“We were.” He shook his head quickly. “I mean, we are.”
“I’ve never seen you act this way, and I’ve known you since you were four. You were never the little shit you are now, even when we were teens.” Tommy sat his beer on the table.
“I know. It’s just—" He thought for a moment. “I had forgotten how hard it is to be a teenager—having to fit in and be cool, the peer pressure.” He looked up. “I haven’t told anyone this, but I’m having problems controlling my emotions. I say and do stupid things without thinking about the consequences of my actions. The adult in me knows it’s wrong, but it’s like I can’t stop myself.”
“Yeah. Kathy and I realized that the night you came home drunk after I specifically asked you to be the adult for Corbin’s sake.” Tommy picked up his beer.
Brandon hung his head in shame. “I’m sorry about that.”
“You were a dumbass.” Tommy took a sip.
“I know it, and I’m really sorry.” Brandon apologized again. “I’m begging you, Tom, please let me stay. I promise I’ll do better.”
Tommy looked at his best friend and began thinking about what Kathy had said about their relationship changing. He then decided to be stern but fair.
“Okay, Brandon. You can stay,” Brandon’s face lifted, “but those days of you doing whatever the hell you want to do are over. There will be rules. You understand?”
Brandon nodded.
“And if you break the rules there will be consequences. Kathy and I are doing this because we care about you, Brand.”
Tommy sighed. “Look, bud. I’m an easy-going guy. You treat us fair, and we’ll treat you fair. Capisce?”
“Capisce.” The corners of Brandon’s mouth lifted.
“And the first rule is that you will have passing grades in all your classes, meaning you’re going to get off of your rebellious teenage ass and pass that damn computer course.” He pointed. “Got it?”
“Got it.” Brandon nodded.
“Good.” Tommy finished off his beer.
Brandon studied him for a second. “Am I supposed to call you ‘Dad’ now?” Brandon teased.
“’Your Majesty’ is fine.” Tommy grinned.
“You always did have delusions of grandeur.” Brandon smiled.
“Screw you. Now run along and play with your little friends.” Tommy waved him off.
Brandon stood up to move towards the door before Tommy stopped him. “Oh, and apologize to Kath for your shit behavior.”
“Yes, Your Majesty.” Brandon turned and grinned before running inside.
After apologizing to Kathy, Brandon felt better about himself. He ran to the end of the hall and stopped at the sound of laughter. Curious, he grabbed the doorknob and eased the door open a smidge and peered through the crack. Cam and Corbin were hovered around Cam’s phone watching something that was obviously very funny.
“Dude! This show is hilarious.” Cam laughed.
“I can’t believe you’ve never seen Little Britain.” Corbin leaned in closer to the phone. “I’d watch it with your dad sometimes when we got tired of watching Doctor Who.”
“Dad always liked this British stuff.” Cam shot his eyes towards Corbin. “You and Dad hung out a lot, didn’t you?”
Corbin shrugged. “Not a whole lot, maybe once every couple of months we’d binge watch Doctor Who on a Saturday. I mean, he and I liked a lot of the same sci-fi shows.”
“Yeah.” Cam looked pensive. “I wish we’d had more in common. I think that was part of our problem.”
“Sorry, dude,” Corbin said.
“Eh.” He shrugged sadly. “It’s too late now.”
Brandon hung his head, wanting nothing more than to rush in and tell him it wasn’t too late, but that would ruin everything. Cam was now his friend, maybe not his best friend, but seeing him getting along with Corbin made the whole idea of revealing himself too risky.
“Hey, guys.” Brandon walked in, pretending not to have been eavesdropping. “What are y’all doing?”
“Corbin is showing me Little Britain. This show is fucking hilarious!” Cam looked back over his shoulder at Brandon.
“Oh. Pull up the Mr. Doggie one.” Brandon rushed over and sat down beside them.
Corbin looked at him. “Everything okay with your Uncle Tommy?”
“Oh…yeah. It was nothing.” Brandon decided to tell Corbin later.
“Cool.” Corbin nodded as Cam found the Mr. Doggie skit.
