Yield

by Johnson, Bryan K.

  “Stop!” the boy screams. But his dad just continues the vicious attack.

  “Don’t you get enough of that at work?” Katherine asks her firefighter as they loudly enter the kitchen.

  “But they’re never this light, love,” Devin says. He lowers his gasping son to the floor. “I always get the big ones. The old, hairy, big ones.”

  “That better be all you get,” Katherine snaps, her eyebrow shooting up. She stops spreading the cream cheese on her bagel and points the butter knife ominously at him. “I don’t want to hear about you carrying any other pretty blonds out of burning buildings, Mr. Bane.”

  “Absolutely not, hon,” he says with a straight face. “I’ll just let them burn.”

  “Good,” she answers. “There’ll be fewer jokes.” Her own blond hair sparkles mischievously. The morning sunlight filters through the kitchen window, brilliantly illuminating the curving perfection of her face.

  The fireman bites one of his knuckles, tracing the shadows caught strategically along his wife’s shirt. He sighs, wishing yet again he had more time to attend to his marital duties.

  Responsibility overcoming temptation, Devin turns back to his son. The fireman’s shoulders are slumped like a broken animal. “Time to check your numbers, Ty.”

  Tyler sits on a stool beside his sister at the kitchen island. His dull eyes are lost in the flashing imagery of the television set. The boy’s left hand is up protectively to shield his eyes from the obnoxious innuendos of his parents.

  “Dad,” Tyler pleads. Reluctantly, he puts his bagel down on the paper towel, wishing he could break the chains for just one day.

  “Let me see,” Devin orders. He holds his hand out expectantly.

  “Fine,” Tyler snaps, taking the blood-glucose tester from his dad. “I’ll do it.” The eight-year-old winces as the needle pops into his small index finger. A droplet of life instantly pulses from his skin. The LCD counts down slowly from five. Black dot matrix bubbles stop and blink at 75. “See? It’s fine,” he shows. The boy tosses the testing unit onto the counter, as if even holding it would show his weakness to the world.

  Devin glances at it quickly before eying the clock beside Tyler. “Damn, is it past seven already?” He turns to Katherine. “I gotta get in the shower, love. Can we be ready to leave in twenty minutes?”

  “Why not?” she smiles, wanting to say it normally takes at least twice that.

  Devin walks briskly back toward the bedroom. “Your blood sugar’s a little low, bud,” he shouts. “Make sure to have the nurse check it again at school before lunch. And eat your bagel!” The fireman turns and starts running full throttle up the stairs again.

  “I’m not hungry,” Tyler grumbles. The boy tears off small pieces of the specially-sweetened wheat bagel and scatters the dissected crumbs all across the paper towel. Fragments of the bread just small enough to appease a glancing parent soon cover it.

  Haley shakes her head, looking condescendingly down at the mess in front of her younger brother. “And they think I’m difficult.”

  Chapter 4

  7:40 A.M.

  The Bane family crams into their cluttered silver minivan, tossing bags and attitudes at one another. Katherine begins down their driveway even before the reassuring clicks of seatbelts are heard. Older brick houses and lush lawns pass as they make their way through the picket-fenced neighborhood. The van’s stainless steel Christian fish symbol sparkles from the back lift gate, just to the right of its white and evergreen Oregon plate. Even in the rain, the crisp, metallic-flecked vehicle sparkles. Washed methodically by Devin during one of his weekly maintenance rituals, he finds the scrubbing a welcome distraction to the hectic normality of life.

  Katherine cranks the wheel hard to the left. She heads down another indistinguishable street within the suburban jungle 10 miles south of Portland, zooming by cookie-cutter houses and well-groomed landscapes.

  Traffic is light, except around the dozens of crosswalks and intersections they pass. Webs of bus stops interconnect the streets. Young kids walk under bleak Northwest skies, perfectly content as they cling to hands or skip with friends through the irresistible splash of mud puddles. The rain has let up slightly, but brilliant umbrellas and colorful hoods still dot the darkened sidewalks.

