Family Ties

”

My field of vision blurred at the edges as I concentrated on Rich. I wanted to kill him with my bare hands. All I needed was a small distraction to get inside his guard. I flicked through the moves in my mind.

Rich thumbed off the pistol’s safety.

Danny and Terry both shouted, but Rich and I were totally focused on each other.

“Do it, you chickenshit bastard,” I taunted.

“You think I won’t?” He gripped the pistol tighter but didn’t pull the trigger. Instead, he stepped in and hit me hard in the head with the butt of the grip.

Light exploded behind my eyes as I fell to my hands and knees. I watched with a detached sort of curiosity as blood dripped from my brow and landed on the ground. I fought through the pain, waited a moment for my eyes to focus, and then looked up. I decided that if Rich was going to kill me, he was going to live the rest of his life as a eunuch. I tensed to lunge.

The house door swung open again.

Harold sized up the situation in an instant. “Richard, put the gun down.”

“Stand up,” Rich said to me.

“Fuck you, asshole.” I stood anyway and met his eyes. They were just like Christy’s, only hard and merciless.

“Put. The weapon. Down!” Harold barked. “Lieutenant!”

Rich finally looked away.

Rich was breathing hard, and I realized that I was too. Everything seemed to move in slow motion as he lowered the pistol.

I wasn’t out of danger yet, and the monkey in the back of my brain told me to jump him and smash his skull while he was distracted.

Some rational part of me kept a firm grip on the instinct. I didn’t move.

“Now, Lieutenant.” Harold moved forward and physically took the gun from his son’s hand.

My vision expanded and I saw Anne behind him, with Christy behind her.

Anne’s hair was unbrushed and she wore a nightdress. For that matter, Harold was only wearing his striped pajamas, and the top wasn’t even buttoned. At least Christy had managed to grab her pajamas when she ran into the house, so she wasn’t standing there in her underwear.

“Jesus Christ,” Danny said softly.

Harold surveyed the tableau. “Go back inside,” he told his wife. “And take Birdy with you.”

Blood dripped onto my chest. I ignored it and glared at Rich. He glared back.

“This little shit stain…,” Rich began. He couldn’t bring himself to say whatever he was thinking. Instead he gestured at the cot. “There! With Birdy!”

Harold glanced at me. His face hardened when I didn’t deny it, but he directed his immediate anger at his son. “Richard, go inside. Take Terry with you.” He glanced at his other son. “You too, Daniel. Now. All of you. That’s an order.”

Rich looked mutinous but did as he was told.

Harold seemed to relax once they’d gone, although I wasn’t off the hook yet. He tried to stare me down but I refused to be cowed.

“You’re bleeding,” he said at last.

He seemed to notice it himself. He thumbed on the safety and used the distraction to think through what had happened.

“What are you going to do?” I asked.

I stood there like a bump on a log.

“No, of course not,” I said at last. “Why would I do that?”

“Rich assaulted you.” He lifted the pistol. “With a deadly weapon.”

I looked at him in genuine confusion. After a moment I wiped blood from my brow and cheek. It didn’t show any signs of stopping, and I already felt a throbbing ache behind my eye.

“No,” I snapped irritably, “I don’t want to call the police.”

He twitched an eyebrow.

“I… might’ve deserved it.”

“You can say that again. What were you thinking? Never mind. I can guess.”

I squared my shoulders and looked him in the eye. “Nothing happened.

We fell asleep. That’s all.” So it was a little white lie. Okay, maybe a big one.

“Even if that’s true, you’ve put me in an awkward position, son. You understand that, don’t you?”

“Yes, sir. I’m sorry. I’ll leave if you want me to.”

“And what if I ask you to stop seeing my daughter?”

“We both know you won’t.”

He shook his head in frustration. “You and your damned logic.”

“I’m so mad right now I wouldn’t know logic if it bit me in the ass.”

“No, I suppose you wouldn’t. But you’re right, I won’t ask you to stop seeing Birdy. I won’t ask you to leave, either.”

The door to the house opened. He grew angry but then relaxed when he saw who it was.

“Is everything all right?” Anne asked.

Christy appeared behind her. Her eyes widened when she saw the blood.

“Harold, he’s hurt,” Anne said. She turned to her daughter. “Go get the first aid kit. And an old towel. The bottle of peroxide, too.”

Christy turned and ran into the house with a flash of red flannel.

“Me?” he said. “I’m fine. Just thinking through my options.”

“Why don’t you talk to Rich? He was packing his things. I don’t think he should leave.”

“You’re right,” Harold said.