“Yeah, I’ve been working for about a year, I guess. It’s easy going, the hours are flexible for school, and it helps me earn a bit,” Justin said, stumbling his way through the conversation.
“Well, we need to get going, but I’m sure I’ll be back again.” Cassie smiled, and Justin felt something inside of him melt. Or rather, he felt something that had long ago been broken was now fusing back together again.
Justin watched the girls leave, and felt a little giddy for a time after they left. He forgot about the soup cans, and instead stood by the register, lost in thought. It was fifteen minutes after the scheduled closing time that he finally snapped back into the real world, locked up the shop, and finished tidying away the items he had started to unpack.
It was pushing midnight by the time he got home, locking his bike away just as the lights of the car he shared with Declan pulled into the street.
He stood outside and waited for his brother. He watched the car pull into the street, and park almost in line with the curb. The engine idled for a while before Declan shut it off and stumbled out of the car. While not blind drunk, it was clear that he had had a few too many. Walking over to help him, Justin shook his head at his brother.
“You need to be careful drinking and driving. They are cracking down on that sort of thing.” Justin helped his brother to the door, where he sat down on the small porch step and pulled a cigarette out of his coat pocket.
“I know, bro, I know. But it was worth it,” Declan said with a drunken smile. He put the cigarette between his lips, lit it, and took a deep drag.
“I didn’t know you smoked.” Justin looked at his brother.
“I don’t. Not really. Just a couple when I have a drink. Makes it all taste way better.” Declan giggled and took another drag.
The brothers sat side by side, watching the night roll in. At some point, the church bell rang, a distant sound, signaling the arrival of the midnight hour. The world was quiet save for the tolling of the bell, and Justin felt as if could live in that quiet forever. Then his mind conjured up images of Cassie Martin, and his perspective changed.
Holding his tongue, not wanting to say anything stupid to his big brother, for while they shared a bond formed in the fires of suffering and abuse, a big brother remained such, and any opportunity away from home to tease a younger sibling could not be passed up.
“Let’s get to bed, I’m knackered,” Declan announced, pushing himself to his feet and flicking the third cigarette butt of their conversation to the floor.
Justin followed his brother inside, careful not to make any noise, moving slowly, closing the door, holding the latch to save it from clicking, a sound his father had claimed woke him on several occasions. He crept through the house, not needing the light to help guide him through the room, evading the furniture scattered about the living room, Justin followed his brother upstairs. While he was only a minute or two behind him, Declan was already snoring by the time Justin walked past his brother’s room on route to his own.
***
Declan woke with a jolt. Sunlight was streaming through the windows, and his head had a gentle ache. He could remember most things about the evening, including the fun he’d had with Annie, first in the back of the theatre, and then again once they ditched the others.
Another crashing sound, similar to that which had ripped him from sleep came from downstairs.
Declan was up on his feet in an instant, grabbing a pair of jeans flung over his desk chair, and was out of the door. He knew the sound of a fight when it was brewing in the house. He just hoped he wasn’t too late to stop things.
“You lying little shit. Don’t you lie to me,” Jackson Howland roared as he slammed his youngest son against the wall. His giant fists held Justin’s shirt in two large bunches, pulling it up and above his navel.
“I’m not lying,” Justin stammered, the tears flowing down his cheeks.
“No, of course fucking not. They just got there as if by magic,” Jackson spat, pulling his son away from the wall only to hurl him back into it again.
Justin groaned as the back of his head hit the living room wall, and for a moment, his world started to spin. He could feel his father’s rage pulsing deep within him, traveling through his arms like a wave, and jumping into Justin’s body.
“I don’t know how they got there, but I know they are not mine.” Justin had to force the words out as his father’s grip was also crushing his chest, making it hard to breathe.
“Bullshit. I can smell them on you. You fucking stink of those cancer sticks. You want to get cancer fine, but don’t you dare sully my house with their stench or your discarded junk.” Thick strands of spit flew from Jackson’s lips, covering Justin’s face. The old man’s eyes bulged in his head and the skin of his face and neck had turned a deep red shade, as the rage pressure continued to build.
“They were mine,” Declan shouted before his father had the chance to go any further with his abuse. “I smoked them.”
Jackson’s grip lessened slightly. Not letting Justin go, but releasing him enough so that he could breathe once more.
“You don’t need to lie for him anymore, son. This cancerous bastard isn’t worth the trouble.” Jackson looked at his eldest son to his youngest, his face scrunched up by hard years and hard booze, like that of a gargoyle etched into the stones of a cathedral.
“I’m not lying, Dad. They were mine,” Declan insisted, stepping forward towards the pair, reaching out with a trembling hand. While until now he had escaped all forms of wrath or abuse from his parents, the question was always lingering in the back of his mind. When will it be my turn?
Jackson took several deep, angry breaths, like a bull stuck in the stall, just waiting to be given the signal to raise merry hell.
“Listen to your father,” Peggy spoke up, appearing from the hallway, a tea towel in her hands. “Your brother needs to learn the rules. They are simple, and breaking them means punishment.”
