180 Days

by T. E. Ridener

  They had only been playing for about twenty minutes in the local park when other kids started showing up. One of those kids was Devin Rose.

  “Just ignore them.” Jonathan instructed his little brother. “They ain’t good news.”

  “Okay.” Jeb nodded, making ‘vroom’ noises as he rolled his little red car towards Jonathan’s purple one. “Get me, police officer! I’m speeding!”

  “You’re supposed to drive the other way.” Jonathan laughed nervously, occasionally glancing up so he could locate Devin. He didn’t want any trouble today; he just wanted to play with his brother.

  “Oh. Okay. Come get me!” Jeb said excitedly, pushing his car towards the sandbox. “I’m not going to jail, copper!”

  “Yes, you are!” Jonathan giggled. It was a girly giggle, too. He quickly stifled the laugh and cleared his throat, frowning. “This is the police.” He said in the deepest voice he could muster—it felt so wrong. “Pull over!”

  “That’s the gayest car I’ve ever seen.”

  Feeling a chill go down his spine in the middle of May was never a good thing.

  “Ignore him.” He whispered to Jeb.

  Jeb nodded and slowly pulled his car over, making a terrible screeching brake noise in the process. “You’ll never take me alive, copper!”

  “Oh, so you’re getting pulled over by the gay police in their gay purple car?” Devin snorted. “It’s not even a police car, you idiot.”

  “Go away.” Jonathan said, glaring at him. “We’re playing.”

  “No.” Devin kicked sand at his face and Jonathan barely turned his head in time to avoid getting hit in the eyes. “I don’t want you playing here.”

  “It’s a public park. Anybody can play here.”

  “Leave my brother alone!” Jeb shouted, shaking his fist in Devin’s direction.

  “Oooh. I’m so scared!” Devin taunted him.

  He’d gotten the attention of some other kids by now and it was all Jonathan could do to keep from crying. Tears were girls—everybody knew that, and he was –not- a girl.

  “Come on, Jeb. Let’s go home.”

  As he gathered their cars and reached for the kite, Devin yanked it from his hands and examined it.

  “Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles?” He observed aloud, wrinkling his nose. “Didn’t your mommy mean to buy you a Barbie one?”

  The small crowd of kids surrounding them began to laugh and Jonathan wanted to disappear. He hated when people laughed at him. What did he ever do to get made fun of?

  “Shut up, you big turd sniffer.” Jeb stood up to his full height, which wasn’t much, and pointed a finger at Devin. “We like those turtles just as much as anybody else around here. I don’t reckon there’s a law against it.”

  “When did you start letting your six-year-old brother fight your fights?” Devin pushed messy hair away from his eyes and grinned. “Too much of a pussy, Johnny?”

  “Shut up.” He didn’t know what else to say. All he wanted to do was go home and forget this nightmare. At least he’d have the weekend off before the torture started again on Monday. Fourth grade was hard enough already.

  “Shut up?” Devin echoed.

  “Ooooh. You’re going to get it now, Johnny!” One of the bystanders cackled.

  “Did you tell me to shut up?” Devin stepped up to him, nose to nose, and Jonathan’s knees began to tremble.

  He just knew he was going to get hit.

  Again.

  “Yes, I did.” Jonathan replied bravely. “Please give my brother’s kite back.”

  “What, this?” He held the kite up in the air, sneering. “This is what you want?”

  “Yes.” Jonathan swallowed hard.

  “Okay.” Devin shrugged.

  But he knew it wouldn’t be that easy. It was never that easy.

  He watched as Devin pulled a lighter free from his front pocket and tried to light it, all the while eyeing him closely with that same wicked little smile on his lips.

  “Don’t do that.” He pleaded. “We just got it.”

  “It was a birthday gift!” Jeb wailed, reaching out to grasp the tail of the kite. “My daddy bought me that!”

  But it was too late. Once the fire started, there was no ending it.

  Devin tossed it to the ground as it burned and Jonathan knew he’d never forget the sound of his brother’s crying.

  “You big jerk!” Jeb sobbed. “That was mine!”

