Spider Webs - 14. Chapter 14: Hurricane Micah

I stared at Patrick when he made that announcement, and then pulled on the door handle. It was locked.

“Unlock this door,” I demanded, going from calm to angry in a flash. “We need to get to the Windletons’. ” Patrick didn’t argue, just did as I demanded. On the ride to the Windleton’s Patrick kept telling me to calm down. I’m not sure why he was telling me to calm down, though. I was just sitting there calmly grinding my teeth..

Patrick pulled over on the side of the road and came to a stop “Micah,” he said. I looked at him, wondering why he was pulling over. “You need to calm down. You’re scaring the storm clouds away,” he said.

I cracked a smile, but only for an instant. “I don’t want to calm down. Now drive, please…”

Patrick sighed, but did as I said. He put the car in drive and got back on the road. As far as I was concerned, he was going too slow. His grandmother could probably drive faster than he was.

“Patrick, can you go faster?” I asked.

He grunted, sounding annoyed. “I’m going 80 in a 45,” he snapped pulling into the on-coming traffic lane so he could get around some grandpa in his twenties.

“Hey, I think that was…”

“Uncle Bryce. He’s going to ground me later,” Patrick muttered, unhappy.

“Sorry,” I replied. I wasn’t, though.

Patrick finally got to the Windleton’s. I didn’t recognize the large black truck that looked brand-new sitting by the house. That’s probably because it was brand new. In-transit stickers were just visible through the tinted windows: It was a 2011 black Chevy Silverado 3500HD.

I did recognize the guy with black hair that wasn’t much taller than me. He was 5’9”, two inches taller than me and heavily built. If it came down to a fight, the only advantage I’d have was if he was drunk. It was my dad. He had the hood up on his old truck—the one that had died and left me and Joel stranded in a mall parking lot at two in the morning.

He didn’t see me coming around the side of the black Silverado as he turned and reached into the cab of his truck like he was going to start it. There was no way in hell it was going to start. Ken had been working on that thing for weeks when he wasn’t helping me with the house.

“A hundred and seventy-five bucks says it doesn’t start,” I remarked coldly.

My dad turned and looked at me. I couldn’t read his face. I could see the blood-shot eyes though. I didn’t bother to try and hide the hatred and anger I was feeling when I saw them, I could care less if he knew how pissed off I was with him.

“Micah.” That’s all he said before he turned away and hit the ignition switch. The truck roared to life with a fury that was matched only by my temper. Dad winked at me. It felt like an insult. A sour taste filled my mouth. I spit on the ground. “You always did take better care of that truck than you did us,” I remarked, bitter.

“Micah,” he growled. I could tell he didn’t like my tone. I didn’t care.

“So, you’re alive,” I said, unhappy because no one had told me, but than, I hadn’t asked either.

“No thanks to you, boy,” he growled back, tottering slightly as he inspected his truck.

“You mean no thanks to the alcohol, right?” I snapped back.

“Boy, you better watch your mouth!” he growled.

“Or what? You gonna get all pissed off and hit me, knock me to the ground and start kicking me?” I asked, mocking him.

Elizabeth appeared on the porch, a phone to her mouth as she wrapped an arm around Joel. He must have come out when he had seen me arrive. He was staring at us, his eyes as wide as saucers. Patrick was staring too, as Reese joined them on the porch, his own phone to his mouth. I ignored Ben, Stacey and Lissa when they came outside, too; I just turned my attention to my dad until the sound of tires rolling up the drive reached my ears.

My dad moved toward me, an ugly scowl on his face. I backed up a couple of steps, my hands coming up to defend myself. He stopped, glared at me. His red nose turned even redder as his eyes narrowed. Then he lunged at me.

“Stop!” someone screamed.

It happened so quickly, I was barely aware of it. All of a sudden, Joel was standing between me and my dad, still screaming that one word.

“Stop,” came pouring out of his mouth, again and again.

I was barely aware of Avery running past me, pushing my dad away from my brother and me. Ken was next to join the fray, creating a buffer between Deputy Hayes; me and Joel.

But Ken wasn’t paying attention to Avery, or to my dad, or to me. None of us was paying attention to anything except the one person in my world who’d so abruptly shattered the sound of silence.

“Just…stop…” Joel said. His voice was weak, raspy, and broken. It was the most wonderful thing I’d heard in a long, long time, even if it didn’t sound anything like what it once had. A sob escaped Joel. Tears trekked down his face. He turned and without looking back fled into the house, past a stunned Elizabeth and Reese. Patrick was staring at me, looking as shocked as I felt. I ignored him. Ignored all of them as I ran into the house after Joel and came to a stop.

A birthday cake was just barely visible on the table among the streamers and signs all saying “Happy Birthday, Micah” that were hung around the house. I thought I saw a guitar wrapped in a bow next to the couch. There were other presents, too, neatly wrapped and just waiting to be opened. I swallowed hard.

Elizabeth came in behind me. Joel flung himself into Elizabeth’s arms. The sound of his sobbing tore at me, made me angrier. If Dad hadn’t shown up Joel wouldn’t be crying.

“Micah! Damn it, boy!” I heard my dad shout after me. “Bah! I’ll be seeing you again, you hear! And happy birthday, you little shit!”

Those were the words I could barely hear.

“Just…Stop…” was still echoing in my head. It was beautiful.

It... I wasn’t sure what I was feeling as I looked at Joel hugging Elizabeth, safe in her arms. And he had…they had…I ran back out the back door. Dad was arguing with the deputy. Ken was talking to Avery. Mrs. Emerson, my case worker from the Department of Health and Human Services was there, standing in the background and taking notes on a legal pad. I’m not sure where she had come from.

That didn’t stop me, though. I came running off the porch and around the black truck and shoved my dad. A deputy I didn’t know looked startled for a second but got between us. I ducked and danced out of his way when he tried to grab for me and found myself on the porch again.

“Who the fuck do you think you are?” I shouted.

My dad was red in the face, glaring at me “Boy, what the hell do you think you’re doing?” Dad asked.

“What? Don’t you get it Dad, I’m pissed… and I’m sure as hell not happy much. And I feel that way almost all the time! Hell, I barely know who I am. For five years, I haven’t been happy. Just angry, because Mom died…and you weren’t there. You were drunk. Always drunk. It was…just…me, and Joel. That anger, it’s all I seem to know. The only time I manage to get away from it is when I’m there, in that house,” I pointed into the distance, “working on it, or when I’m at school, surrounded by the people I’m starting to think of as my friends! Do you know how long it’s been since I’ve had friends? Huh Dad, do you? Do you know how long it’s been since I’ve done anything normal! Hell, I stole cars just to keep Joel and me fed! Because you weren’t there, damn it!”

I stopped screaming. I hadn’t realized I had been screaming. I took a deep breath, ignored everyone staring at me like I had lost my mind. I laughed at that thought. It came out more as a low moan instead. Perhaps I had lost my mind.

“Do you know what I got the last time I celebrated my birthday?” I asked, more quietly. Dad was shaking his head, like he didn’t want to hear it. It was too late for that, though.

“I got a little brother who stopped speaking, a father that got drunk; who has been drunk since, and a mom that died and left me. I almost got sent to jail for stealing cars and I got the shit beat out of me over and over again; by you, by other kids in school because they thought we were trash; and you didn’t care, and you were never around, unless you were drunk. Did I forget to mention how angry I am with you?”

I clutched at the railing, stared into my father’s eyes. “Please do me a favor and go away. Because… I don’t want you anymore, and we don’t need you. We don’t. We’ve been doing fine for the last five years, and you know what, we’re going to be okay without you!”

And it was true. Dad wasn’t saying anything, just kept shaking his head; he looked angry, and dazed, like I’d slapped him silly. I knew how that felt. I’d gotten slapped silly on more than one occasion.

I left my dad standing there, looking like that. I was still angry, and hurting, and I didn’t understand it, because…I thought I would have felt better, getting all that crap I’d been carrying around for years off my chest. But I didn’t.

Patrick followed me. I tried to hide the tears flowing down my cheeks and then decided that I didn’t mind.

I could see Joel staring at me through the door, probably wondering where I was going. He had his arms still wrapped around Elizabeth. She was crying, her head buried into the top of Joel’s head. I couldn’t stand it. I should have been the one comforting him; I wasn’t sure I had that right anymore.

I made it to the house I’d been tearing down just as Dad started shouting again, telling me this wasn’t done, because we were his kids, and he didn’t care if we didn’t like him. Telling me we’d be seeing him again. A shudder wracked my body; I flopped onto the floor and finally decided that this would be a good time to cry, because Patrick was the only person there to see it, and I’d only have to kill him if he told anyone. One body was far easier to bury than nine.

---

I was lying on the floor, my head in Patrick’s lap when I calmed down enough to become aware of my surroundings. He was stroking my hair. I wasn’t sure how he’d gotten me into that position. I wasn’t sure I cared either. I was just glad that I wasn’t crying so hard anymore.

We weren’t alone, either. I should have been surprised, but after this evening, I wasn’t sure anything could surprise me anymore.

Timmy, my shrink, was sitting on the floor next to us. I’m not sure when he had arrived. Must have been after my blow up; Patrick stopped stroking my hair as I sat up, took a deep breath.

My chest hurt.

No one said anything. The silence was becoming unbearable. Someone needed to say something. Anything.

“It was my eleventh birthday, the day that she died.”

