Canary (18 page)

“Just a warning,” Luke said. “I'm stealing money from every one of you assholes.” He dealt cards to the other guys who, like Luke, were drinking beer or smoking pot. The whole room was hazy and stinky.

I sat on the edge of one of the couches while Jack pulled up a chair beside the other boys. Every once in a while one of them would offer me a beer, but for the most part they were in a world of their own. I found a magazine on the floor and picked it up to pass the time. I threw it back down when I saw it was 
Playboy.

Luke turned to me between games. “Hey, Kate, why don't you play this next one with us?”

“No, thanks. I'm okay.”

“You're just sitting there,” Dave chimed in. “That doesn't look too fun.”

“Nah, it's okay,” Jack said. “She's fine. She's had a hard day.”

“Then you need to be drinking.” Luke tossed me a beer.

I missed, and it rolled across the floor. I got up to follow it and heard Jack talking as I bent under the table to grab it.

“Seriously, her brother enlisted in the Army.”

I froze. Did Jack really say that to everyone? Luke laughed, and for the second time that night, I fought back tears.

“You have to be shitting me,” Luke said. “Brett? Fighting?”

“Don't worry,” Brad, a junior, said. “At least he'll be safe. Everyone will lay off him because they'll feel sorry for the little guy.”

The room exploded in laughter, and I stood up from under the table, knocking my head. I grabbed the spot I'd hurt and didn't bother to keep the tears in.

“Let's go,” I demanded.

Jack looked away from his friends and at me. “Oh, shit, Kate. Sorry. They were just joking.”

“Now,” I said, not looking at anyone else in the room. I grabbed my purse and started for the steps.

“Busted,” I heard someone say.

Luke said something quietly, and everyone laughed again.

I kept going, moving fast. I heard Jack following me, but I didn't stop. I walked through the house and outside. I stood beside Jack's car, waiting for him to unlock it.

“Kate, I said I was sorry.” He unlocked the doors.

I slid inside. It was impossible to look at him. “Was that before or after you laughed with everyone?”

“You know I didn't mean it.”

“Then why the hell didn't you stop it?”

“I really am sorry. I shouldn't have told everyone.”

“You're right. It wasn't your business to tell. Do you think any of those guys care about my brother?” I took a deep breath and glanced at him.

He reached toward my cheek and leaned over to kiss me.

I pulled away.

“I didn't mean to hurt you.”

I sighed and reached out to squeeze his hand. It was ridiculous to fight right now. I needed him to help me deal with this, but I couldn't shake what had happened.

Ali pulled me into the bathroom as soon as I got to school the next morning. “Jack told me what
happened. Why didn't you tell me?”

“What are you talking about?” I asked.

“How Brett is going off to fight in the war. That sucks.”

“Are you kidding me?” I slipped my backpack off my shoulder and looked around the bathroom, wondering if anyone else was listening. No one was. All the stalls were empty. The last thing I wanted was to have the whole school talking about Brett's decision. “Why would Jack tell you that?”

“He was worried. He called me last night after he dropped you off.”

“He called you?” Jack and Ali had been talking about me? I imagined what the conversation might have been like. Jack had probably joked about Brett the way he had with the other guys. I was sure Ali wouldn't have been able to wait to get off the phone with him so she could call Jenna to spread the latest gossip. I shoved one of the stall doors and watched it swing back and forth.

“Yeah, but it was only because he cares—”

“You don't know how Jack feels.”

“What? He wanted to make sure you were okay. He thought I could help.”

“It's not his business. It's not yours. You guys have no right to be talking about me behind my back.”

“He was worried.”

“So am I.” My words echoed off the bathroom walls. “Don't you think I'm worried too? But I'm
allowed to be worried. He's my brother.”

“Of course you are. He's going to war. I'm sure you're scared. We all are.”

“Don't say that. He isn't going to war. All he's done is sign the papers. And don't suddenly act like Brett is important to you.” I stared at the tiles on the floor and picked at a hangnail. I didn't believe I could cry any more than I had, but I proved myself wrong.
“Nobody ever cared about him before.” My voice broke, and then my whole body shook with sobs.