  “Too bad.” Devin spit on the burning kite and glared at them. “That’s what you get for having a faggot for a brother.”

  God, not the names. Anything but the names. Jonathan felt shame wash over him by the bucket loads as he watched Jeb wipe his tears away furiously.

  Why did his little brother have to suffer, too? Wasn’t torturing him enough?

  “Asshole.” Jonathan muttered beneath his breath.

  “What did you say?” Devin was in his face again. “Did you call me something, gay-boy?”

  “I think he called you the a-word!” Someone gasped.

  “Oh, that’s gonna cost ya.” Devin shook his head, his eyes wild with rage.

  It was enough to make Jonathan wet his pants.

  “Come here, you little queer.” He grabbed him in a headlock before he could do anything. The world flipped upside down as Devin’s fist connected with his gut, knocking the wind from his lungs.

  “Stop!” Jeb shrieked. “Leave him alone! Get off him!”

  “Go away, you little shit.” Devin laughed, shoving him to the ground. “This doesn’t concern you.”

  Looking up at them with teary eyes, Jeb yelled, “I’m telling my mama!”

  Jonathan tried to catch his breath as he fell to the ground, watching his brother run like the wind to find the only person who could save him right now.

  Hurry, he thought.

  “Now, where was I, faggot?” Devin asked, grabbing him up from the ground. “Oh. Right. I was going to pound in your face.”

  “Get him, Devin!” One of his friends laughed. “Punch him hard!”

  “Make him bleed out of his little faggot nose!”

  “Knock out a tooth!”

  “Please don’t do this.” Jonathan begged, gasping for air. “I didn’t do anything to you, Devin. Just let me go home.”

  “You think I’m just going to let you go?” Devin asked, grabbing the front of his shirt and pulling him closer. “We don’t just let fairies go around here. Prairie Town ain’t going to have any freaks running around.”

  “I’m not a fr-freak!” Jonathan shouted, tears burning his eyes. “I didn’t do anything. Let me go.”

  And there it was. The first punch. It hurt terribly.

  Cupping his throbbing cheek, Jonathan stumbled backwards, but managed to keep his balance as he glared at Devin. The obnoxious hotshot clasped his hands together in victory, boasting to his friends as they cheered him on.

  “Hit him again!”

  “Oh, I’m gonna.” Devin promised, circling Jonathan as the playground filled with more and more kids. They all wanted to watch.

  Everybody wanted to watch when the weird kid was getting picked on.

  “Fight! Fight! Fight! Fight!” They all chanted, fists lifting into the air as they smiled viciously like rabid animals.

  All Jonathan wanted to do was go home, but he knew there was no escape. They were going to hurt him no matter if it was today, tomorrow, or next week.

  “I saw you wearing lip gloss the other day.” Devin said matter-of-factly. “Wasn’t that Debbie Phillips’ Lip Smacker you had on? You stole it from her desk.”

  “I didn’t steal anything!” Jonathan insisted, rubbing his cheek. It still throbbed, a fresh reminder of the hate he was surrounded by on a daily basis. Sometimes the physical pain was more bearable than the emotional.

  Did that make him a freak? Was that why they hated him so much?

  “Debbie put it on me. She said it would help my chapped lips.”

  They didn’t need to know that he a
ctually liked wearing it, that it made him feel pretty. It would only cause more pain.

  “I know why you were wearing it, you little gay-wad.” Devin smirked. “You probably like wearing your mama’s heels, too, don’t ya? Just admit it. You’re a big ole queer and you probably like kissing boys, too.”

  “Ewwww!” The kids cried in unison.

  “That’s gross.”

  “That’s so wrong!”

  “You’ll go to hell for that, Johnny McIntosh! My daddy says so!”

  “You make me sick.” Devin punched him again.

  The hot liquid flowing from his nose ran over his lips and he did his best not to taste it. He hated the taste of blood.

  Another punch right to the mouth.

  Just end this already, he thought as he fell to the ground.

  Devin pounced on him, pinning his arms to the ground with his knees as he hit him again and again.

  Let it end, he begged, squeezing his eyes shut. Let me die.