It was me. I was breaking the silence. “Car accident…” I shook my head, tried to smile but couldn’t. “It was so stupid…Joel had, uh, knocked the cake Mom had baked onto the floor, by accident, you know.” I sniffed and wiped at my eyes, to no avail. I couldn’t seem to stop crying. “I was so mad, and Mom; she just laughed at me and told me to stop being a brat, and to stop being mean to Joel. She told me I should love him, and to give him a hug, instead.”

I hadn’t thought about that in years. I hadn’t remembered it before this moment. It made me laugh, slightly. “Uh…she said she was going to the store, to get me a new cake, you know…” I looked at Timmy. Looked away. Found Patrick’s eyes. Those gorgeous green eyes; they were so easy to stare into. I didn’t feel like they were judging me. “But uh…she never came back…” I stopped. Couldn’t talk. I swallowed the lump in my throat and wiped at my eyes again.

“It’s my fault, you know…” I said, as conversationally as I could. I felt like I was choking on my words. “When Dad came and got us…uh…the doctors, they told us she was gone, and Dad hadn’t left her side, and Joel, he was six…he wouldn’t stop crying and…I was yelling at him and yelling at him and finally I…” I looked away, ashamed. It wasn’t enough. I lifted my shirt and blew my nose, just as someone offered me a tissue. “…I …” I couldn’t look at Patrick anymore, either. Too much shame. “I shook him…”

My confession came out in a whisper; hoarse. I swear to god you could have heard a pin drop in that room. No one said anything. I felt like sobbing like a baby all over again. I pushed that urge back. The guilt though, that continued to consume me. “And I just kept…shaking him… I blamed her death on him,.” I wiped at my eyes. It was useless. “I broke my little brother.” A sob escaped me. “I broke him…”

My confession. Making it was the most painful thing I had ever done… “Shaking him and shaking him and shaking and…” I couldn’t stop talking. I needed to stop talking, but I couldn’t. “… finally he stopped crying.” I snorted, could feel the snot slipping back into my throat. “…and…I remember yelling at him to shut… to just shut up, and he did.”

I could hardly see. I squinted, trying to focus my eyes. I found Patrick and Timmy still looking at me. I looked away; didn’t want to see their horrified looks; didn’t want to see that Elizabeth and Ken, Avery and Reese and Mrs. Emerson and even Ben and the girls were there. Everyone was there. My eyes found Joel.

I was shaking my head, apologetic, even as Timmy handed me a pill and a glass of water, forced me to take it. My eyes never left Joel’s. The skin on my forehead and around my eyes felt pinched.

“I’m sorry.” Worthless. They were the most worthless words I had ever heard uttered before in my life. ‘I’m sorry’ couldn’t take back all the horrible things I had done. ‘I’m sorry’ couldn’t get Joel to start speaking again, and yet, for all that, I meant them with all my heart. They were the same words I had uttered every day for the last five years, when Joel was sleeping. Because when it came to Joel, I think; out of everyone else I had said them to, he was the only person who was truly worthy of those words. He was the most important person in my life.

“I didn’t mean…mean…” I was stuttering; still couldn’t see clearly. Someone ran into me, wrapped me in a hug. It was Joel, squeezing me, rocking me. My eyes closed. I didn’t… couldn’t; let him go. Someone else hugged me. I was being surrounded in hugs.

“You’ll be okay,” Timmy was whispering, “Joel’s going to be okay, too.”

Yeah. Everything was going to be okay. Because Joel had spoken tonight. Someone was telling me to keep crying, because crying was okay. To let all that pent up poison out. Someone else asked Timmy what he had given me. The world seemed to drop out from under me, and I realized Timmy had given me something more than a sedative. I could feel someone pick me up, carrying me.

“May have been too strong for him. How’s he been sleeping and eating?”

Darkness was clouding my mind.

But that was okay too. Because it was Joel holding my hand, his voice; broken, ragged and beautiful, saying, “I love you.”

---

I opened my eyes slowly. Things were a hazy blur, fuzzy in my head. I lay there quietly, listening to the murmur of voices in the background as the day caught up with me. The first thing I became aware of was that my headache had gone away. The second thing was that I was in my bed; a bedside lamp turned on revealed a glass of water on the stand next to it.

The last thing I realized when I turned over onto my back and looked toward the door was that I wasn’t alone, and it wasn’t Patrick lying in my bed. It was Ken sitting on my bed; his back was propped against two pillows and the headboard. His legs were stretched out toward the end of the bed, a pair of glasses I hadn’t seen him wearing before were perched on his nose as he quietly read some documents. I briefly wondered if he usually brought work to bed with him, and if he did, did Elizabeth get annoyed with it.

“Evening,” Ken said. He paused in his reading and looked at me. I could tell he was inspecting me to see how I was doing. I mumbled something back that wasn’t very coherent and sat up, grabbed the glass of water next to me and downed it.

“Evening,” I finally managed to get out as I turned back to Ken, likewise searching his face to see how he was feeling. Tonight’s confession rushed up on me and immediately set me on edge. I had to wonder if I was going to be kicked out for being a terrible person, and thoughts of having to leave began running through my mind. Not that I could blame them if they wanted me to go; I mean, I had broken my little brother, after all.

“Sorry,” Ken took me by surprise.

“Huh?” I asked, not comprehending. Ken apologizing to me was the last thing I had expected.

“I said I’m sorry, we’re all sorry…”

“So you’re not kicking me out then?” I blurted out, interrupting him. Began worrying again. Because Ken might have been apologizing to me because he was going to kick me out and I just hadn’t let him get that far yet.

Ken looked confused, but seemed to understand something of what was going through my head. “No, Micah…we’re not kicking you out. Why would you think we were going to kick you out?” he asked.

“Uh…I broke my little brother…”

“Just stop right there,” Ken interrupted me. He turned so he was facing me. “First off, you didn’t break your brother—”

I opened my mouth to speak but he held up his hand. “Wait…just, let me finish.”

I closed my mouth. Ken sighed and pulled his glasses off, rubbed at the bridge of his nose.

“We asked Timmy about that. He doesn’t think you…shaking your brother caused him to stop speaking. As he put it, there could be any number of reasons as to why Joel stopped speaking. Quite frankly, we may never know the reason why. But none of that matters now.”

I frowned. “How can you say that it doesn’t matter?” I whispered.

“Because it doesn’t. You feel guilty, and we can understand that, but you shouldn’t…this is harder than I thought it would be…” Ken mumbled as he looked at the wall behind me. I just watched as he chewed thoughtfully on his bottom lip.

“He’s still speaking,” Ken said suddenly. He had my full attention as soon as the words left his mouth. “It’s quiet, and strained, but if you give him time, and are patient with him, he’ll say something. Timmy says we have to give him time and can’t push him. He has to get better at his own pace. That’s why it…doesn’t matter. Because he’s going to get better, and, before you passed out, you kept saying sorry.”

I shook my head. “I’m still not sure sorry is good enough…it just…doesn’t make things right,” I whispered quietly.

Ken smiled at me. “Sure it does, because you’ve been taking care of him and yourself for the past five years. I think, and Timmy agrees with me, that you did it in part because you were sorry, and Joel knows that.”

I shook my head. “How can Joel possibly…”

“Because he’s not stupid, Micah, and in some ways he’s more mature and brighter than you, and me, and Elizabeth, hell, all of us. Some things we don’t grasp right away, he does. Because he listens, and he watches, and he wants you to stop blaming yourself.”

I didn’t know what to say to that. I wanted to change the topic. “Joel grounded me after I tried stealing River’s car, said it was wrong,” I mumbled, before I let out a small grin.

Ken gave me a look I didn’t like. “That’s another thing. Avery wants to talk to you about that, but seeing as I’m your lawyer, I told him he had to wait until I talked to you first.”

I frowned at that. “Isn’t that like…a conflict of…uhm, something?” I asked.

“Conflict of interest?” Ken asked.

I nodded. “Yah, that.”

He looked interested. “Where would you get that idea?” he asked.

I leaned over the side of my bed and pulled one of his books that I had been reading out from under it, showed it to him.

Ken looked surprised. I shrugged at him. “It helps me fall asleep,” I informed him.

“You haven’t been sleeping much lately, have you?” he asked.

“No, and…off topic,” I informed him, pushing him back toward the conversation.

“You first, why would you think it’s a conflict of interest?” he asked.

“Because you’re like my parent, aren’t you?” I asked. “Ehr, foster parent,” I corrected myself, slightly confused as to why I would call him my parent.

Despite my error Ken gave me a smile. “Yeah, I am,” he replied, “but I can still represent you and give you advice until we figure out how serious things are.”

“Oh…okay…Didn’t Patrick tell you?” I asked.

Ken shook his head. “What does Patrick know? And no, right now he’s being rather stubborn and tight-lipped about anything and everything you two have done today.”

I raised my eyebrow at that. “What’s he doing that for?” I was surprised. Patrick didn’t seem to have a problem with tattling on me.

“Because he knows that I know when he’s lying, and he doesn’t want to say anything that’ll get him, or you, in trouble,” Ken informed me, clearly amused.

I didn’t want to talk about stealing cars, I decided, I wanted to talk about Patrick, and I once more made sure Ken had my full attention. “How can you tell when Patrick’s lying?” I asked. Ken smiled at me. I wasn’t sure why, wasn’t even sure I cared. I just wanted him to answer the question.

