EDDIE WATCHED HIS stepfather struggle with lighting the model rocket’s ignition.
“Come on… come on… stupid thing.” His stepfather looked over at him, an embarrassed grin on his face. “Stupid wick, right?”
Eddie refrained from rolling his eyes. This was supposed to be a bonding experience. His mother wanted them to get along. Besides, his stepfather was a nice guy. A loser, sure, but a nice guy loser. “Wicks are stupid,” he agreed. “We don’t have to do this – ”
“Nope, nope… back up.” The wick caught and his stepfather leapt to his feet, pulling him back by his shoulders. “Let’s watch this baby blow into space – ”
The spark reached the detonator. There was a hiss, some smoke, and a loud bang. Once the smoke cleared, Eddie saw the burning remains of the rocket sat smoking on its stick, like a burned corndog. He waved his hand in front of his face, trying hard to not see the symbolism in what had just happened.
“Well, that went kaput,” his stepfather muttered, picking up the fire extinguisher. “What do you say about some ice cream?”
adjective | kuh-PUT
1 : utterly finished, defeated, or destroyed