Polarity
Chapter 1: His Father's Son
SLAM!
Brian Knight glanced up from his biology report out the open window. A red pickup had just parked in the driveway: Dad was home.
"Shit," he muttered under his breath. His paper forgotten, Brian rose and began walking towards the front door. If he was lucky, he could head off any trouble before it began.
"Where's the little faggot hiding?" His father's voiced echoed through the house.
So much for luck, he thought sullenly. Brian took a deep breath and counted to ten, willing himself to relax. He wouldn't be able to diffuse the situation if he couldn't keep his cool. The "little faggot" in question was Brian's younger brother Danny. Danny was only twelve-- far too young to know his sexual orientation. Not that his father cared.
"Danny's not here," Brian replied as he entered the living room. His father was already there, still in his work clothes and—not surprisingly—holding an open can of Coors.
"Where'd that little shit run off to?" the man asked, his voice slightly slurred. "He knows that he's supposed to come home right after school! I swear, when he gets home I'm gonna beat his ass till it's raw!" As he spoke, his hand clenched harder on the can of beer. The aluminum cylinder crumpled loudly under the pressure. Brian stood on without comment, his face an unreadable mask.
"He's over at a friend's house," he answered calmly. "They had to work on their Greek projects, remember? I dropped him off about two hours ago. In fact, I was just about to go pick—" The palm of his father's hand cut him off.
"How many times do I have to tell you not to talk back to me, boy?" The man's face was a shade like that of a stop sign. He was angry, but Brian knew that he was also ashamed at having forgotten something that his younger son had been working on for weeks. As his father stormed off to the kitchen, Brian risked a small smirk of satisfaction. That one slap had flushed much of the anger out of his father's system. By the time he returned with his brother, his father would hopefully have cooled off enough to enjoy a relatively peaceful evening.
After quickly returning to his room to collect his keys, Brian went out to his car. The car, an old blue Jetta, had been a gift for his seventeenth birthday just over a week ago. Brian had come to find birthdays as things to be feared. While each new year brought new experiences and freedoms, he was sure that his father would evict him as soon as he turned eighteen. That would mean that it would be just Danny and his mother alone with his father; he wouldn't be able to protect them anymore. Brian was certain that his father was counting the days with glee, for soon there would be no one to prevent him from venting his full anger. Brian knew that his mere presence might be the only thing keeping his father from going off the deep end.
This was not without good reason. At five feet seven inches, Brian was actually taller than his father. At first glance, Brian appeared to be a somewhat heavyset boy; the baggy jeans and loose fitting over shirts that he preferred added to the effect. But on closer inspection, one would find that Brian was reasonably well muscled. Unfortunately, his father was, as Brian often described him, built like a brick shithouse.
Brian rolled down his windows as he pulled out of the driveway and took a breath. He loved San Diego. Here the weather was warm year-round, and the air was clear, at least compared to LA. It was a wonderful place to grow up and discover whom you really are.
zzzzz
Brenda did her best not to flinch when she heard the slap. No matter how many times she heard that sound, she always flinched. It was only natural; no mother should be comfortable with hearing her children getting hit. And yet she let it continue.
That didn't make her much of a mother, did it? But what choice did she have? She couldn't very well try to stop him; that would only make Derek angrier. Reasoning with him was out of the question, as he was usually too drunk to see straight anyway. Divorce? Her fingers came to rest on the small crucifix hanging around her neck. No, she couldn't do that either. Till death do you part, she remembered. Her narrow shoulders fell as she sighed. How had it come to this?
"Little bastard, trying to undermine my authority..." Derek Knight's voice trailed off as he stalked into the kitchen. "Gimme a Coors," he demanded without so much as a glance at his wife. Brenda quickly moved to the refrigerator, hearing the familiar scrape and huff as her husband sat down at the table.
"Here," she said, handing him a fresh can.
"Good old silver bullet," he mused. The sound of the can opening punctuated the silence that had permeated the kitchen.
