Orel was such a giddy, energetic young boy. He was very talkative and chatty, he loved God and the bible, everything if the sort.

He was such a know-it-all at school, Bloberta and Clay were very aware of that. It was surprising that Orel was so polite and well-put despite his upbringing.

During school, because they lived in an extremely religious, Protestant town, it was very common for Orel to be taught more about religion than anything else.

Science was barely touched on in his school.

At school that day, they had a religious lesson on marriage, and to the very curious mind of Orel, it brought up so many questions.

He was practically bursting at the seams with thoughts and questions — and..and more questions — for his mother and father when he hit home.

Why did his parents get married? How was it like when Bloberta and Clay got married? Is there any excuses that meant God would let people get divorced? It was very exciting to thing about.

Orel hummed to himself, skipping as he came inside of the house. Oh, maybe his father was home and maybe he wasn't drunk for once and maybe he was in a good mood and maybe he would be nice to Orel and maybe he wouldn't hit Bloberta and maybe he wouldn't yell and maybe he wouldn't hit Orel or Shapey and maybe he wouldn't even..

Orel cut off his train of ridiculous thought.

He slung his school bag into the coathanger, made sure there was no dirt on his shoes, and then quickly went upstairs, excitedly and full of energy.

Orel smiled at his mother, Bloberta, who was sat in the hallway, aggressively scrubbing down on the wooden floorboards. Orel twiddled his thumbs, standing over her and swaying side to side subtly and childishly.

"Hey, Mom." Orel began, smiling innocently. He couldn't smell any strong alcohol in the hallway, that meant his dad was probably at work. "Why did you marry dad? I was just thinking about it while I was at school, just because when Dad drinks, he changes. He gets angry and stuff." Orel said, twiddling his thumbs again, subtly swaying.