Ali wrapped her arms around me. “I'm sorry.”

I wanted to fight her. I wanted to push and shove and get away from her and everyone else, but I allowed myself to relax in her hug. It was only for a moment, but then I broke away. “Don't be sorry. What the hell are you apologizing for? You don't
understand anything.” I pushed past her and headed out the door.

I walked down the hall and ignored the first bell. I headed outside, fighting against students who were racing inside, trying to make it to their classes before the late bell rang. I kept walking down the steps and away from everyone who would no doubt be talking about Brett. If Jack told Ali, I was sure he'd told other people. And if he hadn't, I was sure Luke would.

I couldn't handle it. I didn't want to face anyone, so I didn't. Instead, I trudged farther and farther away from Beacon and the people who didn't understand what was happening to Brett, to me, and to our family.

Ali apologized the next day with a box of cupcakes. Six chocolate ones with white buttercream frosting and pink sprinkles. She held them up when I approached my locker in the morning. No one had said anything about me skipping school, but I didn't want to press my luck and stay home another day.

I pointed at the cupcakes. “Are those for me?”

“I'm sorry,” she said.

I shook my head. “No, I was a bitch. You were only trying to help.”

“But it wasn't my place. I should have waited for you to talk to me.”

I pulled the wrapper off a cupcake and took a big bite. “It's such a shock. He just signed the papers and I can't stop thinking about how stupid he is for wanting to do something so dangerous. I really wasn't ready to start talking about it yesterday.”

“I'm glad we're talking now,” Ali said. She reached for a cupcake. “You know you can tell me these things, right?”

I nodded.

“I'm here for you. Don't ever feel like you can't talk to me.”

I licked some frosting off my finger. “And when I don't want to talk, you can bring cupcakes.”

“Perfect.”

I closed the lid on the box and turned to Ali. “Let's take the rest of these to the boys.”

“I think that's a great idea.”

I followed her down the hall and hoped she really would listen if I tried to talk.

Brett waited until dinner that night to finally talk to us about the papers he signed.

Dad knocked on my door. “We're eating together. I picked up pizza.”

I headed to the kitchen, dread filling my stomach. The last time Dad organized a family dinner was when he told us about Beacon, and that didn't go well.

We sat at the same table we'd used my whole life. It showed its age in the shiny dark wood, smooth in some places and bumpy in other spots where a pen had pressed too hard or a fork had gouged the surface to punctuate a point during a heated argument.

The table where Mom told me she was sick, where Brett announced his intention to enlist in the Army, and where his signed papers from the recruiters were left for Dad.

We sat with Brett and passed out plates and napkins as if nothing was wrong. For a little bit, it seemed like a typical meal. No one talking, our pizza moving methodically from our mouths to the plates, the newsman on the TV the only real noise.

Halfway through dinner, Brett started to talk, his voice rising. “I know you're both mad about what I did, but it's what I want to do. It's important to me. I'm going to request special training in bomb disarmament. I want to go to the Middle East.”

I stared at him. “Are you kidding me?”

Brett shook his head slowly. “No, I'm not. I want to help, and I can help over there.”

I waited for Dad to rage, as he usually did, but he just sat there staring at his plate.

I spoke for him. “Brett, that's the dumbest thing I've ever heard. You're going to get killed.” My words were shrill, hurried, as if I could push the words out that would change his mind.

“I'm aware of the risks. I know I can get killed. But it'll be okay. I'm going to help end the fighting, not be a part of it.”

“How?” I said. “I see the news. They're always mentioning soldiers who get blown up or shot and killed. I know what goes on over there.”

“Kate, the war you see on TV isn't what it's really like over there. Not everyone is the enemy.”

“You're going to die,” I repeated, because it was what my mind instantly went to when I thought about war. “Die. Just like Mom.”

Dad finally spoke up, his voice loud and clear. “Enough, both of you. Enough.”