  But then Devin released a howl of pain and fell off him, cradling the side of his head. Jonathan wasn’t sure what was happening until the kids scattered like cockroaches and Laney came into view.

  She was grasping rocks in her hands—big ones—and hurling them at anything she saw move. Apparently she had a good arm.

  “Get away from my brother!” She cried like a banshee. “I’ll kill all of you!”

  His head hurt. His everything hurt. Struggling to stand up, he winced from the pain in his stomach and collapsed to the ground again. Laney reached his side quickly and knelt beside him, her hands gently touching his face.

  “Oh, Johnny. You’re bleeding.” The sadness and fear in her voice didn’t go unnoticed by him. He felt the same sadness and fear.

  “Why do they do this?” He asked as tears leaked from his swollen eye. “What did I do to deserve it?”

  “Nothing, Johnny. They’re just stupid.” She said, wrapping an arm around him. “Come on. Let’s get you home, okay? Mama will fix you.”

  “Ain’t nothing broken.” He whispered. “I don’t need fixed.”

  Laney paused and he understood why. They’d overheard their parents talking about his obsession with playing with dolls—they thought he was broken.

  “I don’t mean like that, doofus. You need to get your nose looked at. He hit you good.”

  “You hit him better.” He forced a smile.

  “Well, he’ll learn not to hit my big brother. Same blood, remember?”

  “Same blood.” He repeated, standing up slowly and peering at the remains of the burnt kite. Sadness overwhelmed him as he thought about Jeb.

  “We’ll get him a new one.” Laney promised, keeping her arm tight around him. “But we can’t get a new you, can we?”

  “No, I guess not.” He replied as they began walking home.

  But a part of him desperately wished it was possible.

  The memory faded from her mind as more tears rolled down her cheeks and it was all Lydia could do to see past them. Continuing her way down the street, she repeatedly told herself she was loved and no matter what her brain told her from time to time, she was important to Jeb and Laney. They’d fought for her plenty of times even if they never realized it.

  “Stop being dumb.” She told herself, hugging her arms around her slender frame and picking up the pace. “You’re just trying to make up excuses to leave.”

  Was that true?

  She quite liked living in Prairie Town now. It was growing on her, as were several of the residents—one in particular.

  Knowing Agatha and Benji would visit often helped a great deal, too. Being back home wasn’t as bad as she’d made it out to be and maybe, just maybe, her Gran knew that.

  I can do this. She nodded silently in affirmation. I can make this work.

  The only issue, it seemed, was getting her brain to cooperate. It was so used to the bad that the good barely had a fighting chance.

  It wasn’t fair.

  “Lydia!”

  Her brother’s voice took her by surprise and she whirled around to see him running towards her. His long legs carried him quickly and her pulse quickened as worry began to plague her.

  Why was he chasing after her?

  “Lydia, wait.” He panted, doubling over when he got to her. “Just...a...second...”

  “Are you okay?”

  “Fine...just...need...air.”

  “What are you doing out here, Jeb?” She folded her arms and frowned, but she could hardly be upset with him. The fact he’d chased after her had to mean something.

  “Wanted...to say...I’m sorry.” He huffed, lifting his head to stare at her. “Big...jerk. Sorry.”

  “You’re not a big jerk. You were in the middle of an argument. It’s okay.”

  “No.” He gulped down more air and straightened to his full height, towering over her. “It’s not right. I shouldn’t have said that. You,”—he placed his hands on her shoulders and squeezed—“are worth the trouble, Lydia. You’ve always been worth the trouble.”

  She sucked in a quick breath and ignored the burning in her nostrils. Damn it, she wasn’t going to cry anymore. Her hormones needed to get a grip.

  “I love you.” He gave her a crooked smile. “You’re my sister and I’d fight Devin Rose again if I had to.”

  Oh, this was ridiculous. Rolling her teary eyes, she lunged forward and hugged him as tightly as she could. “I know that.”

  “Good.” He sighed, his heart beating furiously against his chest. “Don’t leave. Please don’t leave.”