“Off-topic,” he rebutted. I groaned and gave him my best glare, but after all the glaring I’d been doing today I wasn’t sure my heart was in it, because it didn’t even seem to faze him. He just patted my head. I refrained from leaning away from his touch and tried pouting at him instead, because it had worked on Elizabeth the other day.

He shook his head at me. “Sorry buddy, I’ve been to immune to that look since Reese turned twelve,” he informed me. “How about I make a deal with you? You tell me about stealing cars and I’ll tell you about Patrick,” he offered.

I thought about it a minute, not sure I wanted to tell him anything. But, I’d told Patrick, and I wanted to know about Patrick.

I sighed. “I was thirteen, and I fell in with a group of kids at school, most of them were older. Dad wasn’t home much,” I shifted, getting uncomfortable, and stopped talking. Tried to think about what Ken needed to know and what he didn’t.

“Is he…” a voice asked. I looked up and found Avery standing in my door; Timmy was peering at me with interest over Avery’s shoulder.

I gave a small wave. “We were just starting to talk about his…” Ken went silent. I think he didn’t want to call me a criminal to my face. I didn’t know why he was being so nice about it.

“Previous criminal activities,” I filled in for him. “You don’t have to be nice about it. River never was,” I informed Ken.

“Oh, I’ll…” Avery started to say.

“You can come in,” I told him.

“I don’t think that’s…”

“It’s okay. Really.” I told Ken.

Ken sighed, picked up the document he’d been reading and put his glasses on, thumbing back a few pages. His eyes scanned the document for a while before he finally put it down.

I fidgeted and looked over his shoulder, at the clock. I was surprised to find it was almost ten at night, because the sun had still been up when I’d gone for a not so willing nap, no matter how needed it had been.

“Okay,” he finally replied. Avery came in with Timmy and they sat down on the bed next to us.

I took a breath and resumed my tale. “Anyway, I was thirteen, almost fourteen and we were out of money, almost out of the home we’d been living in, and Dad had stopped coming home after work. I fell in with a group of older kids from school, and I was out with them at like three in the morning one night.”

Ken gave me a disapproving look at that. “Where was Joel?” he muttered but shut up when Timmy looked at him.

“Joel was at home, sleeping,” I informed him, “I wasn’t stupid enough, even back then, to bring him with me. Anyway, these kids thought it would be cool to hotwire a car; said they knew a few guys they could take the car to and get paid for it. I wasn’t cool with the idea at first, but we needed the money, so I stood out on the street and helped keep an eye out.”

I frowned, remembering that night. “Joel was awake when I got home, crying because he’d been by himself. That was the first time he’d cried since Mom died, and it scared the shit out of me because I just didn’t know what was wrong with him and he wouldn’t tell me.”

“Anyway, the second time was about two months later. Money from the first car had run out, and I made sure Joel was asleep before I went out. The guys I had been hanging with decided this would be my initiation into their group, so they’d been teaching me how to hotwire cars from a junkyard that wasn’t very far from where Joel and I, along with…Dad, were living at that point.”

“I didn’t get to do it though. Someone else decided they were going to do it because they wanted a bigger cut of the cash and since I was the youngest the others went along with it.” I scowled at the unfairness of it all. “Joel was awake when I got home,” I muttered, deciding to skip how upset Joel had been that time.

“The third time was on my fourteenth birthday. I thought Joel was asleep and I was determined to score a car by myself this time. So I went out and walked the wealthier neighborhoods by myself. I figured I’d just score a car and go get one of the guys; they could take me to the man with the cash. But…Joel hadn’t been asleep. He followed me and snuck up on me when I was trying to hotwire this old hot rod that looked like it would be a fun ride, scared the shit out of me.”

I shook my head. “He’d activated the flood-lights on the side of the house coming up the drive and I hadn’t noticed, until he was pouncing on me like we were playing a game.”

I fell quiet. “I pissed my pants,” I muttered, embarrassed.

Someone coughed, tried to stifle a laugh. I didn’t mind, it was kind of funny to think about.

“Then River got ahold of me and Joel just before we could run out of there. That’s when I shit myself.” More stifled laughter. I looked at Uncle Bryce, where he was standing in the doorway, trying to listen unobtrusively to my story. “He had a shotgun pointed at my face.”

That wiped the grins off everyone’s faces. “I thought he was going to use it too, but when he realized we were just kids, he cursed at me and told us to shut up and stop crying. That’s when I figured out who he was. He was my dad’s boss. My dad had just been hired on. Anyway, he ended up taking us home. Guess he knew my dad had problems and shit.”

Ken coughed. I ignored it, because it was my story and I was going to tell it the way I wanted to.

“He never called the police?” Avery asked. I shook my head.

“Did he do anything?” Ken asked.

I smiled, kind of. “Yeah, he put my ass to work. Said if my dad wasn’t going to do his job to keep my sorry ass out of trouble then he’d do it for him. He started giving my dad as many jobs as he could handle, and since Joel and I were in school he’d come get us during the weekends when my dad had to work and he’d take us to a site somewhere, hand me a broom and tell me to clean up after his crew. He said it was payback for breaking in his car window. He also let us work for a couple hours after school. That winter he gave Joel a wheelbarrow, me a hammer and put us to work with his crew. Since I was the smallest I could get into places others might not get into.” I fell quiet. “He was paying us in cash, on the side,” I mumbled.

“I think he only did it because he’d been in the house a few times and saw how bad it was. I really liked working for him. I learned a lot from him and the guys on sites. Spent as much time as I could with them, working my ass off, just to try and prove myself. He’d take us out to eat when he could. When Dad would get really drunk he wouldn’t ever fire him, just tell him to take a vacation, and this guy, we called him Red, but never to his face though, he taught me to fight one day when I came in with a black eye. Told me not to let people give me any shit, and then he started working out with me. Sometimes I’d go meet up with him just to work out.”

I realized just then how much I missed some of those people that I had worked with, how much River had done for Joel and me. “I spent so much time running back and forth with bricks, lifting cinder blocks, all cause Red said I was a scrawny little stick of a thing. It’s funny, too, cause he’s scrawnier then I am. You wouldn’t know how strong he was unless you wrestled around with him. I think River and Red were the only thing that kept our family together, well, as much as they could. I shook my head, tried to clear it. “They kept me sane. I spent all last summer working construction with them.”

“What happened to River?” Timmy asked.

“He died a couple of weeks before I ran away with Joel. His son took over River’s construction company and laid my dad and a bunch of people off. My dad went back on welfare, spent his last paycheck. I was almost relieved when I thought he had died, you know. It meant I was free of him,” I mumbled.

Ken gave me a small smile, looked like he was about to say something.

“What were you planning on doing when you ran away with Joel?” Timmy butted in. I suddenly realized what he was doing and narrowed my eyes at him.

Avery started laughing before I could say something. “He catches on quick, Timmy.” Timmy shrugged, looking unapologetic.

“Can’t blame him for trying,” Ken replied, giving me a smile of his own. “I think we’ve gotten more out of Micah tonight than we have since he’s come to live with us.” I decided to not take offense at that and just shrugged.

Ken handed Avery the document he’d been reading. “You should read that,” he said.

I looked at it curiously. “What’re you reading?” I asked, before I remembered something. “Wait, you said you’d tell me how you know when Patrick’s lying,” I reminded him.

“Bloody hell, don’t do that,” I heard Patrick say from somewhere in the hallway outside my bedroom, “you’ll take all the fun out of it.”

I stared at my door. “How many bloody people are out there?” I asked.

Ken got up and went to the door, where he peeked outside. “All of you downstairs,” he insisted. “It’s rude listening in on private conversations.”

I looked at the clock. Only twenty minutes had passed. “I should go cook dinner,” I said aloud to anyone who might be listening.

“We ordered pizza,” Reese said from somewhere out of sight.

“Oh… way to help out. I haven’t eaten all day and I’m hungry,” I hollered.

“I’ll bring you up a bloody plate,” I heard Patrick say, his voice farther away. I guess Ken had succeeded in herding everyone away from my bedroom door. Even Bryce left. Timmy was standing up too, just as Ken returned.

“That must have been why you went out the way you did,” Timmy said thoughtfully. “These are for you. I went out and got them when I was informed,” he glared at Ken, “that you were sleeping less and less.” He handed me a pill bottle. “If you need more just let me know. Make sure you only take one and get at least eight hours of sleep, if not more.”

I looked at the bottle, not quite catching on. “What’re they?”

“Sleeping pills and I’d like to speak with you more later on. But I think tomorrow I’m going to give you all the day off, so I’ll see you next week. I’m going to go check on Joel,” he said, and then he left.

“Check on Joel?” I looked at Ken. “I thought you said Joel was okay,” I said accusingly.

Ken smiled at me. “He is, you can check for yourself, if you want, but first I want to—”

“Patrick first,” I reminded him, before he could ask me another question.

Ken rolled his eyes. “He doesn’t look you in the eyes; it seems like he is but he isn’t. He’s usually staring just above your head, his ears turn red and his nose twitches, and he fidgets slightly. He’s the world’s worst liar, but if you really want to catch him out you have to be specific with your questions, otherwise he’s the most evasive little shit you’ll ever meet,” Ken said affectionately.

“…my nose twitches?” someone muttered beyond the door.

Ken rolled his eyes and opened the door. Patrick was standing there with his head turned, as if he’d had his ear at the door. I didn’t care about that. I leapt off the bed and grabbed for the plate that had been stacked full of pizza.

