Travis Starnes
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Second Down - Chapter 36
🕑 Added 2025-01-31 16:00:08 +0000 UTCI stumbled down the stairs still squinting from light that was just a little too bright. It was almost noon and I’d slept half the day away, but since this was the first day of vacation, that was fine by me. Football was done and my weekends just got a lot less busy.
What I wanted more than anything at the moment was a glass of water. I’d gotten in super late from our celebration with the guys from varsity after their crushing 32-7 win in their first playoff game.
The fact that we’d even been invited along had been amazing. While they had practically the same celebration ritual to go to the Silver Spoon that JV had, normally only varsity players and cheerleaders went after their games.
Kenneth had somehow noticed me in the stands and yelled at me to meet them at the spoon as he headed back to the fieldhouse.
Mickey, Hanna, and Melanie had been sitting with me, so I brought them along, which turned out to not be a problem. Better yet, Melanie and Hanna had been pulled over by Tammy and the cheerleaders when we got there, while Mickey and I went to sit with some of the guys, and they spent the whole night flitting between our table and the varsity cheerleaders like a hyperactive hummingbird.
It was nice seeing her so happy, and it paid off for me. It was pretty late when Freddie chased us all out so I’d walked her home. She spent the entire walk just chattering away about all the funny things Tammy had said, how great Tammy was, and just gushing about the whole night. As soon as we got to her door though, she was all over me.
We’d been keeping things pretty tame so far, and she took things up several notches. It wasn’t a full-on makeout session, considering we were standing at the front of her house, but she definitely rewarded me for getting her a night with the varsity girls.
I’d been in such a good mood when I got home, that I’d just lay in bed for an hour, staring at the screen, reliving it. And now I was paying the price for staying up so late.
My eyelids felt like they were lined with lead, and my brain still felt fuzzy. And it wasn’t all just because I stayed up late. Josh was banging around just after the sun came up, either building furniture or just being loud to be an asshole.
I was pretty sure it was the latter.
I’d tried to block him out with some music, but I couldn’t find my headphones in my room and didn’t have enough energy to go hunting for them then. Thankfully it didn’t last that long. He’d been disappearing in the afternoons and weekends more and more, going who knows where, and coming back when it was dark. I know it bugged dad, but mom kept saying he was going to play with friends.
Like he had any friends.
But whatever. There wasn’t anything I was going to be able to do to convince them to take his actions more seriously. Mom was, I don’t even know why she put up with it, and dad was more concerned with mom’s health and didn’t want to fight with her on it.
Mostly I just wanted to get some water, find my headphones, and head back upstairs to sleep a little longer.
Finish my water, I headed into the entry hallway where I’d dropped my gym bag last night. I’d been so tired when I got home that I barely remembered throwing it down. I must have been really tired, because it was half unzipped. Although how I could have carried it around all day half open was beyond me. I knelt beside it, ignoring the heavy smell of old sweat that had soaked into the fabric.
It still had my clothes from gym the day before that I’d have to get to eventually. I dug past those, some random gear still in the bag, and a towel, and didn’t see it. I pushed everything around again, wondering how I could miss them in a half full bag.
And my brain caught up. There was no way the bag was open. I remembered that it was closed when I got home.
It wasn’t hard to figure out what had happened to it.
Mom and dad would have never messed with it. If anything, they would have seen it and yelled at me to move it out of the hallway. Josh, on the other hand, would absolutely steal my shit. In a heartbeat.
Actually, he was more likely to do that now. Ever since Eduardo came over for dinner, he’d been even more of a pain than usual.
I shoved everything back into the bag and headed upstairs to his room. He was still out, doing whatever it was he did, and went into his room.
The place was a pigsty. Stuff was everywhere. I knew mom came in and picked up his dirty clothes, to do his laundry, something she hadn’t done for me in a long time. This wasn’t the first time he’d stolen stuff from me, and I’d already worked out some of his most common hiding places over the years.
I carefully moved his dresser back, but found nothing except dust bunnies and a forgotten sock. I then checked under his bed. Getting on my hands and knees, I found two crumpled pieces of paper. Pulling them out, I recognized my old practice schedules from the start of the season. He’d torn them into pieces and then wadded them up.
Annoying, and probably he thought a “gotcha” to me, but we got these all the time as the practices changed. The fact that I hadn’t even noticed they’d gone missing said that they weren’t all that important.
I got up and looked around the room. Those were the two places he’d tended to hide stuff. Something tickled at the back of my mind. A few months ago, Mom had found something of mine in the garage, annoyed that I’d leave something there. I hadn’t known what she was talking about at the time, but now …
I headed down to the garage, which was a mess of boxes and old junk, too full to actually put a car into. Dad kept talking about getting it cleaned out, but we never did.