Chapter Eight
On a rainy Saturday evening, Brandon and Cam sat on the floor of Cam’s bedroom, playing a classic game of Uno. Most of the day, Brandon had been lying on the sofa watching television. Corbin had gone on a weekend religious retreat with his parents, leaving Brandon completely bored out of his mind. As an adult, Brandon would spend his weekends working, going to the gym, attempting to spend time with Cam, and doing general household chores. Experiencing the teenage right-of-passage of bumming around the house in his underwear, binging on Lay’s Potato Chips and drinking Coke from a two-liter bottle, was not his idea of a fun Saturday. So, when Cam texted him to come hang out at his house, he practically leapt from the sofa.
“Dude, I’m surprised you texted me. I figured you’d have something going on tonight.” Brandon shuffled the deck.
“Nah. Not really. Cam watched as Brandon bridged the cards, watching with fascination as the two stacks mixed into one large one. “Logan’s gone to his cousin’s wedding in Albuquerque, and I didn’t have much else to do.”
Cam took a sip of his Red Bull.
“Corb’s gone this weekend, too, and I’ve been bored out of my mind.” Brandon started dealing. “I can’t believe you like Uno. It’s such an old game.”
“My dad and I used to play it when I was little on rainy days like this.” Cam picked up his stack of cards. “He used to like it ‘cause he could beat me at it. I always stomped him when it came to video games.”
“I love Uno! Such a simple game, unlike Zombie Apocalypse.” Brandon grabbed his deck and turned up the first card on the discard pile, recalling the rainy days playing with Cam at the kitchen table.
“Definitely less violent.” Cam joked.
Seeing that his son was feeling a little nostalgic, Brandon decided to test the waters and see if his son would open up a little more now that it was pretty much established that he and Cam were pals.
“Do you ever wish you and your dad had worked things out?” Brandon arranged his cards by color.
“All the time.” Cam laid down a red Three.
“I didn’t know. The way you talk, I mean, he kind of ignored you.” Brandon hated to admit the fact but wanted Cam to open up.
“I don’t know.” Cam shrugged. “Dad had problems. He just let them overwhelm him. He was a great dad when I was little. We’d go camping and hiking and stuff like that. I miss that Dad.” He laid down a red Reverse.
Brandon started feeling a little emotional as he recalled him and Cam going up to Patagonia Lake and staying in Tommy’s cabin, fishing, and hiking.
“I’ll tell you something I’ve never told anyone about my Dad.” Cam laid down a Draw Four.
“What’s that?” Brandon took four cards from the top of the pile.
“I think my dad was gay like you,” Cam said evenly.
“What makes you think that?” Brandon’s asked calmly, although he was about to jump out of his skin.
“I’d sometimes catch him checking out guys. One time I borrowed his laptop for a book report and pulled up the web browser. I guess he forgot to clear the history. I started typing in a URL, and all these gay porn site addresses popped up.” Cam played a red Reverse card. “I think that was why he was so miserable. He was living a lie.”
“Why would he live a lie and not just come out?” Brandon tried to be circumspect.
“Honestly, dude, I’m not really sure. I wouldn’t have cared. The only person that would have given him shit about it would have been my Grandpa Daniels, but he’s
just a dick.” Cam shrugged.
Brandon laughed inside at Cam’s accurate assessment of his father.
“I don’t know, dude.” Cam continued. “I just wish he had come out. At least then maybe he wouldn’t have been so miserable, and he might not have killed himself.”
Brandon felt sadness wash over him. Although he pulled off his fake suicide, hearing Cam say it, and knowing he was within seconds of taking his own life, filled him with regret.
Brandon looked at him, trying to control his emotions, but his eyes betrayed him. “I’m sorry, man.”
“Eh. It’s too late now.” Cam shrugged, laid his cards down, and looked up at Brandon, his eyes widening. “Dude. Are you about to cry?”
“Yeah. Kinda.” Brandon tried to pull himself together, formulating a lie on the spot to provide a cover for his emotions. “I lost my father too, but he skipped out, but we had some good times. Just reminded me of those.”
“From what you told me, you had kind of shitty childhood.”
