Freshman Year, Spring
The silence of the cabin is broken by the sound of footsteps thundering up the staircase. Dan Mangan smiles as Mart Belden bursts into his room, Reddy galloping along beside him.
"Good God, it's hot out there. I really hope this heat wave breaks with that thunderstorm predicted for tonight." Mart says fervently. "Here's Brian's genetics textbook." He tosses the book to Dan, who catches it easily. "Lucky for you that Bobby hid it and forced Brian to buy it from the school at the end of last semester, huh?"
"Thanks," Dan says from where he's sitting cross-legged on the crocheted rug. "I hope I'm not keeping you from your visit with your aunt."
"Nah, Aunt Alicia left early this morning to go back to Maryland," Mart tells him.
"Godspeed," Dan mutters as he begins flipping through the book's pages.
"What are you up to?" Mart asks curiously, glancing at the documents spread out before Dan. In the background, Reddy halts his rounds inspecting Dan's room and hops up onto the bed.
"Looking at some old papers my parents left," Dan explains. It's a selective truth—in reality, he accidentally stumbled across them in the locked drawer of Regan's office desk, and then decided to borrow them. "These list the descriptions of their immediate families. I guess it was in case they got separated and needed to find each other again, maybe during wartime or something. That would make sense, I guess, because my dad was in the Navy SEALs. It's really lucky that this stuff was even saved when my mom and Regan got sent to the orphanage." He glances up at Mart. "Those Star Wars comics I mentioned earlier are in the box by the desk."
"Sweet!" Mart exclaims, flopping down onto the desk's chair. He looks at Dan. "Do you mind if I—"
"Knock yourself out." Dan smiles.
Mart digs through the carton eagerly. "Wow, these are the issues about the Nagi and Den Siva. I actually think you look a lot like him, you know, since you're dark-haired but so pale."
"Good to hear," Dan replies absently from where he's studying the documents. One lists descriptions of his mother and her family, while the other contains similar information about his father and his parents. As far as Dan is aware, his father didn't have any siblings.
A comfortable silence settles between them as each one concentrates on his individual task.
Though Dan wouldn't even rank as an amateur where knowledge of genetics is concerned, he's managed to gather from the listings that it's unlikely that he would wind up with blue eyes as he has. While it's more of a slim chance rather than a legitimate impossibility, right now he can't find anyone in his family he could have inherited them from.
Then again, according to this paper about his mother's family, all four members—her, her brother, and her parents—all had green eyes and red hair, one of the rarest hair and eye color combinations found in human existence. Luck of the Irish, Dan supposes, that all of them would inherit it. (Seriously, were they the Irish version of Aryans, or something?) Perhaps, then, improbability doesn't have much to do with genetics.
Biting his lip, Dan skims the paper about his father's family. K. Timothy Mangan had blond hair, as had his mother, while his father was brown-haired. All of them were described as having brown eyes.
Dan's blue eyes are one thing—while it is far more likely he would have brown eyes, or on a lesser chance, green, there's still a narrow possibility. But where the hell did his black hair come from? If this information on his family is accurate, shouldn't he have brown, blond, or red hair?
Possessing one trait that remained totally absent from his family for two generations is a matter that can be easily explained. But showing two traits absolutely no one else in his immediate bloodline demonstrated?
Again, it's not impossible, and after all, he doesn't have any information on his grandparents' siblings or parents, so it's not conclusive, either. But regardless, Dan is skeptical.
A section on the paper lists his father's distinguishing characteristics. The crucifix tattoo on his right bicep, the slim diagonal scar on the left side of his face, and another scar toward the middle of his collarbone.
Grinning, Dan recalls that each time he asked, his father told him a different story of how he got the scars. When he was a kid, his dad regaled him with tales of fighting dragons and wrestling gators. Once Dan was older, Timothy offered sarcastic recollections of tripping over shoes that were left lying in the middle of the floor. Those stories were always followed by instructions for Dan to actually put his sneakers away instead of just kicking them off in the middle of the room and leaving them there.
It was a simpler time, when Timothy was just a typical father, and Dan was merely a typical son.
The smile fades from Dan's face as he remembers that in the end, none of the characteristic features helped to find his father. Timothy's body was never recovered.
Dan looks to the paper again, and his eyes fall on another section of information: blood type. His father was O positive, while Dan's grandfather and grandmother were B positive and O positive, respectively. Dan knows with certainty that his own blood type is AB negative. However, no blood type of anyone on Dan's mother's side is listed.
That's an inconvenience, but Dan has direct access to his mother's brother. There must be a way to use Regan's blood to trace back to his grandparents' blood types, and then trace forward to his mother's. Then Dan will be able to disprove his ridiculous suspicions.
He doesn't even know why he's spending so much time puzzling over the documents, or why his stomach is churning and his hands are clammy.
Good Lord, if he's feeling mistrust over a couple of papers, being friends with Trixie must really be getting to him. There's simply no other explanation for his doubts.
At least, that's what Dan tells himself as he folds his hands to make them stop shaking.
Now, it's just a matter of getting his hands on some of Regan's blood for testing. If he can cause an accident—maybe give Regan a bloody nose or have him cut his hand on sharp glass—
Instantly, Dan feels horrible for even thinking of such ideas, even though he's not sure how else he could wrangle some of Regan's blood. It's not like he can just walk up to his uncle and ask for a vial of it, after all.
