by Ike Hamill
Gus didn’t whine. He didn’t put on his brat face or anything. He simply said, “No, Mom, we talked about this.”
June sighed.
They had talked about this.
“You’re right.”
He took her hand and let her lead the way.
June pushed through to the hall.
The floor tilted a little to the right on the other side of the doorway. An instant later, everything seemed to be perfectly flat and level again, but June knew that the world had shifted a little bit. With her first steps, she tried to keep her eyes locked straight ahead on the kitchen at the end of the hall. It was impossible. Left and right there were rooms that she hadn’t laid her eyes on in years and years.
She saw Auggie’s bag at the foot of a bed. Millie’s stuffed animals were on top of a dresser, waiting patiently for her to go to bed so they could be properly snuggled until she fell asleep. People had cared for these rooms—swept and dusted them. They were only ten feet from the edge of June’s domain, but they might as well have been in another country. She could barely believe that they were real.
“Faster, Mom,” Gus said.
He was right.
For one of his science classes, Gus had mixed together what he called a, “Non-Newtonian Fluid.” Struck fast, her fist would bounce right off the stuff. But when she let her hand sink slowly, the fluid accepted her hand easily, almost greedily. The hall was like that, in a way. The more that June slowed down, the more malleable the walls became. The rooms wanted her to sink inside and be absorbed.
If they kept going fast, the house appeared to stay more solid. She followed Gus’s advice and sped up.
The kitchen was difficult, though. She had spent so many spring mornings, watching the sun filter through the window near the corner while Aunt Allison scrambled eggs. She had waited at the little table for the dryer to buzz so that she could pull on her favorite sweatshirt on a winter afternoon.
The kitchen was full of memories and there were new things to see as well. Auggie had put a microwave on the counter near the refrigerator. The loaf of bread that Jules had made was over near the sink.
“Mom!” Gus said, getting her back on track again.
They had one more hallway to traverse. It would be the most difficult. The last time that June had been in there, it felt like she and Auggie were running for their lives. As far as she knew, as soon as she stepped foot in that hall again, the house would try to finish the job of eating her.
She didn’t allow herself to hesitate any longer. Squeezing Gus’s hand for comfort, she stepped into the short back hall.
# # # #
In her memory, the dining room had become a dingy mess of peeling paint and smudges that wouldn’t come clean. June felt a little satisfaction when she saw that her vision of the dining room was perfectly accurate.
Gus led the way to the far side of the table. Jules came in behind them, carrying a small chair to put behind the one that June would take. Gus was her backup, literally.
Lowering herself into the chair and inching forward until her legs were under the table, June began to think that it was going to be okay. The clock in the corner counted off the seconds with its pendulum. Auggie would have wound it a couple of days before, just to be sure that it would keep proper time.
“You don’t have to stay,” she wanted to whisper over her shoulder, but she didn’t. At this point, Gus would have to walk back down to the front room on his own, and June couldn’t stomach that idea. She would have no way of knowing if he made it there safe. It was best if he stayed where she could protect him.
June put her hands flat on the table and then took them off quickly. Sitting there like that, with her hands on the polished wood, it felt too much like a seance, and that was way too close to the truth.
Behind her, Gus slid forward until his knee was touching the back of June’s chair.
The others started to take their seats. Jules sat on June’s left and Auggie on her right. Deidra was across.
Auggie let out a long slow breath and drummed the table with his fingers.
June shot him a look, hoping to get him to sit still so she could stay in control until midnight.
“You ready for this? How you doing?”
“I’m fine. Just… Hush, please.”
The whole room went quiet.
Uncle Tommy swept in on a gust of cold air. He didn’t make eye contact with anyone. He took the chair at the head of the table and propped his elbows up. When his fingers were folded together, he looked up at the chandelier.
June heard Jules exhale.
They heard Great Uncle Travis coming from down the hall. His old voice sounded like he was arguing with someone, but they didn’t hear anyone else replying.
“I hope he’s wearing something,” Auggie mumbled.
Jules snickered into his hand.
GUT came through the door and paused. June couldn’t take her eyes off of him. His spine was more curved than the last time she had seen him. Other than that, he still looked exactly the same.
Aunt Allison squeezed by him and headed for the opposite end of the table. Before she found her seat, the clock had already struck the first time.
“You’re in my seat,” GUT said to Uncle Tommy.
The clock struck again.
Tommy only gestured to the empty seat next to him.
“That’s my seat,” GUT said, pointing.
The clock struck.
GUT had to take his seat by the last chime, or he would be forced to leave—contractually forced to leave. June couldn’t imagine anyone actually shoving the old man through the door.
They were still at a standoff when the clock struck again.
“Let him have the seat,” Auggie said to Uncle Tommy.
June thought her heart would stop. She couldn’t imagine any of them telling Uncle Tommy what to do, and yet Auggie had done just that.
“Have a seat, Uncle Travis,” Allison said. Her order was punctuated by another chime.
June had lost track of how many times the clock had sounded. She couldn’t tell if it was slowing down or speeding up, but it definitely wasn’t going at a consistent pace.