“It wasn’t easy,” Brandon admitted.
Neither he nor the real Channing had an ideal childhood. Interrupting their moment, a voice boomed from the living room.
“Goddamnit, Cam! I told you to quit putting your football shit in the doorway. I nearly broke my neck!” Lance screamed, sounding more than pissed off.
“Why do you think I put it there?” Cam said nonchalantly, and picked up his hand again, breaking the emotional tension.
Brandon started laughing as he lifted the shirttail of his tank and wiped his eyes. Cam chuckled.
“Are you staying for dinner? I’m sure it’s pizza again.” He asked as Brandon as they resumed their game.
“I guess.” Brandon felt in the pocket of his cargo shorts, readying his plan to rid Cam of Lance once and for all.
“Cool. Mom says we’re eating at the dining table tonight. She’s calling it a ‘Family Night.’ ‘Family Night.’ What a crock of shit.” Cam scoffed.
Later that evening, Brandon sat at the formal dining table across from Cam. He looked down at the formal place setting arranged neatly in front of him and thought about the ridiculousness of it. Glancing to his left, he rolled his eyes at a stoned Lance, who was playing with his silverware like a bored five-year-old. On the opposite end, sat a middle-aged has-been carefully unfolding her napkin, and placing it ever so delicately in her lap. Brandon jumped when she accidentally bumped her tumbler of alcohol, causing some of her precious elixir to spill on to the white laced table cloth.
“Lance.” Marcia snapped. “Quit playing with your fork!”
Lance immediately put his fork down as if he had been slapped on the hand.
“Pizza! Wow! Thanks, Mom.” Cam stated sarcastically as he reached for the pizza box that was marked ‘Supreme.’
“Be thankful your mother provides for you.” Lance sat up straight like a big boy.
“Shut up, Lance.” Cam scolded. “No one cares what you have to say.”
Lance scowled and stuffed an entire slice of pepperoni into his mouth.
“Mmmm…” He moaned as if it were the most delicious thing he’d ever tasted.
“Idiot,” Brandon mumbled as he accepted the pizza box from Cam.
Marcia sat with an empty plate, occasionally sipping her rum and Coke as her eyes focused on Brandon, her face looking as though she was remembering an old acquaintance, but not quite able to figure out where she knew him from.
Brandon could feel her eyes boring straight through him, making him squirm.
“Mom!” Cam followed his mother’s eyes. “Quit staring at Channing!”
“Are you related to the Daniels Family back in Georgia?” She ignored her son, keeping her eyes on Brandon.
“I’m from a small town, everyone’s related,” Brandon answered as he piled four slices of Ariana’s on his plate.
“You look so much like my ex-husband. Are you sure you two aren’t related?” She asked as Cam slid the pepperoni box to her.
“You wook awike.” Lance tried to speak with his mouth full, his eyes darting between Cam and Brandon.
“Lance, you wouldn’t know your ass from a hole in the ground.” Cam turned his head towards him.
“You gaw a smaat mouth.” Lance pointed and swallowed.
“Douchebag.” Cam sneered.
“I wish you two would get along.” Marcia guzzled down her cocktail.
“That’ll never happen.” Cam laughed as he wiped his mouth on his lace red dinner napkin.
A few moments passed before Marcia began staring at Brandon again.
“Mother!” Cam yelled again. “Quit staring at Channing! Damn!”
“Okay. Okay.” Marcia grabbed the bottle of rum and the canned Coke that sat next to her plate and mixed another rum and Coke in her tumbler. Brandon noted it was three-quarters rum and one-quarter cola.
“Sorry, man.” Cam apologized to Brandon.
“It’s okay.” Brandon tried to focus on anything but Marcia, his eyes finally landing on the painting of the Virgin Mary hanging above the buffet.
The irony made him want to vomit.
“Oh.” Lance raised his index finger like he had something very important to say. “Your lawyer called today about your loser ex-husband’s estate. He said the lawsuit has been filed.”
“What lawsuit?” Brandon looked to Cam for the answer, but Marcia jumped in, always eager to broadcast her woes to anyone who would listen.