“Jeez, did you bring the whole box?” I asked, surprised. Realized I was being rude and…Patrick had been patient with me all day. He was eyeing my pizza too, like… “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it like that…eat it with me?” I asked.

Patrick’s belly didn’t disappoint me any. He sat down on the bed with me, holding something under his hoodie.

Another thought occurred to me. “My dad?” I looked up as I said this, found Ken watching me and Patrick.

“He’s gone, Micah.” Ken reassured me.

I nodded. “Good, let’s hope he stays that way,” I muttered, before I bit into my pizza.

“What do you think, Avery?” Ken asked, nodding at the document Avery had been reading.

“It looks like River took care of more than Micah realized,” he replied. He stood up and handed the document back to Ken. I chewed and swallowed my food. “I’d say there’s nothing worth worrying about,” Avery added. “G’night Micah,” he left the room.

“What’s he mean, River took care of more than I thought?” I asked.

Ken didn’t answer me. Just handed me the document; I read it slowly, at first. Then I read it again, comprehension slowly dawned on me. “He paid the people whose cars I’d helped steal?” I asked. At least, I think that’s what I was reading.

“Yup. In return they promised to not press any charges against you or the other boys. I assume you didn’t hang out with them any after your run in with River?” Ken asked.

I shook my head no. “Didn’t have time. River kept me busy,” I replied.

Ken nodded, looked satisfied with my answer. “Good, did you read the rest of it?” he asked.

I nodded. “I dunno what to…I mean that’s…” I frowned. “A lot to handle,” I whispered. Patrick looked curious; that didn’t stop him from putting another slice of pizza in my hand though. He seemed intent on making sure I was fed.

Ken nodded. “Basically…”

“I think I understand what it says, but…I don’t know…can you handle it for me?” I asked, “Cause I don’t know what I’m…”

Ken nodded, again. “I’ll make some calls in the morning and find out what I can, if you’re sure, that is,” he replied.

“I am,” I answered without thinking about it.

“Okay. I just need to read these other documents and I’ll talk to you about them later,” Ken said as he eyed the ones still sitting on my bed. He picked them up before I could look at them.

“Oh…what happened today?” he suddenly asked, looked at me expectantly.

I looked at him, not sure what he was talking about. I racked my brain carefully. I’d gotten my license; he knew about that. Gone to school, come home after grocery shopping. Ken knew that though, he’d been out there while I’d been fighting with my dad.

I backed up through my day carefully. School…Patrick’s car had been towed because I’d told the principal off and tried to hit him after he’d had Patrick’s car towed…

“I owe you a hundred and seventy-five bucks,” I mumbled.

Ken raised an eyebrow and looked at me and Patrick as Patrick jabbed me in the side, mumbling something I didn’t catch because his mouth was full.

“It’s not Patrick’s fault, either. I swear. It was mine. The only reason his car got towed was ‘cause I was an ass to the principal, but I swear that weasel-faced bastard started it. He had no right to have me searched or tell me to stop smoking, ‘cause I wasn’t even on school property,” I blurted out. “And Patrick’s car wasn’t even on school property when that ass had it towed, and I got mad, so I tried to hit him…”

Ken raised his hand, stopped me from talking.

“That I didn’t know about,” he informed me.

Oops.

“Was trying to tell you he wasn’t talking about that,” Patrick mumbled next to me.

“You shoulda told me sooner,” I hissed.

“When? You were passed out and I just got in here.”

“Uh-hum. I’m still here,” an unhappy Ken replied.

I cringed at the reminder, sure I was about to get it.

“Uhm…” I tried playing it off, “what were you talking about?”

“I meant with you skipping out on the band practice and missing part of Elizabeth’s class,” he informed me. “I thought you agreed to stop skipping, and Ben seemed kind of disappointed that you missed practice,” he replied.

Oh.

“Uhm…sorry. I must have had whatever Reese had for lunch,” I replied. Ken arched his eyebrow. “You said you didn’t eat anything today, so I’m going to pretend you’re not lying,” he said. It didn’t feel like he was that upset.

“I wasn’t having a good day,” I mumbled. “I mean, we established that, right? And I didn’t know other people knew about my birthday, if I had I would have skipped entirely, swear it. But people just kept coming up and saying happy birthday and leaving crap on my locker and it was pissing me off and I didn’t think it would be right if I took it out on the few friends I have and I was tired because I haven’t been sleeping and then Elizabeth woke me up from a nightmare I was having and…”

“Okay okay okay,” Ken stopped me. “We’ll just…leave it as a bad day and chalk one up to experience. But Micah, next time you decide you’re going to end up having a really bad day…do me a favor and let us know…please?”

I could agree to that.

“And we really are sorry,” Ken said, suddenly subdued.

That was the second time he had apologized to me tonight. “What’re you sorry for?” I asked, since I hadn’t let him tell me what he was apologizing for the first time.

Ken tried to smile at me. “We should have asked you if you wanted a birthday party rather than just assume you did. We shouldn’t have tried to surprise you. We just…”

“Didn’t know,” I mumbled. His apology reminded me that people had been here, and it looked like they had been ready to throw me a party, despite the mood I’d been in all day.

“I’m sorry, too. I just…perhaps should have told you?”

Ken nodded. “Perhaps. We’ll…uh…just keep working on this whole communication thing. Anyway, I’m going to go read the rest of these documents. You two try not to stay up too late,” Ken said. He left the room and shut the door behind him as he left.

I was alone. With Patrick.

“I’m sorry,” I mumbled, deciding he deserved an apology too.

Patrick just shrugged. “Shit happens Micah. We’re all still getting to know each other. Not everything is going to be perfect, you know,” he replied. He took a breath, like he was about to leap into a pond. “Fuck it, I got you a birthday present and I’m not taking it back,” he informed me. He pulled a bag out from under his hoodie and handed it to me.

I didn’t know what to say. Still wasn’t even sure I deserved to have a birthday present.

Patrick must have been a mind-reader. “I think you should open it,” he said quietly.

I was shaking my head. “Yes,” he demanded softly. “You should open it, because…because I heard what you said to your dad earlier, and I think it sucks that you haven’t celebrated your birthday in five years.”

I turned to look at Patrick, surprised by his sudden outburst.

“And you know what else, I think your mom would be upset to know how unhappy you have been, and I think she’d want you to celebrate your birthday, and I’m pretty sure…”

“Okay,” I gave in…because…I don’t know why, but I did, and I reached into the sack he’d given me and pulled out a thick black leather-bound book that had a silver spider-web emblem on it, with a little spider that had two ruby-red eyes clasping the book shut.

I stared at it. It looked like it had been expensive.

“Uh…I can’t take this, I don’t…”

He put his hand over my mouth and shut me up. I didn’t lick him this time.

“You can take it, and you do deserve it. Because it’s your birthday, and I wanted to get you something,” he told me, “and…here, it opens like this,” he twisted the little spider and the clasp released with a click. I opened it slowly, felt the leather binding the book.

All the pages were blank.

“It’s a journal,” he informed me proudly. “That way, if you want to remember a day you can write it down, or if you’re thinking about something and want to remember it later or Timmy asks you something and you don’t want to talk about it, or even if you just want to write about your mom and how much she meant to you, you can. You can write whatever you want.”

It was obvious he had placed a lot of thought into this. I wasn’t sure I’d use it. My handwriting was terrible, but… I felt like kissing him. I think that was the first thing I wanted to write in the journal he had given me, for my birthday.

I sighed. “Thanks…you guys really wanted to celebrate my birthday, didn’t you?” I asked.

Patrick nodded. “Yeah…and we’re sorry too, we hadn-” It was my turn to put my hand over his mouth.

“It’s okay. I think I may have…uhm…overreacted to everything today…and if you tell anyone that I’ll kill you.”

He licked my hand. Eww. It was totally slimey. I wanted his tongue somewhere else.

I was leaning forward to kiss him, his green eyes widening slightly when I pulled back, because a sound that I shouldn’t have been hearing was echoing loudly through the house.

“What is that?” I mumbled. I grabbed the now empty plate and, leaving my new journal on my bedside table next to the pills Timmy had given me, I walked out of my room and down the stairs. I hadn’t even made it to the bottom when I came to a complete stop.

Joel was lying on the floor, teasing a...

“Happy Birthday, Micah,” Patrick whispered.

… puppy. I turned and squinted at Patrick. “You got me a puppy?” I asked, surprised. I think I was blushing, because boys only did that for their girlfriends. I should have been the one who got him a puppy. “Do Ken and Elizabeth know?”

They had to have known, they were watching Joel play with the puppy. Uncle Bryce was taking pictures. Patrick followed me down the rest of the stairs and into the living room.

“I can take it back, if you want me to?” Patrick offered.

I shook my head. “I don’t think Joel would let you no matter how hard you tried.”

Joel saw me and ran up to me, gave me a hug. “C-c…” he tried. “Can we keep him, please?” he signed, looking excited and uncertain. He’d always wanted a pet.

“Uhm…yeah, if it’s okay with Elizabeth and Ken…but he’s yours, okay? That means you have to take care of him,” I told him, looked at Patrick to see if it was okay that I was giving his other present to me away. Patrick smiled at me and nodded. I think he understood that a part of me was still seeking Joel’s forgiveness.

Joel hugged me again and ran over to Elizabeth and Ken, signing rapidly. “He wants to know if he can keep him,” I said.