I made my way to where the Christmas decorations were stacked against the back wall, which was about where Mom had mentioned finding my stuff. I hadn’t actually checked at the time, just taken my stuff from her, and now I was kicking myself because of it.
I started digging behind boxes. He wouldn’t just leave it in the open. He liked to hide stuff under and behind things. After a few minutes, I thought maybe I’d misread the situation, and it wasn’t here, until a section of drywall caught my eye. Moving closer, I could see it had been cut away and then pushed back into place.
I pulled it out carefully. It was still partially attached, so I couldn’t move it all the way out of the way, but I opened it enough to see a shoebox sitting there, with my headphones resting on top.
Little bastard.
I grabbed my headphones and started to put the drywall back when something stopped me. I saw the shoebox, and wondered just what else of mine he’d squirreled away. I picked up the shoebox instead, and was surprised when it was heavier than I expected. Something inside shifted when I moved it.
I pulled off the lid, and felt my stomach drop. It was filled with a collection of random stuff, but not just random knickknacks someone else might have in a shoebox. Hair ties in different colors, several tubes of lipstick and lip gloss, pieces from charm bracelets and necklaces, and, worrying enough, two small clumps of hair, clearly from different girls.
They didn’t feel like mementos. They felt like trophies.
And then I noticed one of the pieces from a charm bracelet. It was a tiny silver megaphone, and I knew exactly where it came from. Melanie had complained about losing hers a few weeks ago. She hadn’t specifically said she’d lost it here, since I think she didn’t notice when it disappeared right away, but it was around the time she’d come over to study with me.
I was nearly certain these were all connected to different girls, and couldn’t help but think of how he’d looked at Melanie that day.
I needed to show this to Dad. But even as I had the thought, I could predict how it would go. Mom would make excuses, he’s just collecting things he finds, he doesn’t mean anything by it. And Dad would defer to her like always, not wanting to upset her when she was already dealing with these headaches.
The sound of a car door slamming made me jump. I quickly shoved the drywall piece back into place, tucking the box under my arm. I needed time to think about how to handle this, but I wasn’t going to let him keep his creepy ass trophies.
I ended up giving the box to Dad later that night, and he said he’d take care of it. I didn’t hear anything else about it, but admittedly I tried to stay away from the house as much as I could during the week. Mom was in a mood because of her headaches and when Josh was home, he was being a pain in the ass.
Since Dad had to work and wasn’t around to mediate, I thought the best thing to do was to be gone. I hung out at Eduardo’s a bunch, with Melanie several times, and even at Li’s once, although her mom disapproved of us hanging out and watching TV, so we were put to work in the store instead. It was still fun. The more I hung out with her, the more her sense of humor emerged. She was slightly sarcastic and very dry, and could give burns with the best of them.
It looked like by Tuesday morning that Mom would be good enough to cook Thanksgiving, so Dad went and got all the stuff, including the big ham, which we always had instead of turkey. Thanksgiving morning, though, Mom had another fit of her headaches and couldn’t get out of bed. Dad looked a little frazzled, so I volunteered to help him in the kitchen, not that I actually knew what I was doing.
“I think we need to cut it in half,” Dad said, looking at the ham propped halfway in the pan, much too off-kilter to actually fit in our small oven.
“Mom never does,” I pointed out.
“Yeah, but I have no idea how she makes it fit.”
“Is there another pan?”
“I don’t think so.”
“Maybe once it cooks a bit, it’ll shrink and fit in the pan.”
“I’m not sure that’s how this works,” he said, crossing his arms and glaring at the offending meat as if it were a perp giving him trouble. “I’m hearing you don’t think we should cut it in half.”
“I mean, Mom likes the big presentation, and she’ll definitely notice two halves of a half. Besides, I’m not sure we have enough glaze to do both parts.”
“That’s a good point. I guess we’ll just do our best,” he said, and grunted as he tried to force it in the pan, hitting it several times.
It did go into the pan more, although the meat kind of bowed at the bottom when he did.
“Wrap it in foil and see if it fits after it cooks for a bit?” I suggested.
“Yeah, that’s about all we can do.”
After wrapping it up and getting it into the oven, I went back to peeling potatoes while he started looking at the package of stuffing.
“So,” Dad said as he started pouring stuff into bowls. “Football season’s done. What are your plans for spring semester?”
“I’ve been thinking about seven-on-seven. It’ll help keep my passing skills sharp. Plus, by March, we should have enough from the betting to start with those trainers I was talking about.”
“About that, you were right about the Vikings game.”
“You’re not still doubting me, are you?”
“No, no. I still have faith. Even made a nice little bit of money on it myself. Just remarking on your track record.”