Brett and I sat still, waiting for him to say more. Dad closed his eyes and kept them shut.

“Dad,” Brett said. “It's going to be okay. This is a good thing.”

“How?” he started. “How the hell can you say this is a good thing?”

“Because it is, Dad. What I'm doing is going to help people, whether or not you want to believe it.”

Dad stood, looming over the two of us. His jaw twitched, and I knew he was angry. I was afraid of what he might do. “I didn't say anything when you enlisted against my wishes. I tried to grasp why you'd do something so foolish, but this . . . This I can't understand, and I refuse to try. This is not what I expected out of my son.”

“Well, Dad,” Brett started. “This is who I am now. You need to figure out how to accept it, or you're going to lose me too.”

“I've already lost you. You openly defied me, Brett, and I don't know how I can call you my son anymore. Not after what you've done.”

“Don't worry,” Brett shouted, kicking the chair next to him.

I jumped back, frightened, and hit my knee on the table. I bit the side of my mouth as pain shot through me.

“You don't need to bother with your son, because he's moving out. I won't be your problem anymore.” Brett pushed back his chair and stood to walk out, but Dad walked out faster.

“Make sure you leave your key,” Dad demanded, slamming his office door.

“Brett,” I said and reached out to him, “you don't need to do this. Dad's just mad. He doesn't mean what he's saying.”

“Oh, now you're on my side? It's a lot easier to offer help when your friends aren't around to see, isn't it?”

“I've always been on your side.”

“Right. Sure your were. You're as bad as Dad.”

“I'm nothing like Dad.”

“Look in a mirror. I think you'd be surprised how much you've become like him.”

I opened my mouth to respond, but Brett's back was turned to me as he walked away.

I sat alone at the table. If I did look in the mirror, would I be able to recognize myself?

www.allmytruths.com

Today's Truth:

Read between the lines.

Brett told us he wants to fight in the war at dinner tonight, but I won't let myself believe it. His sentences came out fractured and broken.

I tried to pick up the jagged shards around me, but I could only hold on to a few.

All I heard were the words that flew out of his mouth, slapping me awake with their wicked connotations, speaking the truth, the truth he didn't want us to hear . . .

Middle East

Bomb

Risks

Killed

War

Violence

Hate

Enemy

His words echo in my head over and over and over again . . .

Middle East, bomb, risks, killed, war, violence, hate, enemy, Middle East, bomb, risks, killed, war, violence, hate, enemy, Middle East, bomb, risks, killed, war, violence, hate, enemy, Middle East, bomb, risks, killed, war, violence, hate, enemy, Middle East, bomb, risks, killed, war, violence, hate, enemy, Middle East, bomb, risks, killed, war, violence, hate, enemy, Middle East, bomb, risks, killed, war, violence, hate, enemy, Middle East, bomb, risks, killed, war, violence, hate, enemy, Middle East, bomb, risks, killed, war, violence, hate, enemy, Middle East, bomb, risks, killed, war, violence, hate, enemy, Middle East, bomb, risks, killed, war, violence, hate, enemy, Middle East, bomb, risks, killed, war, violence, hate, enemy, Middle East, bomb, risks, killed, war, violence, hate, enemy, enemy, enemy, enemy, enemy, enemy, enemy, enemy, enemy, enemy, enemy, enemy, enemy, enemy, enemy, enemy, enemy, enemy, enemy, enemy, enemy, enemy, enemy, enemy, enemy, enemy, enemy, enemy, enemy, enemy, enemy, enemy, enemy, enemy, enemy.

Posted By: Your Present Self

[Tuesday, November 19, 8:53 PM]

Brett left before sunup. I watched through my window as he carried his bags down the front steps. He got in the car with Julia and drove away. I stood with one palm against the window, perhaps a wave or a sign for him to stop, and I imagined he saw me.

Dad never came out of his room. He didn't try to get him to stay.

Brett left before sunup. That's all I can say.

What more can you add to that?