Chapter 3 - THE SLIPPING STEEL

The ambient chatter from the nearby booths seemed to fade into distant background noise. On the counter radio, a slow country ballad played quietly, its slide guitar notes echoing off the metal fixtures.
Erin wiped June’s chin with a paper napkin, sensing that the dynamic between the two men had shifted into something fraught and volatile. She gathered her empty serving tray, intending to give the family space while keeping a vigilant eye on them from the counter.
"I’ll fetch you some fresh water," Erin said quietly, beginning to lift her frame from the wooden chair.
The moment Erin moved away, June erupted into an urgent, frustrated sound.
It was not a child's complaint; it was a sharp, terrified vocalization that vibrated through her small chest. June leaned forward against her chest harness as far as her body permitted, her sneakers pressing hard against the metal footrests of her chair.
Erin stopped immediately. "June? What is it?"
June’s dark eyes darted frantically toward the folded paper napkin resting beside Cal’s plate.
Erin reached out, picking up the napkin with careful fingers. "This? Do you need a napkin, sweetie?"
June quickly shook her head, her dark curls swaying frantically around her face. Her eyes remained locked on the space right behind the napkin.
She pointed with her gaze, concentrating every ounce of her energy toward Cal’s right hand.
Erin followed the child’s vision back to the table.
Cal’s right arm had returned to the table surface. He was reaching for a heavy stainless steel fork lying beside his plate, attempting to pick it up. But his fingers were completely uncooperative. They twitched violently against the formica, his silver rings tapping out a rapid, erratic rhythm against the table top.
Cal’s jaw muscles bulged as he forced his mind to command his physical frame. His face grew rapidly pale, his breath catching in his throat as he tried to wrap his thumb and forefinger around the polished handle.
May you like
He couldn't close his grip.
Before anyone could offer assistance, the steel fork slipped completely through his numb fingers. It clattered loudly against the rim of his ceramic plate before dropping off the edge of the table, hitting the linoleum floor with a sharp, echoing metallic strike.