“Good. I’m keeping notes on what’s coming up next. I just want to do as much as we can the next few years because I don’t know how long it will be until what I know isn’t as reliable anymore. Plus, once I hit college, I think we’re going to have to stop the gambling completely because of NCAA rules.”
“I hadn’t thought about that part,” Dad said, frowning.
“Yeah, I didn’t at first, but it hit me the other day. They really frown on sports betting, especially football. We might be able to get away with betting in other sports, but who knows. Also, like you said, the longer we gamble, the more likely someone notices how lucky we’ve been. There will be a point where we can put money into other things. I do know some stuff about companies, which ones get big, which ones crash in a few years, but nothing that’s going to happen soon and the details are fuzzier there though.”
Again, I could kick myself for not really paying attention to those sorts of things. Still, the ones I did know would be big, if I could figure out the best time to invest.
“We’ll deal with that when we get there. Just make sure, as soon as you get a little questionable on if something is worth betting on, we stop. The only reason I’m okay putting everything into every bet is because you’re so sure. It becomes a lot more risky when you’re not sure anymore.”
“I know. I’ll let you know when what I know starts getting questionable. Promise.”
“Good.” Dad nodded. “Just keep showing that kind of judgment.”
“Speaking of judgment, think the stuffing’s burning.”
Dad rushed to pull the pan of Stove Top from the burner while I fought back a laugh. We spent the next hour cooking and just chatting. He even talked about his work, which he didn’t do much. It was solid bonding time.
In the end, we managed to get the meal on the table. The instant mashed potatoes came out lumpy, the stuffing was a little crispy on the bottom, and the mac and cheese was definitely not traditional, but the ham at least looked decent.
I got everything set on the table while Dad got Mom and Josh. After a short grace, we all started to eat. To say things were tense would be an understatement.
Josh, naturally, didn’t seem particularly bothered by anything, just focused on eating without giving a damn about anybody. Mom, still in the grips of her headache, barely looked up. She also didn’t make herself a plate.
Instead, she poured herself a foul-smelling green liquid which she slowly sipped at. This seemed to set Dad off, who looked equally concerned and annoyed every time she picked up the glass of sludge.
We made it halfway through the meal without a sound beyond the clinking of silverware against plates.
Josh was the first one to break the silence.
“I want a lock for my door.”
“Why would you need that?” Dad asked.
“Blake’s been going through my room!”
“I wasn’t,” I said.
While I had been, I wasn’t going to let him know that. I’d made sure to cover all of my tracks, even leaving my torn-up schedule under his bed. There was no way he could know I was in there.
“You were. You took my box of stuff.”
“You mean the one that was hidden in the garage? With my missing headphones on it? I didn’t take it, I gave it to Dad.”
I looked at Dad. Clearly, he hadn’t talked to Josh or handled it like he promised he would. Instead of going at Josh myself, I’d done it the right way, letting him take care of it. So now would be a good time for him to back me up before Mom jumped all over my shit.
“What box?” Mom asked sharply.
“It’s just some of my stuff. Things I found and collected.”
“That’s some BS. It’s not just stuff he collected, it was full of stuff taken from girls at school. Hair ties, makeup, jewelry, including Melanie’s charm bracelet that went missing the day she came over here to study with me.”
“Joshua isn’t a thief,” Mom cut in. “Blake, stop making up stories about your brother. If Josh says it’s just stuff he found, then that’s all it is. To suggest he’s doing something like that is hurtful, and I won’t allow it.”
“What! I’m not making anything up! Dad, tell her.”
Dad cleared his throat, setting down his fork. “Heather, Blake did bring me a concerning collection of items.”
“Tom, not you too,” Mom interrupted. “He’s curious and likes to collect things. I won’t sit here and listen to these horrible accusations. Joshua finds things people drop and keeps them because he’s sentimental. To twist that into something else is cruel.”
“Mom, he’s dangerous!” I said. “These weren’t just random items he found. They were personal things taken from specific girls. Trophies. He’s been following them, watching them…”
“I said enough!” Mom’s face had gone flush.
Josh had gone very still during this exchange, his eyes fixed on his plate. But I caught the slight curl of his lip. This would just reinforce that Mom would defend him no matter what evidence we presented.
It was going to embolden him.
“Heather, we need to discuss this,” Dad tried again. “The behavior indicated by these items suggests…”
“It suggests nothing except that Blake is trying to hurt his brother again,” Mom snapped. “And you’re enabling him. Joshua, sweetheart, you don’t have to sit here and listen to these awful accusations.”
Josh’s chair scraped back and stood up, looking hurt and confused. He didn’t fool me though. I could see the triumph in his eyes, even if Mom and Dad were too focused on each other to see it.
