“I won’t leave you, and we’re staying.  Which means”—

“I can’t, I can’t, I ca”—Kayleigh clapped her hand to his mouth, muffling the noise.  “You, Frank, are the only one who can survive going outside right now.  I, and you, Beagan, are too ill to go anywhere, especially school.”

“But I like school, I like Mrs. O’Neill!”

“Hush.  Now, Frank, you must continue your education.  Go to school, eat, come home, and do your eccer.  You follow?”

“And how are you two going to eat?”

There was a long pause, and for a moment they could only hear the vicious winter wind whipping the air outside.  Even Beagan quieted for a moment, ears pricked up, listening.

“We’ll manage.”

“No we won’t!”  squealed Beagan again, still prying open his mother’s arms, breaking the silence.

“I’ll sneak you two foods from the school cafeteria.”

“Don’t you dare young man.  No matter how bad things get, we never steal, and are always honest.”

“Doomed to die because of you, mum! You, you, you, you!” 

“Frank, tomorrow be careful, alright?”

“Yeh, mum.  I-I”—Frank felt his throat seize up.  “I love you.”  Frank felt tears running down his cheeks.  Later that night, Frank fell asleep on the floor next to the bed his mother and brother shared.  “We never steal, and are always honest.”

Frank saw his mother even frailer than she was now.  And his little brother, Beagan, shivering in a corner.  He was sleeping.  “Food, food, food!”  he grumbled.  Frank called for Kayleigh, but she just lay in her bed, staring at the ceiling.  She was paralyzed.  Something was wrong.  She moved her mouth, and Frank rushed to her side.  “Help.”  Her eyes widened as they looked past his.  Frank turned, and Alroy was towering over them, intensely rich, the pan from yesterday in one hand and the iron in the other.  “Oh, just be patient, Kayleigh!  Just leave dem kids and it’ll get better!”  He swung the pan, and Frank dodged it, leaping out of the way but instead brought it crashing down onto—

Abruptly awake, Frank sprang to his feet soundlessly and managed not to scream, but it was a very close thing.  His heart was thumping madly in his chest, but his drunk, failure of a father wasn’t here, his brother wasn’t shivering in the corner, and nor, did it seem, was his mother paralyzed, but—I won’t let that happen.  He fumbled for a match, and squinted for a candle in the near darkness, finding neither.  Knocking into the bed, he heard his mother snore gently.  Re-adjusting his position, he tried the desk next to the bed.  Opening the drawer, he peered into it, rustling a few papers unintentionally, but Kayleigh and his brother thankfully slept on.  Once he located a match and a candle after many long minutes, he exited the room, and pulled on as much warm clothing as he could.  Slipping on his father’s snow boots that Alroy had forgotten, he walked to the door, but stopped with his hand on the knob.  Glancing over his shoulder, Frank whispered, “I’ll be back, mum, I’ll come back.”  He then twisted the knob, and stepped out of the basement apartment, the early morning sprinkle of snow trickling down his back.