I saw the jealous look on Reese’s face. He was jealous because Elizabeth and Ken said yes and Reese had had to give up his cat for me.

“We’re calling him Cat-bait,” I informed Joel. Joel shook his head at me. “Yup. Have to follow tradition, after all. All pets have to have ridiculous names,” I argued with him. He rolled his eyes at me, but relented.

“C’mon, Cat-bait,”he signed, before clapping his hands on his thighs to get the puppy’s attention.

I felt horrible all of a sudden. “Uhm, I need a cigarette,” I mumbled. “Can you come with me,” I mumbled to Patrick, “I think I left them in your car.” Patrick did a double-take when he saw my face but nodded, followed me out the backdoor where I once more came to a complete stop.

“What the hell is that doing here?” I demanded, staring.

Ken’s head popped out the door, followed by the rest of his body as he looked where I was looking. I was staring at the large black truck that was still sitting in the driveway. Ken’s Ferrari and Elizabeth’s mini-van were parked behind it.

“Wait, did you get me a truck for my birthday?” I asked, deciding I was leaping to the wrong conclusion. I had thought my dad had driven it up here, but his truck, the one I had stolen, was gone. Perhaps he had taken a bus and then a taxi to get here. Ken was shaking his head no, though. “Then who…” I turned and looked at the truck again.

“Your dad drove it up here, Micah. He left it for you,” Ken answered.

Patrick decided to take a walk, probably because he didn’t want to see me explode again. He went to his car. I hoped he wasn’t leaving, because…

“I don’t want it,” I told Ken softly, looked at him. “Can we take it back, or trade it in?” I asked.

Ken shook his head. “No, we can’t, and we shouldn’t. Because…you know those other documents I wanted to look at?”

I nodded.

“One of them was your mom’s will, Micah, and she wanted you to have that on your sixteenth birthday,” he informed me.

I blinked. “How’s that even possible?”

“From what I’m understanding, and from what your dad said before he left, your mom had inherited money from her parents when they died, and she took all that money and set it aside for you and Joel in trust funds that your dad couldn’t touch, unless it was for a specific reason as had been outlined in her will or the trust documents,” he told me.

I felt a flash of dizziness rush through me after he said that, followed by anger and confusion. Mostly though, it was confusion. I sat down on the stairs abruptly.

“But…you mean…we had money all this time, and we were living in…couldn’t he have used the money to take care of us, and…”

Ken sat down next to me; put his arm around my shoulder. “Probably. But, grief can do terrible things to a person, and…I don’t know. I’m sorry, I just don’t know why your dad reacted the way he did.”

I could understand that. Because I didn’t know, either.

“Anyway, your dad has given us control of the trust accounts, for now. He said there was no reason for his kids to be living off the state when, and I quote “they have money,” end quote.”

“So…how much money is there?” I asked, curious. Patrick came back with my pack of cigarettes and scrutinized me as I lit one up. “I’ll come back later,” he mumbled.

“Stay… please?” I asked, looking at him, as he looked back at the pack of cigarettes I was holding.

Ken answered my question while I had a silent argument with Patrick using my eyes. “Enough for you and Joel to both go to college when you’re old enough,” he informed me. “And more than enough for your dad to fulfill your mom’s wishes, regarding you on your sixteenth birthday. Joel gets a vehicle, too, when he turns sixteen,” Ken added.

“Oh.” I still wanted to take the vehicle back.

“So…don’t think of it as a gift from your dad. Think of as a gift from your mother, instead,” Patrick blurted out.

Ken nodded. “Sorry Micah, but I’m with Patrick on this one…but I won’t make you keep it if you really don’t want to.”

I chewed on my bottom lip. “My mom really wanted me to have it for my birthday?”

“Yeah, she did,” Ken replied. “You can see her will, if you want.”

I shook my head, decided I wasn’t ready for that, yet. I was tired of thinking about her death, and death in general. It occurred to me that, perhaps I had a morbid fascination with it, and on my birthday, no less, and a conversation I’d had with Avery started repeating itself in my head, telling me I was stuck.

Plus I was tired of being stuck. I’d decided that. Yet I was repeating the same pattern on my birthday that I had repeated since I’d been eleven.

I shook my head, disgruntled with myself, and answered Ken’s question. “No, that’s okay…I don’t think I’m ready for that.” I looked at the truck. “I’ll keep it,” I mumbled. Patrick looked like he approved. It immediately made me feel better about my decision.

“Okay, I’ll get insurance on it, and tomorrow I’ll stop and get plates, which you have to pay for, by the way. I’ll go get the title for you to sign,” Ken said as he stood up. He was back out a second later, handing me a pen and a piece of paper that I signed, hardly looking at it as I did so.

Ken let out a yawn and said he was beat, that he and everyone else were going to bed. I guess Joel was out front with Reese watching the puppy, Cat-bait, use a tree. We were told to not stay up too late. I was also reminded to use the sleeping pills I had been given if I needed them.

I just nodded my head at all this and waited patiently for him to go inside.

Patrick sat down next to me. It had stopped raining; the stars were twinkling in the night sky.

“Patrick, I need a favor,” I mumbled, barely aware of sliding my hand into his as I found the North Star. My mom had taught me a little astronomy when I was younger. I smiled slightly at the memory

He seemed distracted. “Hrm?”

“I need Reese’s cat back,” I told him.

Patrick frowned. “I thought you were aller…”

I shook my head at him. “I’m not…I was an asshole, and I’m sorry, and I’ll apologize left and right to Reese. But, I need his cat back.”

Patrick slugged me in the shoulder, looking angry. I winced, “I’m sorry,” I muttered again.

“Yeah, me too,” he scowled, “because his bloody cat escaped the day after I took it home and I haven’t found the bloody thing yet.”

“I…you…uh…what?” I couldn’t seem to get a complete sentence out, could only stare at Patrick with wide eyes. “You’re in so much trouble,” was the only thing I could think to say.

“How the bloody hell am I in trouble? I wouldn’t have lost his bloody pussy if you hadn’t…”

“You lost his bloody pussy,” I repeated. Then I had the nerve to giggle. Patrick stopped talking and stared at me. I shook my head and leaned into him. I think I hugged him.

“Oh brother,” I mumbled, wiped at my eyes. “Well mate,” I mimicked Patrick’s accent, “I think we’re just going to have to find his bloody pussy, or get him a new one.” I giggled again. Patrick slugged me in the arm again, let loose his own giggle.

“I need another favor,” I announced suddenly. I was afraid Patrick might say no to this one, actually, I was hoping he would, but…I hadn’t been very fair to anyone, and I owed a lot more people an apology.

“What’s that?” he asked.

“I need you to call Ben and the girls and anyone else who had been invited to my party earlier and tell them to come over,” I said.

Patrick really did look at me like I was losing my mind this time. “It’s almost midnight, Micah. What the hell do you need ‘em to come over for?” he asked.

I smiled reassuringly at him. “Don’t you know it’s my birthday.” I bumped into his shoulder lightly with mine, held his hand a bit tighter. “It wouldn’t be a proper birthday if we didn’t have a birthday party.”

Patrick flashed his teeth at me, grinning. “Alrighty then, that’s the spirit!” He looked like he wanted to cheer.

I took another breath. “But first I need you to tell me what’s going on with Reese and those boys at school,” I said as he stood up to get his cellphone out of his pocket. Patrick stopped smiling.

“Please,” I begged. It felt different, begging for something. I wasn’t used to doing it. Patrick sat back down and opened his phone, stared at it as he started texting a message.

“He’s being bullied. Has been since the start of the school year,” Patrick replied, agitated. “And he’s not the only one; some of the football team has been following me when I go to pick Joel up with Reese and Ben, and nobody will do a bloody damn thing about it, and Reese doesn’t want to tell his parents, and Joel doesn’t want to tell you, and Ben just tries to shrug the whole thing off, but it’s getting to him. I can tell, because he drinks far more than he ever did, and the bloody bastards are starting to take the entire thing too far, and I just want…”

I squeezed Patrick’s hand; sorry I’d brought up the entire thing. Actually, I wasn’t. Because…they should have told me.

I looked at the North Star again.

“Everything’s going to be okay,” I mumbled.

“Why’s that? Because you got a car?” he asked.

“Truck,” I corrected. “And no, it’s because…it’s my birthday, and I’ve been acting like an ass, and I’m sorry.”

Patrick’s phone lit up and he read the text message that came through. “The girls are at Ben’s. They said to come pick them up. They want to know if they can bring their instruments. Uncle Bryce wants to know where we’re having the party at,” Patrick said.

I considered this, pointed into the distance at the house I’d been working on. “In there, and yeah, they can bring any instruments they want. We can make up for the practice I missed out on earlier,” I said.

Patrick nodded, his phone lit up again. “Uncle Bryce says he’ll stop and get Ben and the girls.”

His phone lit up again. Patrick rolled his eyes. “Ben said he’ll make some calls,” he added.

I released a soft, contented sigh and just listened as Patrick kept relaying the messages coming through on his phone. But nothing was getting done.

I stood up, became aware that I was holding Patrick’s hand. I let it go. He stopped relaying messages to me and looked at me. “C’mon,” I whispered, “we have to move a bunch of stuff and get things set up for a party.”

---

“This place is creepy at night,” Patrick remarked as he followed me across the field to the house.

I could understand that feeling. I swear I saw someone looking at us from one of the upper windows. But that was impossible, because everyone was in bed. I shook my head and decided it was just my overactive imagination.

