fault. What on Earth did he say to make you come to this conclusion?”
    Markus sat down and leaned back in his chair. Almost instantly his anger fled and was replaced by a glazed, gaping fear. He slumped forward, looking much older than the man Sergei had seen that morning. For ten more minutes, Sergei implored Markus to reveal what Vladimir had said. Markus kept shaking his head. He refused to divulge what transpired while he was alone with the boy. The two doctors exchanged words. Markus, resolute, kept repeating the same cryptic command — “You must distance yourself from that child.” Eventually, Sergei gave up trying to squeeze blood from a stone. He made his way to leave. Before he shut the door, Markus stood up from his chair.
    â€œThis afternoon, I’m going to purchase a pistol,” he said. “And from this day forward, I will carry that pistol with me wherever I go. When I’m awake, I’ll keep it in my breast pocket. And when I’m asleep, I will have my finger coiled around the trigger under my pillow.”
    â€œWhatever for?” Sergei said.
    â€œBecause when Vladimir comes for me, and I believe he will, I won’t greet him pleasantly or run away. As Christ is my witness, I’ll shoot him dead as he stands.”
    Sergei stood in the doorway with a look of shock on his face. Words escaped him. The doctor Namestikov could only stare at Markus, who returned his gaze with a determined glare of his own. The two old friends remained locked in perpetuity until finally Sergei relented and closed the door. He stood on the other side for a full minute, unsure what to do. Should he apologize to Markus? Should he storm back in and demand an explanation? Sergei didn’t believe either would do any good. Markus had passed judgment on Vladimir, and nothing he said or did would change that. Sergei put his hand up to the office door, held it there, then left the waiting room and walked down the staircase to the outside.
    The afternoon sky had started to concede to the purple shadows lurking behind the clouds overhead. Sergei walked under a hazy mist of rain and approached Vladimir as he knelt beside the car. Having long finished the
syrniki
, Vladimir was on his knees searching the clear patch of grass. He stood up when he saw Sergei approaching. Something was between Vladimir’s fingers. Sergei looked closer to discover a ladybug. Almost immediately, any doubt Sergei had about his charge’s character was put to rest. He saw in front of him what he’d always seen — an innocent nine-year-old boy stricken by an unbearable affliction. Markus must have been out of his mind.
    â€œI’ve named her Kerkira.” Vladimir held the miniature red bug up proudly.
    â€œThat’s very nice,” Sergei said. “Now please get in the vehicle. We’re going home.”
    As Vladimir walked around to the passenger’s side, Sergei spotted a burgundy candy-bar wrapper protruding from the boy’s back pocket.
    â€œWhere did you get that candy?” Sergei said.
    Young Vlad didn’t respond.
    â€œAnswer me,” Sergei said. “Did Markus give it to you? No? Then where did you get it?”
    Vladimir hesitated and then pointed across the street to the café where Sergei had purchased his coffee. Inside an old shopkeeper was sweeping the floor.
    â€œDid you pay for the candy?”
    Vladimir shook his head.
    â€œYou must pay for things,” Sergei said. “Don’t be angry with me. This is an important lesson every boy must learn. Now please go back and return the candy to the shopkeeper.”
    The boy’s blank expression grew tight on his face, his eyes squinting until their whites formed sharp triangles on either side of his irises. Sergei braced himself for an argument