  Devin looks nostalgically out the passenger window at all the well-mannered children moving by, wondering whatever happened to the innocence in his own. “I don’t care if it’s just a movie,” Devin says. He watches the better years zoom past outside. “I still need to know who you’re going with.”

  “Friends,” Haley mutters. Her electric blue eyes flicker at another unrelenting barrage from the Fuhrer.

  “Names, Haley,” Katherine gently mediates.

  “Need social security numbers, too?” The teenager snatches her royal blue backpack off the bench seat, throwing it into her lap. She rummages through it while her dazed mind thinks.

  “No,” Devin says. His jaw tightens at the tug of war. “Just names, Haley.”

  “Amy and Rebecca,” she shouts. “God!” The 15-year-old spins up her dark brown lipstick and rubs the deep color onto her lips. The pale skin tone of her face looks almost white against the rich chocolate color.

  “And your boyfriend,” Tyler whispers. His eyes go wide when he realizes he said it aloud.

  Haley turns on him in a split-second and violently slams her fist down into his thigh.

  “Ow,” Tyler winces as the sharp pain shoots up his body. The eight-year-old’s eyes slowly begin to fill with tears. His leg throbs. Tyler grits his teeth, willing himself not to be weak, not to let his sister see him cry.

  “Boyfriend? Another one?!” Devin asks sharply. The fireman spins in his seat, looking squarely at his daughter. “And when were you going to let your mother and me in on this little detail?”

  Haley locks eyes with her brother. Rage at his vindictive outburst fills the van. It pulses in savage waves from the teenager’s eyes. You’re lucky we’re not alone.

  Fear and pain look sadly back at her. The memories of spontaneously imagined games fill Tyler’s mind. Teaming up against dragons under blanketed banners or eagerly exploring the universe’s limitless potential, the joy of being included in her world has all but faded away now. Instead, it’s replaced with the throbbing injuries from the latest outburst of violence. What happened to you?

  Tyler looks away from the angry stranger sitting next to him, staring out the van’s window in search of friendlier company. The boy roughly wipes away the tears as they pass another group of children about his age.

  “I already told Mom,” Haley smiles maliciously.

  “Now, now,” Katherine backpedals. “There’s no need to bring me into this.”

  “Really,” Devin booms. He looks incredulously over at his wife. “It’s nice to know I’m still in the loop, love. Thanks. United front and all, right?”

  “You were so focused on this interview,” Kat says. She feels his green eyes pierce into her. Staring straight ahead, a twinge of guilt plays across her face. “I just wanted to wait until you got back. That’s all.”

  “So sorry to interrupt happy time, but we’re here,” Haley blurts. The van begins to slow along the school’s curb. She climbs over her brother on the way to the door, opening it before the van is even stopped. She slings her patch-covered blue backpack over one shoulder and jumps out onto the sidewalk. Her feet scream at her to run.

  “Hold on!” Devin barks, irritated at what’s become of his American dream. “We’re not done yet.”

  The teenager skids to a stop. She closes her eyes, sighing at the inconvenience. What now? The pink streaks in her hair almost spark as she tries to quiet her growing rage.

  Devin opens the passenger door and grabs the other blue backpack. He holds it out to Tyler, trying helpfully to put it over his son’s shoulder.

  “I’ve got it,” the boy says irritably. He snatches it away from his dad, turning without another word. Tyler adjusts the bag’s weigh
t and limps toward his school.

  “Love you too, bud,” Devin calls hollowly. “See you tonight.” His shield of humor barely masks the pain. Devin watches on with a consuming sadness as the children he’s raised, the kids he’s sacrificed everything else in his life for—provided for, loved, and given the best he could to for so many years—continue to push him methodically away. It eats through his body with an exhaustive wrath.

  Haley smacks the back of her brother’s head as he passes. The unexpected shot sends him stumbling forward several steps before the boy can regain his balance.

  “Hey!” Devin snaps. His sharp anger instantly pushes the feelings of helplessness away. “Don’t you blame your brother for this. You should have talked to me, Haley.”

  “It’s no big deal.”

