Fighting for Farmington: Destruction is Inevitable (Harmony Series Book 2)

by JR Thompson

  “Collin, that’s not civil,” Brock replied. “You can’t attribute judgment on a juvenile you haven’t even encountered. Am I authorized to bring him over?”

  “Absolutely not. I don’t want some runaway brat to know where I live. But I want him outta there. Is that clear?”

  Brock was devastated. Why was it okay for the Russells to take him in when he was in need, but it wasn’t okay for him and Victoria to do the same for Titus? He had gotten out of the habit of petitioning God as fervently as he had in Clayville, but it was time to get in touch with his Creator.

  There in the yard he knelt down, bowed his head, and closed his eyes. “Dear Heavenly Father,” he began. “I will never contain the ability of thoroughly expressing the gratitude I possess for the wage you permitted Your son to compensate for my offenses. You have blessed me far beyond my worth. You attended me when I couldn’t fend for myself. You brought my wife and son back. It overcomes my being with guilt for requesting anything else. But God, Titus requires help precisely as I did. He demands a roof over his being and a guardian to watch over him. I feel it’s only appropriate, after everything that’s been provided for me, that I donate something back. Lord, I petitioned you before to use me in whatever way You desire. I’m still inclined to serve You and if that explains why You brought Titus to our residence, thank you! Please help Collin see it too, Lord. I ask these things in Jesus’ name, Amen.”

  Titus’s sketchy appearance didn’t phase Scottie in the least. Regardless of how anyone else perceived the situation, he was excited. Being the only kid in the house, everything that went wrong was invariably pinned on him. He was constantly being accused of having far worse behavior than Remington. The newcomer looked like a handful and in comparison, Scottie would resemble an angel (as long as he kept his hair long enough to cover up his horns anyway). As soon as his dad came back inside, Scottie anxiously asked where Titus was going to be sleeping.

  “I’m uncertain of the precise arrangements,” Brock responded. “We will decipher the particulars as promptly as is conceivable.”

  “I can just sleep on the floor,” Titus told him. “I’m not picky.”

  Even though Brock himself had slept on floors many times in the past, he had no intentions of allowing Titus to do the same. That, he insisted, was totally out of the question.

  Scottie remembered hearing how Remington had willingly slept on the couch so Brock could have a bedroom at the Russells’ place. But I’m not Remmy, he snarled. I like my bed. I’m not gonna be sleepin’ on the couch. Titus is the one who ran away.

  A moment later, Scottie was surprised when his parents announced they were going outside so the boys could have a chance to get better acquainted with one another. He knew what they really meant. Mom and Dad wanted to discuss something in private. Oh well, the boy sighed. Nothing new about that.

  Once the door closed, Scottie initiated a conversation with his new brother, as he liked to fancy him, “Do you have a girlfriend?”

  Titus smiled playfully, “Do you?”

  Somehow Scottie didn’t appreciate his question being answered with another question. Smile or no smile, that was plain rude. “I asked you first.”

  Titus raised both eyebrows, chuckled, and questioned, “So?”

  That did it. Scottie was officially annoyed. So much for having an older brother he could look up to. He tried to control himself. He really did. But he had to say something and before he knew what it was going to be, his jaw came unhinged. “So?... So… when somebody asks you something first, you have to answer first.”

  Titus appeared to take pleasure in watching Scottie’s temperature rise. Grinning with the cheesiest grin he could muster, he responded, “Nah, not necessarily my friend.”

  This dude has no clue who he’s messing with, Scottie thought. I ought to… I ought to… ugh! He had to say something. As long as it was mean and nasty, he didn’t care what it was. “No wonder your parents don’t like you,” he finally managed. “You’re a barf bag.”

  Titus chuckled without saying a word while trying to dodge the death rays Scottie was firing out of his eyeballs.

  Titus may have been able to ignore the insult. He may have been able to pretend he didn’t see those rays of death. But that wasn’t about to stop Scottie from doing everything in his power to get under his skin. “Why do you have your ear stretched out like that? Do you think it’s gonna make you popular somehow?”

