Chester Keene Cracks the Code

ROUTINE
Everyone probably assumes my life is very boring. Strictly speaking, they’re not wrong. It’s really just that I like things to be done a certain way.
I get up in the morning at 6:35, five minutes after my alarm goes off at 6:30. I have to take five minutes to just lie there and look at the ceiling. I’m not sure why.
A lot of thoughts fill my mind in that morning quiet, and the first thing I want to do is find a way to not think them. When my snooze alarm goes off, it plays music, which helps. My brain sings along to The Best of Motown and that’s always a good way to get things going.
“Things” being: my morning routine.
First, the shower. I wash my hair in there every other day. Brush teeth, for bad-breath control. Put on clothes, usually jeans. I own one pair of corduroys, but I only wear them maybe every other week. Just to mix it up. On top, it’s either T-shirts, or polos with various stripes across the chest. The T-shirts feel better, but the polos do look quite a bit nicer. It all depends on whether it’s a day to be comfortable or a lit- tle more stylish. On the rare occasions when I do polo and corduroys… look out world, here comes Chester Keene.
By 6:55, I’m ready to roll. I scoot into the living room, plop my backpack by the door, with five minutes to spare, which is exactly how long it takes to log in on Mom’s computer and check my email. Fingers crossed.
Today, the only new email is something from school about Yearbook Club. Nothing from Dad.
Refresh.
Still nothing. It has been over two weeks since he last wrote me back.
New message.
Dad? Is everything OK?
My fingers hang over the keys. There isn’t much else to say.
Please write me back.
Wait. Am I being overanxious? Needy? Impatient? Delete.