  “Well, it will be until I meet this tosser. You’re fifteen,” Devin stresses. “I need to know who you’re hanging around with. Especially when it’s some bloke with intentions toward my daughter.”

  “His name,” Haley interrupts, “is Brandt.”

  “I really don’t give a blooming rip!” Devin says. “You’re not going out with him until he nuts up and has a little chat with me. Alright?”

  She grits her teeth. Haley’s electric eyes squint down at the scuffed Doc Martens on her feet, her rebellious confidence simmering. “Why? So you can just scare him off?”

  “Maybe. That’s up to him.”

  Haley turns and sees her friends waiting for her by the school entrance. Dozens of eyes stare back at her public lashing. Focusing the rage and words she’s wanted to say for so long, she glares defiantly at her father. “You get fired from your job for being a drunk, and suddenly you’re interested in my life? You’re gone four days a week, Dad. As long as I can even remember! Stop overcompensating for that by actually trying to be a parent now! You’re right. I am fifteen,” she says, lowering her shaking voice. “And you’ve never been very good at it.”

  She spins and walks away, her flickering blue eyes seeking the solace of her friends.

  “Haley!”

  The teenager obediently slows. She revolves curtly back to her father. “You’re going to be late,” she says, tapping her watch.

  As he looks back at his little girl, a confused mixture of anger and pain fill Devin’s emerald eyes. He tries to muster the power and authority within his once-proud voice. But he finds no strength. “When did you turn into such a bitch?”

  “Oh, I’ve had great role models, Dad. You’d be amazed what I’ve learned.” She smiles wickedly back at him.

  His watch thankfully beeps out, breaking the uncomfortable silence across the school yard. 7:45. “This isn’t finished.”

  “Yes, sir,” Haley salutes. “Permission to leave?” Haley’s friends cluster around her, trying to stifle their laughter.

  Devin storms back to the silver minivan. “You’re grounded until I come home tonight,” he yells out the open window.

  “Can’t wait,” she mutters. Congratulating the teenage victory, the pack of invincibles continue up the steps to Columbia Academy School.

  Haley’s mom beeps the horn twice in parting. The teenager flips her hand up and waves back mockingly. “Whatever,” she says, wondering if she were adopted.

  Chapter 5

  7:48 a.m.

  Countless on-ramps spew impatience onto an already congested interstate. Tiered lanes of eager drivers slow as they move through waves of rain.

  Katherine navigates her speeding van through traffic along I-5 on the way to Portland International Airport. Pushing down her all-too-familiar fear of conflict, Kat sighs. Playing arbitrator between two of the most important people in her life is taxing even on the best of days, let alone while trying to make up time.

  “When did you tell her I got fired?” Devin asks. The disgraced fireman sits silently fuming. Metal status symbols swarm like bees all around them. Drivers hungry for an advantage seize their moments quickly, no matter the size or cost. Devin always hated driving into the city.

  “They’re smart kids,” Katherine gently says. “There was no way we were going to be able to keep it a secret.”

  The driver alongside them slams his horn after a merging semi-truck cuts him off. The offended driver gestures angrily through his windshield. The expression makes Devin even more agitated.

  “I’ll talk to her,” Katherine says, reassuringly taking his hand.

  “I can’t even have a conversation with her anymore,” he says. Devin turns expectantly to his wife for agreement. “Not without wanting to strangle her damn neck.”

  “It’s called puberty, Devin. They can’t stay kids forever.”

  “I know,” he sighs. “It just seemed to hit in a hurry.” He looks back out at the wet landscape. Grass along the freeway is a vibrant green, the trees lush and plentiful as they grow oblivious to humanity’s fears. “She went from zero to rebellious in a summer. When did we lose control?”

  Katherine squeezes her husband’s hand. A restrained smile creases the edges of her mouth. “Do you honestly think we ever had it?”

  “Well…some,” he stammers. “More than now, anyways.”

  As they pass the white-lettered, green sign for PDX, Katherine signals and changes into the right-hand lane. An errant puddle hiding in the deep grooves catches her tires. “She is right, you know,” Kat says softly. Her shoulders tighten, trying to steady the hydroplaning tires.