They waited.
Finally, probably due to fatigue, GUT began to settle in the side chair. June thought that he had missed the deadline, but after his butt hit the seat, the clock sounded one more time.
Auggie looked down to Aunt Allison and the rest of the eyes followed his. While the golden note of the clock’s chime was still ringing off the walls, Allison said, “I call for a vote to rework the terms of the ceremony.”
“Second,” Auggie said before her mouth closed on the last syllable.
“No!” Uncle Tommy said.
Chapter 12 : Ceremony
“NO!” TOMMY SAID AGAIN.
“One vote for no,” Allison said. “All in favor?”
“Stop it,” Tommy shouted before they could vote. “You can’t call for a vote on anything while this man and that girl are sitting at the table.”
Tommy’s arms went out with fingers pointing at both Travis and June.
June shrank back from the gesture.
“What the hell are you talking about, Uncle Tommy?” Auggie asked. “Travis is a generation ahead of you. You can’t call him out.”
“He hasn’t been represented here for years. He can’t just reappear and stake a claim,” Tommy said.
Great Uncle Travis folded his arms and worked his jaw up and down, almost like he was chewing up what he had to say. If he did chew it, he didn’t manage to soften it at all.
“Fuck you, boy,” Travis said to Tommy.
“I bet you’d like that,” Tommy said.
“You think you can challenge my claim?” Travis asked. “You?”
Uncle Tommy jabbed the table with his finger as he spat words at Travis.
“I have been here every damn year since I was a boy. My claim is perfectly legitimate. You, on the other hand, haven’t been more than twic
e in the past decade.”
June searched her memory, trying to decide if that was accurate. She had stopped paying close attention to Travis’s attendance since his surgery had broken his streak. Tommy was probably right. He seemed to care more about rules than the rest of them combined.
“My claim is intact,” Travis said.
“What’s your problem with June?” Auggie asked, changing the subject. “She has had her son as her representative every year that she was absent. That’s all perfectly legal. He is her direct heir and he has sat right here, between me and Jules, never missing a single year.”
Tommy scowled at June and then at Gus. She felt weak under his gaze, but as soon as he turned his anger towards Gus, June felt her resolve stiffen. She sat up straight and glared until he looked back to her. He could question her presence all he liked, but there was no way that she was going to let him try to intimidate Gus.
“This is all irrelevant,” Allison said. “There’s a vote on the table. All in…”
She didn’t finish before Tommy slapped the table with both hands and stood up, shouting, “No! We will have no votes until Travis leaves.”
Nobody said a word. The only sound was Tommy’s heaving breath as anger rolled out of him in cold waves.
Great Uncle Travis began to giggle. His laugh collapsed into a cough and then returned, stronger than ever. Uncle Tommy puffed and panted. He was a cloud, gathering wind before he rained down on them with furious hail.
“What are you laughing about?” Tommy demanded of his uncle.
“I had a representative,” Travis said. “You just admitted it. My direct heir was here the entire time.”
“If you won’t leave on your own, you senile fruit salad,” Uncle Tommy said, tightening his massive hands into fists, “then I will throw you out myself. Say whatever prayers your black god will still hear.”
Tommy turned to Travis. June looked back and forth between her brothers. They were less than half of Tommy’s age, and there were two of them. Still, she doubted that they could have stopped Uncle Tommy. Even at eighty, the man had a barrel chest and muscled arms, covered in thick white hair. The world used to produce men who could tame the wilderness with their bare hands—Tommy was a throwback to one of those.
Travis stopped Uncle Tommy with one sentence. “When I was sixteen, I fucked Mumma Peggy.”
While Tommy swayed on his feet, Travis hit him with another thought.
“You’re the bastard son of a senile, incestuous rapist. You’ve been my representative this entire time.”
Uncle Tommy panted harder and harder. Red lines flared on his neck with his pulse. June thought that his head might explode, bathing them all in Uncle Tommy’s cold, acidic blood. He reached forward towards Travis, one hand clenching and flaring, and then he started to sink. His knees gave out and Uncle Tommy spilled backwards, splashing into his chair.
“That’s bullshit, Uncle Travis,” Allison said. Her voice was low and calm. She sighed and shook her head. “First of all, you had just turned sixteen when Tommy was born. Second, Mumma Peggy took me down to Portland when Tommy’s real father was in the hospital. He looked just like Tommy. Third, aren’t you type B? Mumma Peggy was type O, and if I’m not mistaken, I think Tommy is A or AB, right?”
Tommy turned to her. His jaw was still slack and his breath tore in and out through his mouth.
“So he can’t be your son,” Allison said. “He made it up, Tommy. Don’t listen to him.”
June looked over to Auggie. She had no idea which one of them was lying—Allison or Travis. They were both too good at fabrication when the opportunity presented itself.
Auggie’s brow was furrowed. He looked angry at Allison. It took June a second to figure out why. For a moment, GUT had de-fanged Uncle Tommy and then Allison had immediately breathed life back into Tommy’s objection.
Travis continued to giggle.
