#i've wanted to write a modernization all winter and u are the perf partner ily

[pacificgrimsarc]

"Of course," Asa couldn't help but smile at the mention of their son's unbreakable reading habit. "We should've known he'd read through his whole stash within two weeks." His eyes flickered to the pile of books stacked horizontally on the bookshelf in the living room, imagining Benny picking one up and, hours later, setting it down to create a new pile.

At one point, there were two piles—about a dozen chapter books of different, popular children's series and one-offs. Separately kept were a couple of animal and world encyclopedias, though the world one wouldn't be touched, Asa knew, unless Benny was really that bored. Now the main fiction pile had migrated over to the right, telling Asa only one thing, something he'd assumed: Benny had already finished reading everything he brought and, being the voracious reader he was, was now resorting to scouring around the Overlook for something different. Creatures of habit that we are, Benny likely found an earlier installment in his beloved Percy Jackson series—he was up-to-date—that he hadn't brought and decided to go down memory lane.

Little by little, Benny was growing into his father. Benny was barely 7 years old but reading above his grade level, grabbing books targeted at middle school-aged kids and long bored of his set of My First I Can Reads, even if he hadn't gotten to the better-known stories yet. Brown Bear, Brown Bear, What Do You See? was growing dust back at home, and it wouldn't be long before Benny would graduate from Percy Jackson to Harry Potter and so on. Asa didn't have as many fun options when he was young—he started with the grim tales of V. C. Andrews when he turned 9—but the core was the same. Benny was smarter than all the other kids, and at points, smarter than his parents. Asa had been the same way, and it was what launched him into being a scholar—a professor at one of the Ivy League schools, a playwright who was coming off the heels of his well-attended debut one-man production. Life was going as he'd always imagined until

Six hours. Six hours. Six hours.

Six days. Six days. Six days.

Six fingers. Six fingers. Six fingers.

Benny doesn't need all 10

"Daddy!"

Asa felt a harsh tug on his coat sleeve. It was Benny. "Daddy! You said you were gonna go with me for this one." He pointed over at the sled, bouncing as he stood. Kids had no bones, it felt like. Asa could already feel his bones aching after one ride on this thing.

"Alright, ranger, I'm coming!" He laughed, swooping Benny up from his feet before he could run too far ahead. Asa sat on the sled first, then pulled Benny in between his legs. "Hold on tight," he told his son, who grabbed the handle at the front of the sled. They were atop one of the smaller hills that separated the hotel itself from the rest of the Overlook property; Asa could already see a long strip of no-snow that Benny had carved from his last few rides on the sled. How come Asa couldn't remember any of that?

Asa glanced over his shoulder at his wife, squinting one eye so he could see her past the snow. "You mind giving us a push, baby?" | @someotherdog

it wasn’t as if asa didn’t deserve his time to write. when the job opportunity came up—winter caretaker of the overlook hotel—nadine hadn’t wanted him to take it. though they never had to want for money with her real estate firm raking in millions yearly, her husband needed a sabbatical. he needed some isolation, some privacy. nadine needed one too, if she were to be honest. she sacrificed a lot for her career, and sometimes she sacrificed family for it. she worked long hours to support their family and, truthfully, to support her own ego. she felt good when she got to list a highly sought after property. she felt good when she saw the commission checks. she felt good until she saw the disappointment on her son’s face when she missed a soccer practice or a piano recital.

so, this was supposed to be good for all three of them. she had to push aside any reservations, like the loneliness that was sure to plague her. a reservation like all the snow they were going to endure, high up in the mountains where emergency services were only contactable through a radio. a reservation that, while the overlook was a beautiful hotel, it was also kind of… creepy. (though, to be fair, nadine didn’t figure that out until the beginning of week two when she could’ve sworn there were noises coming from room 237 or when she could’ve sworn she saw the retreating back of a stranger walking into the manager’s office.) she ignored everything to make asa happy because everyone tried to make nadine happy her entire life. it was her husband’s turn, so she’d turn up the tv on general hospital when there were strange noises coming from the room down the hall or pretend she didn’t see a child—one that wasn’t her own—peeking out from behind doorways. it was fine. it was fine! she was fine.

it didn’t help that asa seemed to disappear for hours at a time. she knew physically where he was, sitting at his laptop in the piano room for hours like a meditating monk, but he was nigh unreachable in that room. when he went to write, he went to another world. nadine could bang pots and pans together inches from his face and it was like she wasn’t even there. just hearing his voice then made her nearly jump out of her skin. turning away from the snowy tundra outside the window, she placed a soft smile on her face that nearly twitched after the mention of ullman—ugh, dastardly man. “that sounds like a great idea, honey. i’ll see if i can rouse him out of bed since the promise of waffles didn’t get him up—he found one of those percy jackson books in the billiards room and hasn’t stopped reading it for days.”