“Be quiet,” someone hissed, “you’re going to wake everyone up.”

“That’s the point,” I remarked just as someone, probably Lissa, dropped their cymbals. I jumped.

“Be quiet!” we all hissed.

“Fuck it! You need to make a path to this place, Micah,” Patrick whispered as he ran into my shoulder, stumbling slightly.

I thought about it, momentarily. Patrick was right. Any path that had once led to this place had long since been overgrown with weeds and grass. It was like the house had just been plopped down from the sky out of nowhere.

But I knew that wasn’t the case. Ken said he owned the place, too. It had come with the property when he had bought it.

“Okay. That’ll be the next project. You can tear out the bathroom,” I informed Patrick.

“Why do I get to the tear out the bathroom?” Patrick asked.

“Because I want you to,” I said.

We reached the front porch and carefully stepped onto its sagging frame. I opened the double-wide doors and said, “Voila! Party house.”

“This place is so cool,” Ben muttered. I eyed the pajama bottoms he was still wearing: they had SpongeBob Square-pants imprinted on them. His muscle-shirt wasn’t much better. Stewie from “Family Guy” was plastered on the front, and Ben didn’t have many muscles, that I could see. Hell, I’ll even admit he was slightly girlish, but not in a soft sort of way. He actually looked rather toned, as best as I could tell, and I could tell, because I was currently looking at his bare stomach, considering his shirt had been pulled up so he could scratch at his belly.

Patrick nudged my shoulder and glared at me when I looked at him. “What?” I asked, wanting to get back to admiring Ben’s belly-button.

Patrick smirked. “Nothing,” he mumbled. I went back to admiring Ben’s stomach; well, I tried to. Ben had dropped his shirt. I scowled at Patrick, wanted to kick the innocent look on his face right off. But we were supposed to be celebrating.

“I thought you’d been in here before?” I asked Ben.

Ben shook his head. “Nope, just been outside. We were too scared to come in here, and anyone that did come in here didn’t stay for long. They swore the place was haunted.” Ben shivered.

I rolled my eyes. “It’s haunted,” I responded, “I hear ghosts roaming around in there all the time. We’ll be okay, though. They’re mostly interested in naked boys…”

Patrick nudged me in the side. I grinned at the look of fear on Ben’s face before he started laughing at me. I smirked. “I’m serious,” I informed Ben.

“Hey, that looks awesome. You guys did a good job,” Stacey interrupted.

I looked into the ballroom and shrugged. “Just tearing down walls. It’s easy,” I replied

She rolled her eyes at me. “I meant cleaning up the mess you made. I wasn’t sure about having a party here,” she replied.

I mock-gasped at her. “Stacey, you sound like you don’t believe boys are capable of cleaning up after themselves,” I mocked.

Lissa smacked my ass. “You aren’t, you dirteh dirteh boy.” She blew me a kiss.

I laughed and gestured them into the ballroom. “After you, ladies.”

“Why thank you,” Ben said as he danced his way past the doors, twirling and swirling in his pajamas like a ballerina.

I grinned. Stacey and Lissa rolled their eyes and walked after him. I waited for Patrick to follow after them but he didn’t. “After you,” he remarked, smiled at me. I rolled my eyes. I’d show him who the girl was. Someday.

“Where are we setting up at?”

“In front of the fireplace,” I replied. I opened the double-doors leading into the dining room, revealing the chairs that I had placed carefully around the table. The cake that I had found in the kitchen, untouched, was sitting on the table. The ‘16’ candle was carefully set into it. I decided to ignore the goat chasing a frog design, since it was the thought that counted, you know. All the poster-boards that had been put on my locker that I had taken down were taped to the wall; and the “Happy Birthday, Micah” sign was hung from the ceiling, glittering in the light of the chandelier.

It had taken me five minutes to sweep up the room and dust down the long wooden table. I thought it looked nice. Patrick had even found the presents that had been bought for me and sat them on the table, near the cake. They were all still wrapped, just waiting to be opened.

As soon as everyone who had been invited got here, that is.

“We’re all set up,” Lissa shouted as she started banging on her drums. I grabbed my electric guitar and found the microphone stands someone had carried in. There were far more people than I had originally expected there to be. Apparently Ben hadn’t been messing around when he said he’d make a few phone calls. I was just glad no one had brought alcohol, and many of these folk looked like they were old enough to drink and then some. I could see Ken finding a bus to rent and hauling the whole lot of us to an AA meeting. I think it helped too that Uncle Bryce was standing guard at Patrick’s house, informing anyone who came how to get to the house and telling them “no alcohol.”

In fact, it looked like…

“Patrick, aren’t most of these folks related to you?” I asked.

“Yup, the Rhys clan never turns down a chance to party,” he remarked.

I grinned at him. “You should make that phone call now,” I told him. I turned up the huge amp someone had said came from the opera house and plugged my guitar into it, struck a few chords and started playing a riff like no one’s business. To my surprise Lissa joined in a few seconds later, someone from Patrick’s family found Reese’s electric guitar and started playing too. It wasn’t long before we had a full blown band.

I kept my eyes on Patrick though, where he was standing in a corner, one ear plugged up while he talked on the phone.

He held his phone out to us.

I decided that was my cue to start singing.

You say it's your birthday
It's my birthday too, yeah
They say it's your birthday
We're gonna have a good time
I'm glad it's your birthday
Happy birthday to you.

People started clapping along in time as Lissa came to her drum solo. I started clapping along in time as well as the other guitar players standing next to me.
Yes we're going to a party party
Yes we're going to a party party
Yes we're going to a party party

Patrick put the phone back to his ear and then looked at it a second later. He shut it and stuck it in his pocket, then gave me two-thumbs up. I smiled and waved him over, wanting him to sing with me. As far as I was concerned this was his fault.

He shook his head. I nodded mine at him. Someone pushed him forward and finally he complied, running up to stand next to me to sing in the microphone I was using.

I would like you to dance (Birthday)
Take a cha-cha-cha-chance (Birthday)
I would like you to dance (Birthday)
Dance

You say it's your birthday
Well it's my birthday too, yeah
You say it's your birthday
We're gonna have a good time
I'm glad it's your birthday
Happy birthday to you.

Elizabeth, Ken, Joel and Reese came in just as we were finishing, looking slightly surprised. I was surprised because Patrick’s grandparents came in with them. I hadn’t expected that. I don’t think he did either because he looked just as surprised as I did.

I waved, a bit disconcerted, even though it looked like a majority of the guests were Patrick’s relatives.

“’appy Birthday,” someone shouted.

“What’re you doing?” Elizabeth asked.

Stacey started playing a song on the keyboards, one I vaguely recognized from some 80s flick. I turned and looked at her as Patrick pointed into the dining room, looking just as please as he had early.

Stacey started singing.

Happy birthday
happy birthday -
Happy birthday
happy birthday -
Happy birthday
happy birthday.

Lissa started pounding on her drums and about then I remembered the guitar chords for the song and joined in. I guess Patrick’s family knew the song because they started singing along. Everyone except for Elizabeth and Ken. They were talking to Patrick’s grandparents and Bryce, while looking around the place. Other people started dancing.

Happy
happy birthday in a hot bath
To those nice
nice nights.
I remember always
always I got such a fright.
Seeing them in my dark cupboard with my great big cake.
If they were me…

It wasn’t much, but I could appreciate the clapping and whistling that echoed through the house.

“Alright, Bach! We’re here to celebrate your birthday, now get down ‘ere and mingle. Somebody get up there and take over the singin’,” Patrick’s grandpa hollered.

I was hesitant at first. “Better do what he says,” Patrick mumbled, “otherwise he’s gonna be cranky…”

I decided to make Patrick’s life easier, since he had done more than I could have possibly asked from him today.

Ben ran up. “I’ll sing,” he said, grinning. I could smell alcohol on his breath and looked at him, curious. He leaned into me and whispered into my ear, “It’s all in the fridge. A few of us managed to sneak it past Bryce, and don’t worry, I’ll keep my clothes on. For now, anyway.”

I thought about it and decided to trust him, because, well, he was a friend, and I hadn’t really seen him get drunk, even at the last, and only, party that I had gone too.

“Ok,” I mumbled. Reese ran up, looking like he wanted to take my guitar.

I felt a little bit squeamish about it but let him take it; I was pretty sure that by now he knew how important it was to me. He’d take care of it.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” Ben suddenly announced, lowering his voice considerably, “I now present you with a game of….Arena Karaoke! First up is…Uncle Bryce!”

“Hell no,” I heard Bryce mutter.

“Get up there, boy,” Patrick’s Grandpa, Dafydd, ordered.

“I’m twenty-seven years old, I don’t think I’m a boy anymore,” Bryce groaned out but went anyway. “You’re dead, Ben, absolutely dead.”

Ben snickered.

I followed Patrick as he led me around, introducing me to his family, and I have to tell you, his family was extensive. I don’t think I’d ever met such an extensive family before. There were at least 13 kids from Dafydd and his wife in total. Many of them had children of their own. Patrick was the eldest grandchild. I was thinking it was a good thing that there weren’t any great-grandchildren yet, though it looked like one girl was trying to give Patrick’s grandparents great-grandchildren. She turned out to be one of Patrick’s aunts, and was only eighteen; one year older than Patrick himself was.