Eyes narrowing, Brenda watched for a moment as her husband chugged away at the silver can. She cleared her throat. "How many?"
"How many what?" he asked, wiping his lips.
"How many beers have you had?" her voice was low, yet firm.
"Including this one?"
She nodded. Derek pondered for a moment. "Three."
Brenda let out a heavy sigh. "And it's not even six yet."
"So?" he asked. Brenda was sure that he was trying to sound innocent, but he only came off as indignant.
"So," she replied. "You know I don't like it when you drink." Brenda walked to the cupboard and began taking out what she would need for the evening meal: Chef Boyardee's again. "It changes you," she muttered to herself.
"And what's that supposed to mean?" he asked, his voice rising slightly.
"Nothing," she replied quickly, hoping that he would drop the subject.
"Like Hell nothing," his voice was still calm, but there was a hint of menace behind his words. "What do you mean 'changes me'?"
"I mean," she replied. "You're not...things used to be so different, you know?"
"Oh, not this again," he groaned. "Every time I have a little beer you start with this."
"And you always change the subject," she shot back. Derek grunted in response. They passed the next few minutes in silence. Brenda busied herself with dinner, while Derek had opened a newspaper. After a time Brenda's ears caught a familiar sound: the opening of a pack of cigarettes. "You never did that either, you know."
Derek paused, cigarette between his lips. "What's with you?" he asked in a warning tone while simultaneously lighting his smoke.
"Nothing," she replied with a sigh. "Just remembering, that's all. Do you remember when we were first married?"
"Brenda..."
"You had just gotten into that grad program at UCSD. You had that big, cheesy grin for weeks," she laughed. "I swear, it was like living with the Cheshire Cat."
"You done?" he asked, cigarette still between his lips.
"You had that same grin when Brian was born," she paused, lost in thought. "But not when Danny was born."
Derek took a long drag before replying: "Because I wised up"
"What do you mean?" she asked, completely shocked at his words.
"You know exactly what I mean," he answered, his voice wavering slightly with emotion. "I knew it was over. Once that little faggot showed up I knew I'd never get my degree."
"Derek!"
"Don't you 'Derek' me," he answered coldly, taking another drag. "You know as well as I do that we couldn't afford it. It was hard enough trying to balance it all with just one kid. But two? No way."
"Derek," she said quietly. "Don't tell me that you blame Danny for what happened?"
"If it wasn't for that little faggot I'd have everything I've ever wanted," he yelled, slamming the now empty can down onto the table. "That little queer stole my dreams!"
"Jesus, Derek," she gaped. "He's your SON!"
Derek stormed out of the kitchen without a word.
zzzzz
"See you tomorrow!" Danny waved to his friend one last time before opening the door of the little blue Jetta. Taking his seat, he closed the door and focused his eyes on the road ahead. He never got to ride shotgun unless he was with Brian, and he intended to enjoy every minute of it. At least he would when they started moving.
Brian cleared his throat. "Forgetting something?"
"Huh?" Danny did a quick check: backpack, folders, and paper. Everything seemed in order. "Nuh-uh," he replied with the articulacy common among children. But Brian didn't seem to be buying it.
"Buckle up," he said firmly. Danny let out a groan of protest, and then complied.
"Fine!" Danny replied, blushing slightly. He pulled the nylon strap across his small chest. Only after the buckle clicked home did Brian start the engine and pull out into the street.
As they rounded the first corner, Brian spoke up: "Have fun Squirt?" Danny rolled his eyes. Brian had been calling him Squirt for years. Not to mention Shrimp, Short Stuff, Half-Pint, and any number of nicknames that exploited his slight stature. He knew that Brian was just trying to get on his nerves, so he ignored them for the most part. Still, did he always have to remind him that he was short? It wasn't like Brian was much taller. He was only 5'7", and he was seventeen, so he was pretty much through growing. Well, growing taller at least. Danny's mom had told him that once people reach a certain age, they start growing wider instead of taller. He shook his head, forcing the thought from his mind. Anyway, it wasn't like he was going to be little forever. He'd just finished with a growth spurt, and had leveled off at an even five feet. And he was only twelve, so he had another five or six years of growing ahead of him. It was only a matter of time before Brian was the little one. An evil sneer worthy of Christopher Lee crept across Danny's face.