“I can’t believe you’d do this,” Mom said, her voice trembling as she got up, wrapping an arm around Josh’s shoulders. “On Thanksgiving of all days. Blake, go to your room. You’re grounded until you apologize to your brother.”
“I’m not apologizing for telling the truth,” I said, standing as well. “Dad, please!”
“Tom, handle your son,” Mom ordered as she directed Josh upstairs.
“Heather, I…”
“No,” she said, spinning to face him as Josh disappeared upstairs. “Why do you always take his side? Just because Blake plays football, just because he reminds you of yourself, you can’t see anything else!”
“This has nothing to do with football. This is about Joshua’s behavior.”
“His behavior is normal! He’s sensitive, he collects things that interest him. But you can’t stand that, can you? You can’t stand that he’s not another dumb jock like you were!”
“Heather, that’s enough.” Dad’s hands clenched on the table. “Joshua is sick. He needs help. It’s not just him collecting things. His behavior is out of control. Hell, he even attacked you a few months ago. We can’t keep ignoring this.”
“He’s not sick! You push and push him to be something he’s not, and when he withdraws, you act like there’s something wrong with him!”
“There is something wrong with him!” I shouted, unable to keep my mouth shut any longer.
“Don’t you dare! You are just like your father, everything has to fit in your narrow little box of what’s acceptable!”
“And you are just like your mother, refusing to see what’s right in front of you!” Dad said. “Just like with these headaches. You won’t listen to doctors, you won’t listen to reason, the only people you will listen to is that crazy friend of ...”
“Why would I listen to them! They dismiss me, just like you do! Looking down their noses at my natural remedies while pushing their pills that don’t work!”
“The pills would work if you actually took them.”
“Don’t you dare criticize my choices! I am the one suffering here, not you!”
“We are all suffering, Heather! The whole family is suffering while you pretend everything’s fine!”
I just stood there frozen, watching them tear into each other. This had escalated a lot further than Josh. They had been piling up the resentment for months, and the floodgates had opened.
“Oh, now you care about the family? Where was that concern when Blake was struggling in school? When Joshua needed help for all the bullying he’s gotten? You were too busy with work, with your precious overtime…”
I couldn’t take it anymore. The food on the table was completely forgotten as they laid into each other. They didn’t even notice me as I left the room and went out the back door. I could still hear them screaming at each other, even as I walked down the driveway toward the street.
I had to do something about Josh, knowing what he was going to become, but I hadn’t wanted it to turn out like this. For whatever reason, mom had decided to put everything into defending him, no matter what happened, to an insane degree.
But I hadn’t known dad was holding so much resentment over everything in. I should have just tossed the box and pretended I didn’t know what he was talking about. It wasn’t like telling dad was doing anything other than making it worse.
I had seen the look on Josh’s face. He knew mom was going to defend him to the end. It was going to make him worse.
No matter what I did.
Comments
David Howe
That's an enlightening observation. I haven't really pursued the Imperium or Shattered Lands series, and I haven't read one of the Taylor series books in a while. Perhaps I should do so.
David Howe
I should have voiced this thought a chapter ago - but it's still valid. Were I Blake's coach, the one thing he said and did that would lead me to trust his judgment more than ever, is that it was Blake who suggested in the mud game that the team revert to a "run the ball" strategy. Blake also gave the reasons for his thinking (cold hands, wet, slippery ball, inability to make cuts, etc.). As a coach, it would show me that Blake is focused on whatever it takes to win, and not just on padding his passing stats. Just a minor thought.
Ronnie Haas
Travis What readers are attracted to is a widely varying thing. I really like the "Taylor series and Country Roads. I really quit following the Imperium series. Part of the reason is age related. I am in my 60s. So I lean toward the Strong Character type, Taylors series and the rags to riches story, Country Roads. While the younger readers probably like the stronger SC-FI of Imperium.
philip grossman
Thanks for the info, I find the "business end" of publishing very interesting too. After thinking about it, I imagine that Taylor and Shattered Lands are in genres with larger reader bases. I enjoy Imperium very much, but unlike the "rags to riches" and "redo" stories I seem to want to read that series in large chunks of chapters rather than jumping into each chapter as its released. Go figure... Keep them coming!
Travis Starnes
I have noticed that, although what is popular here on Patreon is very different than what is popular once it's published. Imperium sells well more than any other series (about 15x more than Country Roads) and both Taylor and Shattered Lands sell more than Country Roads, although by less extreme margins.
philip grossman
It seems like you are getting more chapter comments on this series than even your Country Roads series. If this is any measure of its popularity once published, you may have a winner here.
philip grossman
Glad we had a few good chapters before disruptive Josh reappears. Also beginning to wonder if we going to see the parents separated by divorce instead of death this time around.