  “I’m not leaving.” Her heart sank. Had it really come to this? Did her family have to be paranoid about her leaving every time they had a little tiff? That wasn’t what she wanted. “I’m not going anywhere.”

  “Well, you left to go for a walk and I got scared.” He admitted, smoothing his palm over her hair. “I don’t ever want you to leave because of something stupid I’ve said.”

  “I doubt you could ever say anything that would make me want to leave, Jeb. Don’t worry about it. I’m right where I belong.”

  The words slipped out of her mouth before she even had a chance to think about it.

  It was too late to take them back.

  Was it true? Was she where she belonged? It sure felt like it sometimes. But what if she was jumping the gun? What if her paranoia proved to be correct and something happened that made her want to leave?

  “Good.” He buried his face against the top of her head, the smile in his voice astoundingly clear. “I’m glad you feel that way, Sis.”

  “Me, too.” She whispered, frowning to herself as they hugged again.

  God, don’t let me regret saying that.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Lydia

  The incident at the bar was never mentioned again—much to her surprise—and Jeb still had his job, but it didn’t help the feeling of dread lingering over her head when she thought about what Devin Rose and his family was scheming behind closed doors.

  They weren’t good people, at all. While Devin Rose had always been a big bully, his father was the biggest one of all. He’d set a fine example for his sons by bullying the locals out of business, money, and land. They were only so wealthy because of everything he’d taken from other people, often by intimidation and sometimes by force.

  It wasn’t fair.

  She hated them. It was wrong to hate and she knew that, but she honest to goodness hated them.

  A rose was meant to be sweet and beautiful, but oh, how names were deceiving. If only she could ensure Jeb didn’t lose his job...

  “Earth to Lydia. Where’d you go?” Laney asked, tapping the tip of her pen against the countertop. “Are you going to help me make a list of stuff we need for the party or not?”

  “Huh?”

  “That’s what I thought. Lost in your brain again, huh?” Laney smiled sweetly—too sweetly.

  She’d been extra nice the past few weeks and Lydia had a feeling she knew why; Jeb was being super n
ice, too. If they felt bad about what had been said that night, they needed to forget it—she had. Apologies had been issued, hugs had been given; there wasn’t any need for being so sickly-sweet and nice now. She just wanted things to go back to normal.

  Well, her family’s definition of normal.

  “So apples or no apples?” Laney asked rather loudly, obviously trying to keep her attention. “Jeb eats all the apples when he comes over and if we’re going to have a true Halloween party, we need to bob for apples.”

  “Double up on them if you want to be cliché.” Lydia mumbled, feeling her phone vibrate in her pocket.

  She tugged it out and smiled when she saw who the text was from.

  “Ugh. Reply to Lover Boy and get back to me.” Laney waved her off. “I’ll just write down some more cliché stuff.”

  “Oh well.” Lydia teased, hopping down from her stool and hurrying to her bedroom, simultaneously hitting the call button.

  It barely rang once when he answered.

  “Hey, beautiful. How’s my girl?”

  “Making a party supply list, apparently,” she replied, flopping down on her bed like a teenager. “Laney wants to bob for apples.”

  “She does?” He laughed.

  God, she loved that laugh.

  “Well, you should probably know I’m a champion when it comes to bobbing for apples.”

  She tried to envision him dunking his head in a bucket of water and it made her giggle. Maybe the party wouldn’t be all that terrible after all...

  “Are your friends coming?”

  “Agatha and Ben? Of course! They’ll be here tomorrow morning and they’ll be staying the whole weekend. I’m excited to see them again.”

  “I know you are. I can’t wait to see them, too.”

  “You can’t?” Her heart fluttered.

  “Ben’s good company, and I love how Jeb gets flustered around Ags.”

  “You mean he gets flustered around Agatha?” How had she not noticed that last time?

  “Yeah, but we can talk about that another time. Have you settled on what our costumes will be?”

  “Yes.” She was grateful that Callum agreed to dress up with her. Halloween was her second favorite holiday—next to Christmas. She liked to think she’d given a lot of thought to their costumes, too. “Let’s go as the Incredible Hulk and Black Widow.”