“We’re going to die, aren’t we?” Frederick said. “We’re going to starve to death.”
Edward held his pudgy hands one on top of the other in his lap and began to rock back and forth. “We’ll be okay,” he lied.
“Did anyone see Dave?” Alan asked.
“No,” Frederick said. “We asked the golems, we asked Dad, we asked the goblin, but no one saw him. No one’s seen him for years.”
Alan thought for a moment about how to ask his next question. “Did you look in the pool? On the bottom?”
“He’s not there!” Edward said. “We looked there. We looked all around Dad. We looked in town. Alan, they’re both gone.”
Alan felt a sear of acid jet up esophagus. “I don’t know what to do,” he said. “I don’t know where to look. Frederick, can’t you, I don’t know, stuff yourself with something? So you can eat?”
“We tried,” Edward said. “We tried rags and sawdust and clay and bread and they didn’t work. I thought that maybe we could get a child and put him inside, maybe, but God, Albert, I don’t want to do that, it’s the kind of thing Dan would do.”
Alan stared at the softly glowing wood floors, reflecting highlights from the soft lighting. He rubbed his stocking toes over the waxy finish and felt its shine. “Don’t do that, okay?” he said. “I’ll think of something. Let me sleep on it. Do you want to sleep here? I can make up the sofa.”
“Thanks, big brother,” Edward said. “Thanks.”