I was shaking my head, dazed and confused, when the flow of people stopped. “How do you remember all their names? I don’t even remember the aunt you just introduced me too,” I remarked, just as Ben called on another person. I eyed him, slightly jealous because he somehow managed to remember everyone’s names. “And how does he do that?” I asked. Patrick looked questioningly at me. “Remember everyone’s names?” I clarified.

“Ben’s known my family for years, same as Reese,” Patrick remarked. “And that’s my Aunt Anwen,” he reminded me.

“That’s right. An An An…”

Patrick laughed at me. I’d been shortening people’s names all night in an effort to remember something about them.

“She’s gonna pop soon, huh?” I asked.

Patrick looked at me, confused. “She’s pregnant,” I informed him, as if it wasn’t obvious.

Patrick grinned, “Well duh.” I smacked his arm.

“Her wedding is in less than a month. Grandpa insists that she get married before the baby comes,” Patrick remarked. Something in his tone had me looking at Patrick carefully. “What’s wrong?” I asked him.

Patrick gave me a rueful grin. “I’m the only bastard in the family, Micah,” he remarked. He was trying to be cool about it, but even I could see how hurt he was by that fact. I shook my head at him, “You’re not a bastard,” I informed him, serious. “And even if you were, I think I might like you.”

Someone grabbed hold of me and Patrick then. It was Ben, wrapping his arms around our necks and putting us in headlocks. “C’mon you two, you’re looking way too serious. I think we need a break,” he remarked, marching forward before letting us go with a laugh. “Tickling isn’t a fair fight,” he said, glaring at Patrick.

Patrick gave him a small smile. “Neither is sneaking up on us,” he informed Ben. Ben just shrugged and grinned. “Surrender or I shall be forced to take my clothes off, ghost or no ghost.”

I gave a mock gasp. “Oh, the horrors that that would bring upon us all. We better give in,” I told Patrick.

Patrick nodded, looking serious as Ben placed his arms in ours and marched us forward. I waved at Elizabeth when I saw her dancing with Ken and continued to the kitchen.

Ben had just poured three shot glasses of a dark liquid from a green bottle when the door leading into the kitchen swung open. I spun around, startled and more than ready to have a heart attack. “Here you three are,” Reese remarked, innocently.

“You shouldn’t scare people like that,” I informed him. Reese just grinned at me.

“Pour me one too, and just so you know, Mom and Dad want presents opened and the cake cut soon. It’s almost 2 a.m. and we still have school in the morning.”

I nodded and looked at Reese carefully, because I wanted to say something, and after today’s experience with the principal I found myself slightly reluctant to do so, because my mouth seemed to get me in more trouble than I knew what to do with.

“Shot?” Ben asked.

“Just one,” Reese replied.

Ben poured a fourth shot and we tapped our shot glasses together. “Cheers,” Patrick toasted.

I downed my shot and made a face. “Blech, what is that?”

“Jaegar,” Ben, Patrick and Reese chorused, their faces wrinkling up as much as mine had. Patrick wiped his arm across his mouth. Reese wiped his mouth on Ben’s shirt.

“Disgusting,” I muttered.

“Let’s go open presents,” I said a second later.

“I’ll make the announcement,” Ben said, shoving the green bottle back in the freezer before he shot out the door.

I stopped Reese before he could follow Ben. “Hey Reese?”

Patrick followed Ben after I matched his stare. “Yeah?” Reese said.

I smiled at the younger boy. “Thanks.”

Reese looked confused as to why I was thanking him but shrugged. “You’re welcome. Now c’mon! I want cake, and you’re holding it up!”

I laughed and followed after him, joined Ben in the dining room as he stood on a chair and whistled so loudly he cut everyone off.

“Presents!” he shouted.

Many presents there were, too. More than I had expected, but Patrick later explained that his family liked to stock up on presents when they could, because there were so many of them and if they forgot someone’s birthday it just took one reminder and they had a pile to choose from, not to mention the fact that they seemed to have the remarkable ability of being able to organize a party in next to no time. That explained the stuffed teddy bear I got, along with the happy 6^th birthday card that came with it. I guess more than one child had had their birthday forgotten by the Rhys clan, and it was usually Grandma or Grandpa that remembered every single birthday and reminded everyone.

I was sitting on the sagging front porch with Patrick, Ben and Reese, eating more cake when Elizabeth and Ken came out. Most people had left already, seeing as it was after two in the morning and they either had work or school to get to.

“We’re going back to bed,” Ken said, carrying a sleeping Joel in his arms. “Try to end this soon, please, since you all still have school in the morning,” he added, letting out a yawn of his own.

I nodded.

Ken smiled at me. “Happy birthday, Micah,” he said, before taking off across the grass field, Joel’s head resting on his shoulder.

Elizabeth held back though, smiling at Joel and Ken.

“Happy birthday Micah,” she mumbled.

“Thanks…and thank you for the new guitar. It’s beautiful,” I told her.

She nodded and gestured for Ben to scoot over so she could sit next to me. I was surprised when she suddenly hugged me.

“I’m so glad you had fun. I didn’t think you knew how to be a kid anymore,” she whispered into my ear before she tightened her grip on me briefly, squeezed before letting go.

She saved me the embarrassment of having to respond to that, because I didn’t even know what to say, by saying, “You’re staying the night, Ben, and if you even think about saying no I’ll call your mother. I know you’ve been drinking.”

I looked at Ben; his eyes were wide, ‘Busted’ written all over his face.

“She’s not home,” he informed Elizabeth.

Elizabeth scowled. “Where’s she at?”

Ben sighed. “Arizona. She’s on a business trip,” he mumbled.

Elizabeth shook her head, looked ready to say something.

“It’s not that bad,” Ben mumbled, “She’s not away on trips near as much as she was. She thought I was old enough to stay by myself until she got back. She’s only supposed to be gone for another week or so, and she made sure there was plenty of food in the house before she left on her business trip.”

“When’s she due back?” Elizabeth asked.

“Next Saturday,” Ben replied, misery written all over his face.

“I’ll call your mom in the morning. You’re staying here tonight, and any other night when she’s out of town, just like before,” Elizabeth answered.

“K,” Ben answered, something like relief coming over his face. I had to wonder what this was all about, except I was too happy thanking anything that would listen that I hadn’t been busted drinking.

“What about Lissa and Stacey?” Ben suddenly asked, something like panic on his face, “They were supposed to stay with me tonight.”

Elizabeth shook her head. “Bryce already took the girls home. They were sleeping on the stairs,” she informed us.

I snickered. That could not have been comfortable.

Elizabeth looked at me. “And you make sure you get to bed soon, mister, and no more alcohol.”

My eyes went wide. “How the hell did you know I’d had a shot?” I asked, too surprised to deny it.

Elizabeth smirked at me. “I’m a parent. Parents know these things,” she informed me.

My mouth opened into an ‘o’.

“You’re not gonna tell Dad, are you?” Reese asked, worried.

Elizabeth shook her head. “You’re not shitfaced, and as long as you don’t drive I won’t worry about it. Just make sure it stays that way,” she told the three of us. “And…if that changes, you better make sure you call me if you need a ride, otherwise you’re all going to be in a world of hurt,” she threatened.

I decided to take her seriously.

“Good night boys,” Elizabeth said, stood up and wandered back toward the other house.

“Your mom is so cool,” I told Reese. He gave me a funny look.

“Totally,” Ben agreed. Patrick nodded.

“Hey, what’d she mean by ‘just like before’?” I asked.

Ben smiled. “I used to stay here a lot when I was younger. After Mom and Dad divorced, Mom worked a lot and she would end up having to go out of town for days at a time. It was too much trouble for Dad to get me on the ferry from Seattle to Silverdale, considering he himself had to work, not that he didn’t try because he did; but I was late to school more often than not. So after a few complaints from school Mom decided to give Elizabeth, since she was the nearest neighbor and I was always over there, some papers to act as my guardian when Mom was out of town, and I’d just stay over there. I even had my own room. I think you’re sleeping in it now.”

“Oh…sorry.”

Ben laughed. “Don’t be, I mean, I loved that room, but I rarely slept in there…I don’t like being alone.”

He looked at Reese. “I’m sleeping with you tonight,” he informed the younger boy.

Reese rolled his eyes. “Of course you are.”

My plate was empty, I realized. I stood up. “Where you going?” someone asked. I pointed inside. “In there. Elizabeth got me a new guitar, and I want to play it,” I announced.

I found the guitar with its red bow wrapped neatly around it and carried it into the ballroom and plugged it into the amp. It was even a left-handed guitar. That made me smile. I was almost sure she’d gotten me a right-handed guitar, but she must have remembered me telling her that Reese was left-handed, just like me. It made me feel special.

Grandma and Grandpa Rhys and a few others were still hanging about, idly chatting. Someone had even pulled out beer. I grabbed one on my way up to the makeshift stage near the fireplace, ignoring someone’s objection as Ben brought out whatever alcohol was in the fridge and plopped it down, too. Heck, even Patrick grabbed a beer. Apparently all appearances of not drinking were over.

“What shall we play?” Ben asked as he poured another round of shots.

I shrugged. “I don’t know. We don’t have a drummer, a piano player or a ba-…” Reese pulled out his bass guitar and ran chords to the amp. “…drummer or piano player,” I said.