“His sorry-ass employer won’t pay his life insurance policy that’s due me,” Marcia said.
“Wait.” Brandon furrowed his brow. “That insurance policy goes to Cam.”
“And how would you know that?” Marcia asked, suspiciously.
“Uncle Tommy told me.” Brandon didn’t miss a beat, learning that using Tommy’s name as the source of his inside information regarding the Daniels family’s affairs always calmed suspicions.
“Your Uncle Tommy needs to mind his own business. The policy wasn’t signed properly after our divorce making Cam the beneficiary, so by right, it’s mine. Besides,” She glanced at her son, “Cam’s gonna be rich from the other policies anyway. I deserve something from that bastard for putting up with his shit all those years.”
She stirred her drink with her index finger, stuck it in her mouth, and smacked her lips.
“Bitch,” Brandon mumbled. “I’ll take care of that.”
“Don’t call him a bastard!” Cam turned his head and yelled at his mother.
“I need some money for some more smoke.” Lance interrupted once again.
“How much this time?” Marcia focused her attention on her lover as if this were an everyday occurrence.
“I owe Tony five-hundred.” He stared stoned-faced at Marcia
“Take it from the money jar in the kitchen.” Marcia finally took a bite of her food.
Lance looked at Cam and smirked.
“Wait!” Cam interjected. “That for my ski trip in February!”
“This is more important. You know what Tony did to Lance last time.” Marcia said, choking a little on her pizza before clearing her throat.
“Who gives a fuck? Let him beat the shit out of him.” Cam slammed his Coke can down on the table.
“I’m gonna beat the shit out of you.” Lance pointed at him again.
“Go to Hell, Lance!” Cam screamed.
Brandon had heard enough. He had to make his move and looked for a way to lure Lance away from the table, but as luck would have it, Lance made it easy.
“You’re lucky I got to feed Candy, or I’d wipe the floor with you.” Lance got up from the table and walked towards the back door.
Cam continued arguing with Marcia over the ski trip money while Brandon focused on his plan. He reached under the table and into his pocket. Pulling a small brown medicine bottle from it, he loosened the lid slightly before returning it to his pocket and rose from the table.
“I need to call Uncle Tommy and let him know I’ll be home later than I thought. I’ll b
e right back.” He said.
Marcia and Cam weren’t listening and continued arguing, while Brandon stepped away from the table and made his way down the hall. Bypassing Cam’s room, he headed straight to Marcia’s bedroom, where he knew there was a door to the backyard. Sliding the glass door open onto the lanai, he slipped outside and around the corner, until he saw the wooden storage shed that resembled a small country cottage. From a distance, he could see Lance through the window with a large snake in his arms. Quietly, Brandon pulled a glove out of his back pocket and slipped it on, grinning at the snap at his wrist as he continued towards the shed.
Brandon crept across the lawn to the shed door, stopping just outside of it. He reached for the handle, trying to decide if he should be discrete and slip in quietly, or just burst through the door, guns-a-blazing. He figured that if this plan stood a chance of working, he was going to have to put on a very convincing show. Standing back from the door, he slipped the bottle from his pocket into his left hand and reached for the knob. Turning it, he kicked the door open with his left foot with as much strength as he could muster. The door flew back, slamming against the doorstop with a loud bang, rattling every window pane in the building.
“What the hell?” Lance yelled as the snake coiled around his arm.
Brandon pointed at him, full of confidence. “You’re going to pack your shit and leave this house tonight.”
Lance seemed startled for a moment before responding.
“Who the fuck do you think you are, kid?” He laughed, moving his right arm so as not to allow the snake to wind more than one loop around it.
“Let’s just say I know all about you and Marcia.” Brandon smiled.
“Get out of here, you little bastard.” Lance took a step towards him.
Brandon stood his ground.
“So, has Marcia explained how she got Sylvester and Tweety?” Brandon pointed to his right butt cheek then his left.
Lance stopped, and his eyes widened. “How do you know about that?”
“Oh, I know lots of things, Lance.”
He recalled the story, as told by Marcia, of her and her best friend Kendra getting impulse tattoos together one night when they were drunk in college.
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