"Yeah," he replied. "Me and Jake got a lot of work done. We should be done by Thursday."
"Well that's good to hear. Oh, and it's 'Jake and I'," Brian chided. "If Mom heard you talk like that, she'd string you up by your shoelaces." Danny suppressed a smile.
"So now you're turning into the grammar police?" he asked, straining to keep a straight face.
"Of course. I can't let you get yourself killed. Do you have any idea how much work it would be to hide the body? Think of all the digging I'd have to do." Brian's face remained expressionless.
A long pause. Danny looked at his brother, their eyes locked. The corner of Brian's mouth started to twitch. Danny's lips tightened into a thin line. Another pause, and Brian's shoulders shook ever so slightly. Danny's breathing became erratic. And then, suddenly, the car exploded with laughter. Brian reached over to ruffle Danny's short, brown, bowl-cut hair.
"Hey! Both hands on the wheel!" The younger boy batted his brother's hand away and tried to wedge himself as far into the corner as possible, his slim frame shaking with laughter.
After a few minutes of laughing, both brothers settled down for the remainder of the trip. As Danny watched the road go by, his thoughts turned towards what awaited him at home and his face fell. No doubt that his father was sitting at home and getting drunk, something he'd been doing frequently as of late. When Dad got drunk, he got mad. And when he got mad, he hit things. He usually hit Danny, or at least tried to. Whenever Dad got really mad, though, Brian would intervene somehow; he would often deflect his father's anger towards himself. Danny knew that it had to be hard on him, and he was eternally grateful. He didn't want to think about what things were going to be like when he wouldn't have Brian around.
Why does Dad hate me? What did I do? His father liked to call him a fag. Danny couldn't figure it out. Sure, he wasn't really interested in girls, but that didn't make him gay did it? It wasn't like he ogled boys or anything. Although there was this one new boy who was pretty cute...
"Who's cute?"
Danny froze. "Huh?" he asked quickly
"I thought I heard you say that you thought somebody was cute," Brian said with a knowing smirk. "Does my baby bro have a crush on someone?"
"No!" Danny replied quickly, his face a deep shade of red. "I don't know what you're talking about! I didn't say anything." In retrospect, Danny realized that maybe he'd protested a little too much.
"Huh," Brian said after a moment. If he noticed the quiver in Danny's protest, he didn't show it. "I could've sworn I heard you say something."
Danny quickly turned to the window. He could feel his heart pounding in his chest. Had he been thinking out loud?
zzzzz
"Pass the salt."
Brian gave the salt to his father without glancing up or giving a reply. He didn't need to. He knew that his father would accept it without a word. It struck him that many families would find such conduct to be rather rude. Then again, the Knights weren't like most families. At least I hope not, Brian mused. Before Brian could begin to contemplate a world populated by Derek Knights, his mother broke the kitchen's silence.
"So Danny, how was school today?" she asked, not really looking at her younger son.
"Fine," he replied. "There was a new kid in class today."
"Oh really?" Brian thought that he could detect a hint of interest in her voice, but assumed that she was just trying to keep the conversation going. Brian, meanwhile, was more concerned with making his ravioli disappear.
"Yeah," Danny answered casually. "His name is Brett. He's really smart. He kept on giving the right answers to all these questions about Ancient Greece." Danny paused for a moment, as if in thought. "I think that he was already studying it at his old school."
"Well that's good. Maybe he can help you and Jake with your project. Is he nice?"
"Yeah, he's cool."
Not to mention cute
Brian stopped in mid bite. He knew that he had just heard his brother call his new classmate "cute." But that was impossible for two reasons. First, he hadn't heard Danny's voice with his ears. Rather, the words seemed to have been broadcast directly into his mind. Secondly, if Danny had, his father would have begun choking and coughing up a lung. Much like Derek Knight was doing at the moment.