Declan stepped back and looked at both his parents, in turn, the depths of their craziness becoming more and more evident to him. He opened his mouth to speak, but his mother beat him to it.
“Go on upstairs, let us deal with this. You’re both adults now, so it is time to learn to accept the consequences of your actions.” Peggy moved forward, standing between her sons, the cloth in her hand taut, as if ready to be used as a weapon at the slightest provocation.
Declan refused to move, but his mother was even more resilient. As his father turned his attention back to Justin, Peggy made her move, grabbing Declan by the arm and pulling him away, pushing him first into the hall, and then over to the stairs.
“Go upstairs now, before you need disciplining too.” It was the first time so much as a threat had been cast in his direction, and it chilled Declan to the marrow in his bones.
Declan hadn’t even reached halfway when he heard Justin cry out.
“Don’t you try and get physical with me, you ungrateful cunt,” Jackson’s voice boomed from within the living room, as a heavy thud followed swiftly thereafter.
Declan stopped and pivoted on the stairs, but his mother was still standing at the base, her face impassive, her arms folded over each other.
Once in his room, Declan kicked out at the desk chair, pain radiating through his body as his big toe bore the brunt of his frustration. He heard the cries coming from downstairs, and he sank to the floor beside his bed, placing his hands over his ears, hoping he could drown out the sound. His mind played him visions of the time his father had gotten drunk and beat Justin just because they were out of beer. The lashes he had given had cut through the flesh of Justin’s ass cheeks. It took almost a week before he left his room, the beating so severe it left him unable to walk or lay any other way than on his belly.
Declan started to cry as his father’s rage reached it’s most brutal. He heard his brother scream even above the sound of his thundering heart and bellowing memories.
Closing his eyes, Declan
pressed his hands to his ears, pushing so hard his forearms ached and his head started to hurt, all the while the screams of his brother echoed through his mind along with his father’s incessant voice.
Worthless cunt! Ungrateful bastard, loser, faggot.
The sounds grew and grew until they blended into a tumultuous din, where no one word or turn of phrase could be separated from the other.
Declan swayed backward and forwards on the floor, his tears burning his face while guilt ate away at his soul.
Silence finally descended in the house, starting with the front door slamming shut as their father strode out of the house. As he pulled his hands away from his face, Declan felt the pull of dried blood from where his nose had bled, gluing his flesh together with a bloody seal.
As he got to his feet, his legs jelly beneath him, Declan feared the worst. He left his room and made his way to the stairs. Part of him expected to see his mother still standing there, daring him to come down, but she was gone.
It felt as if he were dreaming, his body, his actions and his thoughts, none of them in line, none of them really his, as Declan descended the stairs and moved into the living room.
He saw his brother on the floor, curled into a ball, weeping.
“Justin.” He moved swiftly to cradle his brother. He didn’t notice his mother standing to one side, watching her youngest suffer.
Justin flinched at the sound of his brother’s voice, raising his head to show the black eye and bloody nose that he had gotten, all for nothing
“I’m so sorry, J,” Declan sobbed, dropping to his knees beside his brother. “I’m so sorry,”
“Get away from him.” Peggy’s voice made Declan jump, sending him to his ass on the floor.
“Mum … I … why?” A thousand thoughts and questions buzzed through Declan’s brain. When confronted with his father’s rage, he crumbled; against his mother, he could force the words to the surface. Not with the same strength of voice as when he practiced in the car mirror, but he could give them a voice.
“He needs to learn his lesson. He is a liar and a filthy accident. He cursed our lives from the day he was born, and you will leave him there to learn or so help me God, Declan, I will call your father back for you.” There was a something different in his mother’s voice, a dullness to her eyes that told Declan that things were changing, and not in a good way.
Ignoring his mother, somehow finding a hidden strength in the face of a clear switch in patterns, he helped Justin to his feet, supporting almost all his brother’s weight.
“I knew this would happen. You are spending too much time with him. Well, if you think you can carry on behaving like that bastard child, then go ahead, see what it gets you.” Peggy’s eyes seemed to turn an even deeper shade of black as she barked her threats, her body trembling as adrenaline surged through her bloodstream.
“He’s my brother. It’s me and him, all the way,” Declan said, staring down his mother, while his insides felt as if they were about to melt through his trousers.
Peggy took a step forward, pulled back her hand, and slapped Declan across the face. He saw the blow coming but didn’t move out of the way. He stood and took it, feeling happy that for once, it was not his brother.
The blow stung Declan’s cheek, sending a burning spread of pain across his face until it felt as if half his head had been consumed by fire. Still, he gave no reaction, showed no sign of even noticing the slap. Turning his back on his mother, he helped his brother up the stairs.
“Don’t worry, bro. We are getting out of here. School is over in a few weeks, and I’ll find a job, then we can move out and get a place together. Leave this place behind.” Declan placed his brother on his bed and sat down behind him at Justin’s desk. He was not prepared to leave him alone.
Declan browsed through the artwork on the desk and found the image that his brother had been working on a few weeks before. The burning tenement block, the street littered with emergency services. With the color added to it, it almost looked real. Pulling it fully out of the stack of drawings, Declan took in every detail.