  Still no response from Titus. That is, unless another mischievous smile counted for anything.

  “Are you too stupid to recognize the difference between ears and lips? You have an earring in your lip, you freak,” Scottie continued.

  Titus turned his eyes toward the floor, having no desire to debate with an extremely immature thirteen-year-old.

  “No wonder you wear those sissy clothes. They match your personality to a T. Maybe I was wrong to say I wanted you for a brother. You’re more like an annoying SISTER,” Scottie retorted, refusing to retreat from his plan of destroying the newcomer.

  Finally Titus spoke up, “Look kid, you’re not hurtin’ my feelings. Ya don’t intimidate me. Ya might as well give it up.”

  Words don’t hurt you, huh? Scottie reasoned. Then will sticks and stones break your bones? Ah... these’ll do! With that, Scottie took his left sneaker off and hurled it at Titus, hitting him square in the nose.

  Scottie succeeded — he found exactly the right button that needed pushing. Huffing and puffing, Titus jumped to his feet, stomped across the floor, and had the birthday boy in a choke hold before he knew what had happened. “I’m not your mommy or your daddy, kid. I don’t do crazy,” he warned.

  Scottie squirmed, pinched, and attempted to bite Titus — determined to escape from his grasp. “You haven’t seen crazy, yet. When I get loose, I’m gonna kill you.”

  Titus wasn’t one to back down very easily. “The longer it takes you to calm yourself, the longer you’re gonna be in this position. I don’t play, kid.”

  “Neither do I. Did you hear what I said earlier about wanting the house to burn down with everybody in it? I could make it happen, you know.”

  “You don’t have the guts, kid.”

  Scottie stomped Titus’s toe and spit on his leg. “You’ll find out. You better watch your back.”

  Titus chuckled and sarcastically said, “You’re such a tough guy. If I was a gnat, I might have trouble sleeping tonight.”

  Scottie continued issuing threats and attempting to escape for several more minutes without any response whatsoever from Titus. Eventually, he mumbled, “I’m sorry, okay? Just let me go!... I’ll quit... I promise!”

  “I’ll let you go, but you better not start with me when I do.”

  As soon as he was free, Scottie bounded to his feet and flipped the coffee table over before skirting into the dining room, grabbing a chair, and chucking it at Titus.

  The chair missed the seventeen-year-old by less than an inch. Titus charged at him a second time. Before he could lay a hand on him, however, Brock and Victoria returned to the house.

  “Whoa!” Brock hollered. “What’s progressing in here?”

  Titus stopped running, turned around to face the Pearsons, and ever-so-innocently shrugged his shoulders.

  Scottie whined, “I didn’t do anything, Dad. He’s being mean to me for no reason.”

  Even though Titus didn’t attempt to defend himself, all Brock had to do was glance around the room to know his son had just had another episode of what he referred to as mania.

  “Stand in the corner, Scottie,” Brock ordered.

  “No!” the thirteen-year-old yelled. “I’m too old to stand in the corner. Sissy Boy over there started it anyway! Make him stand in the corner!”

  Brock, perfectly in control of his emotions, marched over to Scottie, wrapped his arms around him, and dragged him to an empty corner of the living room where he literally forced him to do as he was told.

  4: Splitting Up

  Somehow peac
e and quiet didn’t mesh in Farmington. Horns honking, sirens blaring, fires constantly breaking out, and of course… doorbells.

  “Who is it?” Victoria called.

  “It’s me!” Remington’s voice bellowed as deafening as if he had been shouting through the world’s largest megaphone.

  He had stopped in for one reason and one reason only; he had heard about Titus and wanted to meet the runaway before Brock kicked him to the curb. Just like when he first met Brock, he had a ton of questions. Why had Titus run away? Did he have any brothers or sisters? Did he miss his mom and dad? What was it like living on his own?

  After getting through the majority of his interrogation, Remmy threw another inquiry out there, “So… since you can’t live here, where are you headed next?”

  Brock jumped in. “Um, on the contrary, Remmy, Titus is settling.”

