Father's Day by Simon van Booy

black holes.”
    The woman nodded and wrote something down.
    Then Harvey thought of something else. “And who will look after me if Jason dies. Maybe you, Wanda?” Harvey said, turning to look at her.
    Wanda touched her shoulder. “Maybe sweetie pie.”
    The court officials reassured Harvey that Jason almost certainly would not die, and asked if she had bad dreams at night.
    â€œI once dreamed that the house burned down. My toys got burned too.”
    The woman said it must have been bad. What a terrible dream to have.
    â€œTheir faces melted,” Harvey said. “Like in a horror movie I saw.”
    â€œWhat horror movie was that?” Jason wanted to know.
    Harvey shrugged.
    â€œTell us more about the dream,” the man said.
    â€œThat dream was with my first mom and dad,” Harvey told him. “But I’m not scared now, because if anyone tried to burn down the house, Jason would blind them.”
    Wanda laughed and brought up the subject of budgeting.
    After talking for a little longer, the woman suggested they sit with Jason alone for a while. Harvey was taken to a room where children were supervised and could play with toys. Jason looked at her empty seat until Wanda returned and the interview continued.
    The man saw him looking. “Harvey will see you as her father eventually,” the man said. “If she doesn’t already.”
    â€œAnd her mother too,” the woman added. “Unless there’s a strong female presence in her life, you’re playing the role of both parents.”
    â€œWanda is a good female presence,” Jason said.
    â€œBut I won’t always be with you, sweetie,” Wanda said, patting his arm. “I have other cases, and I’m going to retire soon.”
    The woman wanted to know how Jason felt he might cope without being able to call on Wanda.
    â€œFine,” Jason said. “I pretty much know what to do.”
    â€œAnd what’s that?” the woman said flatly.
    Jason looked at Wanda, who nodded for him to speak up.
    â€œMake sure there are three good meals a day, keep the house clean, make sure there’s heat and everything is safe.”
    Wanda had gone over this with Jason. It was a standard question, but the woman kept nodding, so Jason tried to think of more things to say.
    â€œSpend time with her. Take her to the doctor if she gets sick, make her buckle up and shout at her if she doesn’t, teach her not to steal, teach her to be a good person, don’t let her use knives, make sure her window is closed at night so she can’t get abducted, keep her away from stray dogs, people on drugs . . .”
    â€œOkay,” the woman said. “That’s good, Jason.”
    â€œWhat’s a typical meal like?” the man asked. “Just something you would normally make.”
    â€œShe gets more than enough to eat,” Jason said. “There’s always leftovers.”
    â€œLike what kind of stuff?” the man said.
    â€œPizza, chicken fingers, french fries, Hot Pockets, toast, cereal, apple slices, pork and beans, cereal, ravioli, mini-hamburgers, ravioli, pasta, corn, mozzarella sticks, ice cream . . .”
    â€œYou’re making me hungry,” the man said.
    â€œLast week Jason made his first meat loaf,” Wanda told them.
    This made the woman smile. “It’s hard to make a good meat loaf. How did you stop it from drying out?”
    â€œCovered it,” Jason said.
    The woman wrote meat loaf on her legal pad and circled it.
    â€œWhat was your father like, Jason?” the man asked.
    Jason thought for a moment. “Full of energy,” he said.
    â€œHow do you mean?” the man wanted to know.
    Wanda cleared her throat. “He was a World War II hero.”
    â€œThe war messed him up,” Jason said. “But we had fun in the end.”
    â€œThat’s excellent,” said the man. “Families who laugh a lot are usually