“Listen,” Auggie said, trying to wrangle control of the ceremony again, “the long and the short of it is, Travis is here, Uncle Tommy is here, we’re all here. Proving parentage and reviewing the attendance of previous ceremonies is not part of our charter. Allison called a vote. Who is in favor of reworking the terms of the ceremony?”
“I am,” Jules said.
“I vote yes,” Deidra said.
Auggie pointed to Great Uncle Travis.
“Yes, of course,” Travis said between giggling. He moved one hand away from his own crotch in order to point at Tommy. “Anything to fuck this one over.”
“I seconded the motion, but just for the record, I vote yes,” Auggie said.
Auggie pointed at Uncle Tommy.
“Your vote? For the record?”
“No,” Tommy said. His voice was gruff, but it had no power. June couldn’t tell if Tommy was dying or if maybe they were just in the eye of his hurricane. The thought occurred to June again—they should have all run when they had the chance.
“June?” Auggie asked.
She opened her mouth but no words came out.
# # # #
“June, we’re five to one. With your vote, we’ll overrule Uncle Tommy’s objection,” Auggie said.
He didn’t have to remind her. Maybe he was just stating it so Tommy would understand that he had been defeated. It was possible that Travis didn’t have a say in the matter. Uncle Tommy was probably right about that. But if everyone else took Travis’s side, then Tommy would have to challenge them legally, and that wouldn’t happen until everyone dug out of the snow and got their lawyers on the phone. Where would Tommy get money for a lawyer anyway? When it came down to it, the contract of their ceremony was more about trust than anything else.
All laws were like that, June realized. There was nothing more than the threat of retribution and the shame of public scrutiny. Those were the only things that kept most people in line.
Tommy voted no.
Everyone else had voted yes.
This was the first time that June had attended the ceremony in years, and with the clarity of that distance, she was able to understand it, fully, for the first time.
“June?”
“No,” she said.
“Pardon?” Auggie asked.
Everyone was looking at her except Uncle Tommy. She didn’t have to look around the room to feel their scrutiny. Even her son, Gus, was completely focused on what she would say next. And it wasn’t just the people in the room—she felt the entire house waiting on her next words. Uncle Tommy was the only one who wasn’t staring at her. He was focused straight down, like the real answer would come from the woodgrain.
June rose up out of her chair. She felt Auggie’s hand on her arm. It was like he was trying to hold her down, but June stood up, strong.
“No, we’re not going to renegotiate the terms. I’m Mumma Jay,” she said.
Uncle Tommy finally looked up at her.
Chapter 13 : Kate
THE KIDS ALL SAT perfectly still, focused on the little TV.
“Three, two, one!”
The moment that the ball lit up, they all blew their horns and cheered. Isla hugged Penny and then Penny hugged Millie. Sam jumped up and did a little dance while Millie clapped.
Henry put an arm around Kate and then gave her a peck on the cheek.
“Happy New Year,” Kate said.
He smiled.
“Okay, monsters, let’s get going. I want everyone in bed, tucked in tight before the last of the confetti settles,” Henry said.
Kate pointed the remote and snapped off the television. Sam and Penny were both dancing now, even though there was no music. Henry raised his voice and repeated his command. He didn’t seem to realize that the more energy he put into trying to move them towards bed, the more energy the kids had to resist him.
Kate glanced over at the stairs.
“Actually, since we don’t know how hectic everything will be in the morning, I was hoping we could measure the kids tonight?” Kate asked Henry.
He raised his eyebr
ows and seemed surprised by the idea.
“Yeah! Can we, Dad?” Penny asked.
“I hadn’t thought of it,” Henry said.
Kate looked at her girls. Millie’s eyes were already drooping, but Isla looked up for an adventure. She was almost always up for an adventure.
“Right now, though?” Henry asked.
“Sure,” Kate said. “It will only take a minute.”
When she stood up, Sam and Penny really latched onto the idea. Isla and Millie got up and joined their cousins and the four kids began running for the stairs.
“Okay,” Henry said, resigned.
Kate touched the key through her pants as they walked after the kids.
She leaned close to Henry. “Auggie asked me to check on something upstairs when I had a chance. After we’re done, would you mind bringing the girls back down while I do that?”
“Sure thing,” Henry said.
# # # #
“Okay, where is it?” Kate asked. She stepped down to the level of the wing hall and ran her fingers across a door. Brushing the knob, she verified that it was locked. She was pretty sure that it was the door to Tommy’s room. She would know for sure if Auggie’s key fit the lock.
“It’s over here, Aunt Kate,” Penny said, pointing.
Henry got there first. Leaning in and squinting, he asked, “Who is Missla?”
“No, it says Millie here, and Isla here,” Millie said. “She was the same height last year as I was three years ago, see?”
“Nuh-uh,” Isla said. “It was two years ago.”
“Three.”
“Two.”
Kate held back. She wanted the girls to get better at resolving their conflicts themselves. On little skirmishes like this, she figured it was best to let them reach their own conclusion. Isla gave in this time, but not until her cousin elbowed her and whispered something. Penny and Isla shared a secret and smiled about it.