“You really have a gift, man.” He replaced the image and scanned through some more, while Justin fell into an uneasy sleep.
Chapter Four
Justin took a week off work after the incident with his father. His eye was swollen and flared with all manner of angry colors. Justin kept predominantly to himself, not leaving his room unless it was to eat. Dinners had come to a silent, awkward affair. He ate quickly, despite his lack of appetite. The food was tasteless and bland; everything was the same.
With his plate clean, Justin would retreat upstairs once more and wait there until he was next forced to join his family.
Declan was not around much, as he was picking up extra shifts at the factory, desperate to both avoid the house and ensure his financial independence.
It was midway through the second week when Justin returned to work, his face causing much concern for Mr. Bukowski, who wanted to make sure Justin was up to the task of minding the store.
Justin was never sure if his boss understood that his store was not some thriving people magnet, but rather a slowly dying local convenience that most people ignored.
It was another particularly quiet night, and Justin was considering closing early. The shelves were stocked and everything that could be tidied away had been. There hadn’t been a customer for almost twenty minutes and with only half an hour to go until closing time, Mr. Bukowski would not have minded. However, Justin didn’t know where else he was going to go, and while closing early would solve one dilemma, it would be replaced with a worse one.
He was drifting away with his thoughts when he heard the door open and the chime of the bell rang through the store. It startled him, and when he looked up, he felt even more on edge. Cassie Martin was standing in the store, alone, and she was smiling at him.
“Sorry if I made you jump,” she said with a grin. She moved towards the counter, and all Justin could think of was that she had nothing for him to ring up. “Oh my God, what happened to your face?”
A rush of heat flooded through him as the embarrassment of his home life came to the surface.
“Oh, nothing, I fell off my bike,” Justin said, wondering if the words sounded more convincing to her than they did to him.
“Sure,” she said, nodding, although it was clear from her expression that she didn’t believe him.
“So, what are you going to do once you are closed up here?” she asked, leaning forward against the counter.
It was still early summer, but the weather had gotten warm and she was wearing a pair of jeans and a white cotton shirt that was loose enough to give Justin a perfect view when she leaned towards him.
“I’m not sure, I haven’t thought about it yet,” he said, trying to hide the shake in his voice.
He held Cassie’s eye contact and felt as if he was sweating like a farmer in the heat of summer. Her eyes were a gentle shade of green, and her nose was peppered with freckles that made her look even more stunning. Her long auburn hair was loose, held in place by a simple headband.
“Well, if you don’t have any plans, how about we take a drive?” She looked out of the window and pointed at the Ford parked in the lot in front of the store. “That is yours, right?”
“Yeah, well, my brother and I share it, but I’ve got the keys tonight.” Justin smiled, worried he didn’t sound too much like a dork. He felt relieved then Cassie laughed.
“Well, how about you and I take a little drive later on?” She leaned closer to the counter and smiled once more.
“I’d like that,” Justin said, nodding, feeling the rest of the world melt away.
“Great,” she said, hurrying around the counter to join him there. “I’ll keep you company until you are ready.”
At five foot six, Cassie was a few inches shorter than Justin, who had had a late growth spurt, and under all normal circumstances, she would be out of his league. While she was not part of
the bitch-laden ruling clique of the school, she was popular, smart, and attractive. Justin didn’t know what she saw in him, and in that moment, he didn’t care. He just knew that he wasn’t going to let it pass.
There was no sign of any customers, so Justin flipped the sign ten minutes early and shut up shop, after ringing up a bottle of vodka for Cassie. With the shop locked up for the night, Justin escorted Cassie out to his car. Sliding in beside her, Justin smiled, his nerves seemingly left behind in the story because he felt calm and on top of the world when he looked at her.
They drove away from the store and headed out of town. There was no motorway linked to the town, but they followed the main road, which ran all the way through Horn Hill. The lights of passing cars on the motorway grew bolder and bolder before them, and they had yet to really decide where they were going to go.
“Why don’t we pull up over there somewhere? It’s a beautiful night. We can have a drink and talk a little.” Cassie smiled, and her eyes seemed to gleam in the night.
Justin swallowed hard, his heart thumping harder in his chest and echoing so loud in his ears he thought there could be no way that Cassie didn’t hear it.
Justin turned off onto a small slip road that took them through the country on a winding road, surrounded by farmland.
Cassie leaned closer, and the flowery scent of her perfume filled the car, and Justin wondered how he had not smelled it before. It was possibly the greatest aroma he had ever encountered. Driving suddenly became a much more complicated affair, and when Cassie reached over and blew gently into his ear, Justin almost sent them off the road.
“This looks like a good spot,” Cassie said, already climbing on Justin’s lap.
She pulled out the bottle of vodka, as Justin fumbled with the key, shutting down the engine.
Cassie unscrewed the cap and drank from the bottle. She giggled, and took another drink, before offering the bottle to Justin. He moved to take it, but Cassie pulled it away, the smile on her face one that screamed mischief and made Justin’s heart race even more.
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