“I’ll handle drums,” Ben announced. I looked askance at him. He just shrugged. “I like dancing, singing when I’m drunk, and I’m a natural when it comes to playing with sticks…besides, Lissa’s been teaching me, and she’s got this most amazing technique…”

I snickered. “Okay…get over there,” I muttered. Ben grinned but shook his head, walking over to a pile of music sheets, where he promptly pulled one out. Patrick and Reese wondered over to him. I got busy tuning my guitar, and it was just as I finished tuning it that I realized Patrick was arguing with Ben over whatever had been pulled.

“What’re we playing?” I asked, interrupting them.

“Uh…” Ben stuttered, looking sideways at Patrick who was shaking his head. “We’re selecting a new one,” he informed me.

I grabbed hold of the sheet of music and pulled it from Ben’s grasp, looked at it.

I could understand why they wanted to select a new music, but, it wasn’t my birthday anymore. That had been yesterday; I’d had a great birthday party, and today was a new day.

“This one’s fine,” I smiled at them.

Patrick shook his head at me though. “I want to do this one,” he informed me. I looked at the music sheet he was holding and shook my head. “I don’t like country,” I informed him.

“Please?” he begged

I sighed and unplugged my guitar, grabbed my mom’s acoustic. “Fine,” I mumbled. “C’mon Grandpa, you’re up. You and Patrick get to do a duet,” I hollered, looking at Dafydd.

Patrick looked startled. “What’re you doing?”

“Your grandpa hasn’t sung at all,” I informed Patrick.

Dafydd didn’t look happy either, the way he was speaking quietly with his wife.

“C’mon,” I grumbled, started twanging my guitar. Grandma was apparently of the same opinion as me, because she and several others in Patrick’s family were prodding Dafydd forward until he finally got to the makeshift stage.

I started playing the acoustic and Patrick started singing, sounding pretty country if you asked me.

Gonna put the world away for a minute
Pretend I don't live in it
Sunshine gonna wash my blues away

Had sweet love but I lost it
She got too close so I fought her
Now I'm lost in the world trying to find me a better way

Grandma came up and started playing the keyboard; only I guess she figured out how to change the settings on it because it came out sounding more like an organ.
Wishing I was knee deep in the water somewhere
Got the blue sky breeze and it don't seem fair
Only worry in the world is the tide gonna reach my chair
Sunrise there's a fire in the sky
Never been so happy
Never felt so high
And I think I might have found me my own kind of paradise

“Wrote a note said be back in a minute,” Dafydd started singing,

Bought a boat and I sailed off in it
Don't think anybody gonna miss me anyway
Mind on a permanent vacation
The ocean is my only medication
Wishing my condition ain't ever gonna go away

Patrick joined in on the next verse. They sounded pretty good together, if you asked me. I smiled and joined in on the backup chorus with Ben.
Knee deep in the water somewhere
Got the blue sky breeze blowing wind through my hair
Only worry in the world is the tide gonna reach my chair
Sunrise there's a fire in the sky
Never been so happy
Never felt so high
And I think I might have found me my own kind of paradise

Come on in the water it's nice
Find yourself a little slice
Grab a backpack of lies
You never know until you try
When you lose yourself
You find the key to paradise

“Woot!” I hollered. “You guys are awesome. Let’s do another one, uhm…” I ran over to the pile of sheets and, cheating, turned them face upward and went through them until I found one.

“We’ll do this one.” I waved the sheet music around in the air. Patrick grabbed it from me and rolled his eyes, but passed it out anyway.

Dafydd shook his head and smiled at us. “No Bach, we don’t have all the instruments needed for this, and it’s late. I got a farm to run, you know.”

I groaned,“Aww, no fun,” and pouted at him. But he didn’t look like he was going to give in any. “Alright, alright,” I gave in, instead. “We’ll do that last one then and call it a night,” I mumbled.

Patrick shook his head. I turned my pout on him. He rolled his eyes and passed out the sheets of music that had originally been selected.

I hooked my electric guitar back up. “Shots,” Ben hollered. I joined him and Reese and together we took a shot. When I turned around Patrick was wearing my mom’s acoustic guitar, strumming it gently as he studied the music.

“You play guitar?” I asked, startled.

Patrick shrugged. “Some, I’m not very good, but I think I can play this,” he replied.

“Oh. Okay. Let’s do it then.”

Patrick shook head though. “We really don’t have to do this one, you know,” he murmured.

I rolled my eyes at him. “It’s a song, Patrick. Besides, Good Charlotte is awesome,” I informed him.

Patrick sighed but started strumming his part. I closed my eyes and started singing, barely aware of Patrick joining his voice in with mine at certain parts.

Hey dad
I’m writing to you
Not to tell you
That I still hate you
Just to ask you
How you feel
And how we fell apart
How this fell apart

Are you happy out there
In this great wide world
Do you think about your sons
Do you miss your little girl
When you lay your head down
How do you sleep at night
Do you even wonder if we’re alright
But we’re alright
We’re alright

I strummed the new guitar Elizabeth got me as the song ended, let out a sigh.

“That was…just awesome,” someone mumbled.

“It was, indeed. Let’s call it a night, everyone,” Grandma murmured. “You staying the night or coming home tonight, Patrick?”

“Wit’ them,” Patrick answered. Grandma nodded and left with the rest of her clan, minus Patrick. I grabbed my presents and placed them in the laundry basket someone had brought from somewhere. Patrick and Ben helped by packing up my guitars and very carefully picking them up. I know because I was watching them intently. If a scratch so much as even made an appearance, I was more than willing and ready to beat the crap out of someone. But, Patrick already knew that, because he just grinned at me.

It was then that I realized I had let Patrick play my mom’s acoustic guitar with no outburst on my part. My stomach felt funny.

Reese shut lights off and together we slowly made our way back to the Windleton’s house. “That was nice of your grandma to let you stay on a school night,” I told Patrick.

Patrick shrugged. “I think she did it because she knows I prefer it over here. There are just too many bloody people at my grandparents’ house right now.”

“Why are all those people at your house?”

Patrick grinned. “Half of em still live at home and the other half are coming in for Aunt Anwen’s wedding,” he reminded me. I had forgotten. He’d said something about that before.

“Cool. Am I invited?” I asked, teasingly.

Patrick rolled his eyes. “Of course you’re bloody invited. You and Reese’s band are part of the entertainment,” he informed me. I blinked, startled. “That’s what you’ve been rehearsing for in the afternoons,” he informed me. I turned and looked at Reese. He hadn’t told me that. Reese just shrugged.

I groaned. I was going to a wedding. “I’m gonna have to find a tux,” I muttered.

Patrick shook his head. “Nah, wear the suit Avery gave you,” he told me.

“Is that going to be okay?” I asked Patrick.

“Yeah. The only bloody people that are going to end up in a monkey suit are me and my family, everyone else is just semi-formal.”

“Cool.” I said as we got to the house. Ben and Reese went to bed after they helped carry everything into my bedroom. Patrick stripped out of his clothes and crawled into my bed after he came in carrying a glass of water. I eyed his tight briefs and the way they clung to his ass just before he got under the covers.

He fluffed one of the pillows up and turned, obviously waiting for me. “Hey, I’ll be right back,” I said. He looked curious but didn’t ask where I was going. I went into Joel’s room and quietly approached the bed. I could just barely make him out in the dark.

I shook Joel lightly as I leaned over him. He sat up and rubbed at his eyes before he looked at me. I could barely make out his handsigns, “Is everything okay?” he asked.

“Yeah,” I whispered. “Hey, Joel…Say it again for me, please?”

Joel cocked his head to the side, flopped back onto his pillow.

“Say what?”

I leaned forward and kissed him on his forehead. “I love you,” I mumbled.

Joel smiled, figured out what I wanted from him. He smacked me in the forehead gently. I waited. I wanted to hear him to say it.

“Love you,” he mumbled, closed his eyes and rolled over. I guess sleep was more important to him than me bothering him at three in the morning.

But that was okay, because he’d been the perfect birthday present.

I closed his door behind me and went back to my room. Patrick was still sitting up in bed, waiting for me with a small blue pill that he made me swallow before he let me lay down. I grimaced at the awful taste as it dissolved in my mouth and crawled in next to him.

“Good night, Micah,” he mumbled.

I positioned myself so I was facing him in my bed, scooted closer until I was pressing against him.

“Good night, Patrick,” I mumbled, wrapping an arm around his waist.

“Hey Patrick?” I asked.

“Hrm?”

“What’s Bach mean? You’re granddad and Uncle Bryce keep calling me that.”

“It means ‘little’, usually used when referring to one’s pet, it’s just a nickname,” Patrick whispered.

I yawned. “I’m not a pet,” I informed him, objecting to being referred as a pet.

“Of course you aren’t,” Patrick murmured. I yawned again, didn’t answer.

The pill acted quickly, sending me to sleep within a matter of minutes, for which I was grateful.

I was even more grateful the next morning, because if I’d dreamed that night, I didn’t remember any of them.

End Chapter

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All music used in this chapter belong to their respective owners/individuals who hold the copyrights to them. I am using part of the lyrics under the fair use act, etcetera etcetera etcetera.

Songs used:

Birthday, Originally played by the Beatles.

Happy Birthday: By Altered Images.

Knee Deep: Zach Brown Band featuring Jimmy Buffet

Good Charlotte: Emotionless.

All that said, I’m curious, how do you guys feel about the use of lyrics in story? I try not to use them all because I feel it’s bulky and unnecessary, and not everyone would want to read through all the lyrics. Hence the links. I would, however, like some feedback on this. You can leave me feedback here.

Thanks,

Linxe