  Remington shrugged his shoulders and stared at Brock as if he had lost his mind. “That’s not what Dad said.”

  Victoria spoke up before Brock had a chance to respond. “Your father is mistaken, Remmy. Brock and I agreed to allow Titus to stay.”

  “But Dad insisted this isn’t a homeless shelter and he didn’t agree to —”

  “That’s not a decision for your father to make,” Victoria snapped. “Perhaps it’s time for you to run along home now.”

  Remmy was shocked. He had always gotten along well with Brock, but Victoria was one temperamental lady as far as he was concerned. She reminded him of the loud, clamorous woman referred to in the book of Proverbs. Brock would not have ever spoken to him in that fashion. Beyond the shadow of a doubt, he knew it was Victoria who had decided to disobey his dad’s instructions — it certainly wasn’t the guy his family had sheltered and bent over backward to help. “Brock,” he remarked. “You’re the man of the house. Do you want me to leave?”

  Victoria offered both Remington and Brock an evil glare.

  “Remmy, I conceive the notion that would be superb,” Brock replied. “We have much to tend to presently and do not entirely have time for company.”

  I can take a hint, Remmy thought. You don’t want me here. You don’t like me anymore. “Can I ask you one question before I leave?”

  “Assuredly, buddy. Ask away.”

  “Why are you not obeying my dad? He’s the boss because he owns this house. The Bible says you’re supposed to submit to those that have the rule over you. Remember?”

  “Return to your own residence, Remington. Don’t come back unless in your parents’ presence,” Brock growled.

  Wow, Remington thought. Am I that annoying? Nobody wants me around anymore. Hanging his head, the boy traipsed to his house on the other end of Swim Street.

  ✽ ✽ ✽

  Neighbors’ homes and businesses burning to the ground was unsettling enough, but the smell of something burning inside his own home was a bit much. Collin might have been paranoid, but there was no way that stench was filtering in from outside.

  Tossing down his newspaper, he leaped to his feet and headed down the hall, stopping off at each room and sniffing the air. The odor grew stronger the further he made it down the hall.

  Oh, I hope there’s not a fire in here. We don’t even have an extinguisher, he told himself, feeling the doorknob to Remington’s room.

  The vacuum suddenly shut off. “Honey!” Alayna yelled. “The belt’s burning in the sweeper!”

  Collin let out a sigh of relief. “On my way—”

  He couldn’t finish his sentence before hearing the front door fling open.

  “Dad, Dad!” Remington hollered, rushing into the house completely out of breath.

  Collin spun around and jogged toward the living room, hoping Remmy wasn’t about to tell him a neighbor’s house was going up in flames. “What’s wrong?”

  “Titus… Brock… Victoria…”

  “Slow down, Remmy. What’s the matter?” Collin asked.

  “They’re not listening to you. Brock and Victoria told Titus he can stay. I told ‘em you said he couldn’t and they yelled at me to get out of their house.”

  Alayna’s eyes rolled and she felt her jaw getting tight. “You don’t have to put up with that, Collin. It’s our property. If the Pearsons don’t appreciate what we’re doing for their family, it’s time to show them the door.”

  Alayna had felt that way for quite some time but had been afraid to say so. As much as she had finally learned to appreciate Brock, his family was another story altogether. She feared Scottie was going to destroy their rental property and she couldn’t stand Victoria, or “the mouth of the south,” as she often viewed her. She felt like the friendship they had with Brock had come to an abrupt end when they left Clayville.

  “You might be right, dear,” Collin replied. “I’m beginning to feel like they’ve outstayed their welcome.”

  “I’m upset too, but Dad,” Remington interjected, “is it right to throw somebody out in the cold simply because you have a disagreement with them? Is that would Jesus would have done?”

  “Not for disagreeing with someone, no,” Collin asserted. “But when someone defies the authority in their lives, they do sometimes have to pay the price. He’s not even taking into account the warning I’ve shared with him about that kid’s choice of leaving his feet unprotected.”

  “I’m not trying to argue, but I asked what Jesus would do,” Remington reiterated.