"What. Did. You. Say?" Brian looked at his father and swallowed hard. The look in his father's eyes was somewhere between disgust and seething fury. Brian could feel a knot developing in his throat. This could not end well.
"What?" Danny asked defensively. The look on Danny's face told Brian that the boy wasn't aware that he'd said anything. "I just said that he was coo--"
"No, after that!" Derek spat. "You said he was 'cute'! You little queer..."
"What are you talking about?" Danny shot back, wide-eyed. "I didn't say that!" In twelve years, Brian had never seen Danny as scared as he was now. And for the first time in twelve years, Brian had no idea what to do.
"Well I heard it! If you didn't say it, then how in the Hell did I hear it in my head?" Derek asked. Suddenly, Brian saw a look of cold realization cross his face. "You're...you're a mutant. You're a goddamn MUTIE FAGGOT!"
Derek was up and around the table in an instant. Before he could react or even process what his father had said, Brian heard the harsh sound of his father's hand across his brother's face. The force of the backhand was enough to send Danny sprawling from his chair. He hit the ground hard, the chair clattering next to him.
"DEREK!" Brenda screamed from her chair.
"DAD!" Brian shot upright and rushed towards his father, who was now kicking Danny without mercy. Brian tried to pull his father away, but promptly received an elbow to his face. Brian stumbled backwards, clutching his nose. He tripped over his chair and fell onto his back.
"DEREK! WHAT ARE YOU DOING? STOP IT!" came his mother's voice. Through his eyes were clinched shut in pain, Brian knew that his mother had risen and was now trying in vain to pry her husband away from her youngest son.
Brian staggered to his knees and tried to clear his now blurry vision. He looked up in time to see his mother being backhanded by the man he called father. As his mother fell to the floor, he felt something inside of him snap.
Brian wasn't entirely sure what happened next. All throughout the room, lights began to dim and he felt an unnatural rush of strength and energy. It was a strange feeling, to say the least. Every muscle in his body felt tense, and his body seemed to react as fast as a lightening strike. At that moment, he was sure that he could bench press his Jetta. And at that moment, there was only one thing that he could think to do with all that power.
A feral scream echoed through the house as Brian lunged forward. His right fist flew forward, striking his father in the jaw. There was a cold, dry snap, and time seemed to slow down. Brian stared hard at his father, but something didn't seem right. It took him a moment for Brian to realize that he was staring at the back of his father's head. Yet even in that ghastly moment of realization, Brian could still see some beauty. Blue tendrils of electrical energy danced over and between the two of them. The strobe like flashes reminded Brian of the way sunlight glittered across the surface of the ocean.
Before Derek Knight hit the floor, Brian knew that his father was dead.
Brian collapsed to the floor and instant after his father. He clutched a hand to his chest, which felt as though it were on fire. He felt the rush of power leave him as suddenly as it had come. The lights went back to their normal level, and his muscles began to relax all at once.
Slowly, his eyes turned to what remained of his family. He wanted desperately to tell them that everything would be all right. His mother stared at him in sad, wide-eyed horror. He could not meet her gaze for more than an instant. He looked to Danny, praying that he would understand. The boy seemed to sense his brother's eyes upon him, for he turned to lock eyes with him. Brian felt his breath catch in his throat. Instead of understanding, Danny's eyes were filled with dread and terror.
Brian would never forget that look as long as he lived.
It was too much. It was all just too much. Brian bolted through the door and ran. He ran towards the city, though he had no destination. All he knew was that he had to get away. He had to get away from the truth. He had to escape the realization that despite all his efforts, despite all his intentions, he was no better than the beast that had sired him.
He was his father's son.
Author's note:
I'd like to thank a couple people for their contributions to this story. First, I'd to thank my friend Scott for helping me come up with this little origin story. Second, I'd like to thank Jack B. Nimble for all his help editing this chapter. Without them, this story couldn't exist.
PS I'm having a little trouble getting the site to recognize my perspective shifts, so bear with me.