Attachment Strings by Chris T. Kat

Parker let out an exasperated sigh and clasped one of the boy’s hands in his own. “Nice to meet you, Sean, I’m Detective Trenkins.”
    Sean’s head bobbed up and down so fast I feared it would fall off. It didn’t, though. “The name Mr. Clark gave us was Samuel Fisher, not Sean Fisher.”
    “His full name is Samuel Sean Fisher. Everyone always calls him Sean.”
    “Wouldn’t it have made more sense to name him Sean Samuel Fisher?” The venom in my voice surprised even me. Parker cleared his throat loudly, while Alex looked at me dumbfounded.
    The dumbfounded expression didn’t hold for long. With equal acidity, he replied, “That’s none of your business, is it? What do you want from us? And why did you talk with Mr. Clark? Sean is doing well in school and we’ve got everything arranged. Don’t you usually bring someone from welfare with you?”
    Confused, I blinked. “Welfare? We’re running an investigation, or more precisely, we’re investigating if an investigation should be started.”
    “That doesn’t make any sense at all to me. Get to the point.”
    “The point is that we need to ask you a few questions. I take it that you’re Alexander Fisher, Samuel Fisher’s legal guardian?”
    “Yes,” Alex ground out.
    He swept his little brother up into his arms so briskly it set off all my alarm bells. If that wasn’t a protective gesture born out of pure fright, I didn’t know what it was. I almost didn’t get his next words. “I need to feed Sean. If you’ve got any questions, come in or come again another day. What is it going to be?”
    Alex’s eyes displayed his fright and anger. At the same time, his stance showed him ready to fight and protect. A rather disconcerting sight in my book. He shouldn’t be afraid of us. We were supposed to be the good guys.
    I doubted I had come across as a good guy during the last few minutes. I didn’t even try thinking about yesterday evening where I hadn’t given him a chance to explain about the phone call and Sean.
    “We’re coming in.” I kept my voice steady and confident. It had nothing to do with how I felt at that moment.
    Alex turned on his heels, one hand pressed against the back of Sean’s head, cradling it securely from flailing back and forth. Did the boy have any control over his body at all? At least he had been able to stand with support.
    Parker and I followed Alex into the house. Sean’s head rested on Alex’s shoulder and he made no secret of scrutinizing us. His eyes were the same color as Alex’s, a very deep brown, almost black. They seemed like bottomless pits, challenging me. I did my best not to show my unease too openly. I wasn’t very successful.
    We walked through a short hallway and entered a small kitchen. Alex placed Sean in a wheelchair, fixed belts on his feet and waist, and tied a big bib around his neck. He pointed to the chairs standing opposite Sean’s wheelchair. “Have a seat.”
    The table had already been set for two people. It was awkward sitting at the table, watching Alex prepare a sandwich for his brother. Sean told him what he wanted, though I didn’t get how Alex understood one single word. Still, he chattered on with his brother, even encouraged him to place a slice of salami on his bread. Horrified, I watched Sean crumple the salami in his hand, then smash it onto the bread.
    I glanced at Parker, who stared at the scene in front of him in fascination. He didn’t show any sign of disgust, though, which bothered me. Since when was he so open-minded? Did he remember scenes from his childhood? How could Alex praise Sean for his effort when the end result was truly, uh, interesting to look at?
    I jumped when Alex asked curtly, “What did you want to ask?”
    After cutting the sandwich in neat little cubes, he gently pressed a fork into Sean’s left hand. He waited until Sean held it securely in his fist. Only then did he let it go. The fork crashed down on the plate forcefully, eliciting a loud