  “What did Jesus do when people were selling things in the temple, Remmy?”

  For once, the Bible scholar had been outmaneuvered with the Word of God. He had forgotten all about Jesus knocking over tables and seats and running the salesmen out of the temple.

  Without offering an apology, Remmy retreated to his bedroom to sulk.

  ✽ ✽ ✽

  Bitterness has a tendency of destroying people. That was something Brock and Victoria knew firsthand. Home was not supposed to be a place filled with stress and turmoil, yet the Pearson residence was becoming permeated with both.

  Allowing Titus and Scottie to stay home, Brock and Victoria marched down to the Russells’ place and rapped on the door.

  “We are delivering our intention of vacating the premises,” Brock thundered the second Collin answered. “Things are no longer interlocking.”

  Collin and Alayna communicated with one another with their eyes.

  “Do you want to come in and discuss this?” Collin asked.

  “Definitely,” Victoria replied, anxiously awaiting a chance to release some steam.

  Inside, the four adults discussed the tension between both parties. It was evident that the longer the Pearsons lived on the rental property, the worse their relationship was going to get. Collin and Brock agreed they wanted to rebuild their friendship, but recognized that could not be done unless they afforded each other some space.

  Realizing there was no reason to continue their gripe-fest, Brock and Victoria claimed they had to head back to the house to check on the boys.

  They left the Russells’ place with an air of confidence. It didn’t matter that they had no place to go. They knew God was watching over them and they were certain He would provide.

  Upon arriving at their rental property, Brock told the boys what had transpired and asked his household to take part in a group prayer. To his pleasant surprise, Titus volunteered to pray first.

  “Dear God,” the young fellow began, “Thou hast been most kind to Thine servant. I love Thee with all of my soul. Thou hast been with me even when I have turned my back on Thee. Please forgive Thine servant for straying. These kind people who have taken me in are in need of Thee. It is Thou and Thou alone who art able to direct the paths of Your sheep. We ask Thee now to point this household in the direction You wish us to go.”

  Wow, Brock noted. My ears have never beheld such a supplication as that. Since no one else jumped in, Brock spoke next, “Dear Heavenly Father, once more we find ourselves in a distressing situation beyond the scope of our reasoning. We have established a meager amount of revenue whi
le I have been performing manual labor for a multitude of individuals, but that revenue will not endure forever. What can we do, God? Is there another place of dwelling in which you want us to reside? An assignment you desire us to complete?”

  Scottie barged in before Brock could even finish his invocation, “Okay God,” he announced, “I guess it’s my turn to pray now. I don’t honestly see the point in talking to You because You never answer my prayers anyway, but Dad says I have to pray, so here goes nothin’. Collin has some kind of a foot fetish and he and Alayna are fatheads. Remington is a blubbering crybaby. We can’t stand any of ‘em and we need to get away from here as soon as possible. Are you gonna do anything about this, God? We sure hope so.”

  As grueling as it was to follow that eloquent prayer, Victoria put forth her best effort, “Oh God, Creator, Friend, we beg you to aid us. We made a tough decision and—”

  The sound of a police siren interrupted her prayer, but only for a moment. “I realize we should’ve talked to you about it first. Please forgive us for not asking You before deciding to move away. But now that we’ve put ourselves in this situation, can You direct us to our next move? We don’t have any idea what to do, but like my husband stated, we are willing to do whatever You want us to. Just show us the path and we’ll roam it.”

  All four of them followed her prayer with a hearty “Amen.”

  5: Opportunity Knocks

  Ten days and two house fires after the big confrontation, Collin stopped by the Pearsons’ for an unannounced visit.

  Victoria answered the door. A wave of fury pummeled over her the moment she beheld Collin’s face. “What do you want? Are we not getting out of here fast enough for you?”

  Collin chuckled. “Cute slippers.”

  Victoria glanced down. How had she managed to put on two different house shoes? One was purple and the other was white. What in the world?

  “I’m not here to make things any harder for you,” Collin said. I just wanted to run something by Brock for a minute. Is he available?”