  She sees her husband’s head turn sharply in implied objection. “When you sleep at the station for four nights a week and are on call for the other three, they don’t exactly get much time with you.”

  “You heard all that, huh?” Devin says. “Thanks for jumping in.” He stares accusingly back at her. “Well, if money didn’t exist, I’d be a much happier bloke, too. But the world just doesn’t work that way, love.”

  Her quiet voice rises impulsively to defend her children. “They don’t see it like that. All our kids see is an empty chair at the dinner table and Dad never home. Explanations are just excuses to them.”

  Locking his jaw, Devin turns and scans the roadway for something else to talk about. He’s become much more perceptive of her various tones over their 16 years of marriage. This particular one never ended well for him.

  The knot in his stomach tightens as they inch closer to PDX. Pre-interview doubts and apprehension have rippled through Devin’s mind before, but never like this. I have to get this job, he suddenly realizes. The dread of failure shoots across his body.

  Idyllic postcards full of sun-peppered skyscrapers begin to pan through his nervous mind. We can start over there. We have to… He nods to himself, trying to turn his doubt into a rallying cry. Just keep it together and get through this.

  “I’ll have better hours if I get this job,” he finally says. Forced optimism toward their new life twinkles in his emerald eyes. Mistakes and guilt fade like candlelight at the end of a darkening tunnel. “Weekends. Evenings. We can finally take that trip to Disneyland the kids have always wanted.”

  Katherine looks over at him, trying to tell if he’s joking. “Yeah. When Haley was ten.” Blinded hope clouds her husband’s face. She should have been used to that by now. She did marry a firefighter. But this was more than just hope. It was almost ignorance.

  “What?” Devin defends. “Fifteen-year-olds don’t like theme parks?”

  “Not with their parents,” Katherine laughs. They slow to 20mph as she pilots through the twisting laps encircling Portland International Airport. “Northwest, right?”

  “Yeah.”

  She pulls to a stop in front of the airline’s busy unloading area. Bags and bodies move all around. The sharp cry of traffic officers echoes back from the arched metal overhangs. Their whistles impose harsh order upon the pedestrians and cars moving through the airport.

  “Put in a good word for me,” Devin pleads. His grip hesitates on the cold, silver door handle.

  “Somewhere,” Kat says, putting a hand lovingly up to her husband’s face, �
��way deep down, I think, she knows you’re not that bad. At least for an Englishman, that is.”

  “Thanks, love,” he laughs. Devin’s breath catches as he looks back at his wife’s smiling face. The sunlight glitters through the windows into her rippled blond hair. Almost uncontrollably, his body leans forward to kiss her, his lips lingering longer than usual against hers. Reassurance draws from her as their skin meets. The swirling fears that race through Devin’s mind begin to slow.

  “See you tonight,” he says, pulling the handle and opening the door to uncertainty. He leans out and stretches his solid frame. Devin smooths down the front of his silver tie and buttons up the navy blue suit coat in preparation for a day of untold promise. With a confident swagger back in his step, the fireman strides toward the spinning panes inside PDX’s large, revolving glass entry. He pushes down the urge to take a final backward glance at the woman he loves. Gritting his teeth instead, he looks straight ahead as she merges out into the airport’s gathering traffic.

  Chapter 6

  7:52 a.m.

  Tracy Thomas’s candy-apple Boxster shoots in and out of frayed shadow edges, speeding under the dripping tips of Seattle’s skyline. Traffic is grid-locked on most of the downtown streets. Rain clouds continue to blanket the city. They beat down upon civilization with an awakening wrath.

  People walk quickly along the sidewalks. Umbrellas overhead, society huddles inside their pockets of security, gazing contemptuously at those without. Taxicabs and buses clog the streets. They intermittently stop for drenched customers before moving on into humanity’s assault.

  Children await a beckoning school bell from the brightly-colored jungle gym outside Shoreline Elementary. Rain traces the lines of a rusting fence just in front. Their hoods are pulled up to ward off the unrelenting drizzle, yet their laughter emanates happily through the storm.