The Konohazuku Affair

    Harry got Logan on Sundays.  That’s why the band couldn’t practice.  He felt bad about having to put his foot down, but it was his kid, after all.  To tell the truth, he probably should have put aside more time for the boy, but he hadn’t heard any complaints about the current arrangement.  He was, after all, a busy man, and Sundays were just often enough to make him feel like he was fulfilling his duty without it becoming too much of a burden.

    "It’s funny," he would tell Sam, the bassist, "every Sunday I leave him thinking I should spend more time trying to be an actual father.  But twelve hours later, I’m back here and I wonder why the fuck I waste such prime rehearsal time."

    The band barely maintained a reputation among local bars.  Just when it seemed they were done for good, they would have a gig that would send several couples home together and their songs would be played on local college radio for a month straight.

    "He’s a wily kid, let me tell you."  Sam would sip a beer, tune his guitar and only occasionally remember to act interested.  "I remember being wily when I was his age, but not that wily."  At one point Logan had been suspended from his junior high for selling lottery tickets.  He had to give back the $130 he had collected from his peers.

    Harry thought Logan enjoyed their time together, but it was difficult to say.  Logan was a tough kid to read.  He would smirk at most of Harry’s jokes, but somehow never seemed truly impressed by anything he did. The one thing that bothered Harry the most was that Logan didn’t seem to enjoy his cooking.  That hurt, more than anything.  Harry knew, KNEW, he was a good, if not great, cook.  He paraded pulled pork sandwiches, chicken tacos, even creme brulee past Logan.  But…

    "How was it, Logan?"

    "It was okay, dad."

    "Just okay?"

    "Yup, just plain okay."  And he would turn and walk away, leaving his plate.