Wait a minute . . . yes, he can. Never mind that it's summer; if Dan lies and says he needs it for science class at school, Regan will probably draw blood from himself on the spot, never mind that it's the summer. He's constantly on Dan's case about his performance at school. Admittedly, that's probably more because of the panicked phone calls he continually receives from Dan's creative writing teacher rather than Dan's actual academic ranking, which places him in the top five percent of his class.
"Hey, Mart," Dan says, gathering up the papers. "Do you think we can con Brian into driving us to the pharmacy? I need another prescription filled."
Mart's eyebrows rise. "More pills?"
"No worries," Dan informs him. "I'll keep these ones out of your parents' sight." Recently, during one of the many instances when Trixie shanghaied Dan into watching Bobby for her, he was sorting through his various prescription medications only for Mr. Belden to arrive home from the bank. Mr. Belden was intensely skeptical at Dan's explanation for possessing multiple bottles of medication, but Mrs. Belden serendipitously materialized and vouched for Dan's array of maladies.
"I was just surprised, that's all," Mart says hastily. "I didn't think you'd need to refill your prescriptions so soon."
"The latest sleeping pills the doctor gave me don't work," Dan lies. They work, but he doesn't want to use them; he likes his insomnia. "I have to get different ones."
"Then let's go," Mart says, instantly abandoning the comic book and leaping to his feet. "We might have to take Bobby with us—Moms is at her vinification class. But we'll go right now."
"Great." Dan smiles at him and leads the way out the door and down the stairs.
He's seen home blood tests for sale at the pharmacy. He can buy one and use it to test Regan's blood. Then he can find some answers.
Dan can't wait. He's ready to put his mind at ease and prove that everyone in his family is who they say they are.
Once at the drugstore, Dan feels his resolve waver and decline.
Transportation to the drugstore in Sleepyside was provided by a begrudging Brian Belden and his rattletrap car. At the moment, Brian and Mart are occupying Bobby by perusing the downtown sporting goods store.
Dan is grateful for the privacy. This decision would only be more difficult with an audience.
Sighing, Dan experimentally lifts one of the blood tests off of the shelf, and, gazing at it, contemplates his situation.
If he buys a blood test and uses it to find out information on his family, there's a good chance that some of the revelations will be less than ideal. And once he has that knowledge, there is no going back.
Furthermore, much as he loathes the idea of being manipulated or maneuvered, whatever new information comes to light would have been deliberately hidden by someone for their own reasons. People in his family, be it one or both of his parents, or Regan, wanted to prevent him from knowing the truth.
And if Dan does discover a secret about his family, that will be far from the end of his questions, and Dan knows himself. He'll want to keep looking for answers. If Regan has been a part of whatever conspiracy there is, Dan's quest for the truth might be the final blow that permanently drives them apart and prevents them from ever truly becoming a family.
The dull throbbing of an oncoming headache assaults Dan's temples, and he wearily runs a hand through his sleek black hair.
Jesus. Why. Why? Why does every goddamn aspect of his life have to be some sort of desolate, twisted Monkey's Paw scenario?
Before he can back out, Dan grabs the blood test, stalks to the register, and lays down cash.
A headache is pounding away at Dan's skull by the time he returns to the Maypenny cabin, and his bones ache with weariness. A single silver lining from the day's events is that the oppressive heat and humidity is diminishing as thunderclouds roll in.
The intensity of his heachache brings him to reference the worn book of old-fashioned remedies that was passed down through his mother's side of the family. After a brief consultation, Dan fixes himself a cup of black coffee flavored with lemon juice, and goes to sit outside on the porch swing. Still clutching the blood test, Dan sits and watches the lightning zigzag across the sky, and then listens to the ensuing heavy downpour for close to an hour.
The rain blurs the rest of the world till it's out of focus, rendering the surrounding trees nothing more than dark smudges on a darker canvas. Nothing is distinguishable from anything else; nothing stands out because everything has a place. There are no outliers, nothing to catch any particular attention.
Finally, when the rain clears, the sky is already darkening. Crickets chirp and cicadas hum, and occasionally the soft breeze pushes remaining water off the tree leaves, creating a miniscule imitation of another rainstorm. The final birdsong of the day begins, reverberating on the gentle wind and carrying throughout the trees and up into the Catskills. The sound seems to echo all around Dan, no call distinct and all one after the other, as if in a deliberate attempt to disorient any unfortunate wanderer unfamiliar with the woods.
With a sigh that is lost to the other sounds of the summer night around him, Dan rises and proceeds into the cabin. After placing his mug in the dishwasher, he returns to his room, where
he buries the blood test in the bottom drawer of his desk, settling it beneath his mother's remedy album.
Sometimes, secrets are worth keeping.
"There are no secrets that time does not reveal."
—Jean Racine
Notes:
Points for Meagan's One Hundred Point Challenge at Jixemitri:
5: A textbook (Brian's genetics textbook)
5: Appearance of a pet from the books (Reddy)
5: An old-fashioned remedy for an illness (Lemon juice in black coffee—sounds simply scrumptious, doesn't it? (; )
5: Someone sitting on a porch swing (Dan)
5: Extreme weather (The heatwave broken by the thunderstorm)
5: Mention of a relative in another state (Aunt Alicia, who lives in Maryland)
10: One of the Bob-White parents learning an unusual skill (Mrs. Belden's vinification class)
10: An embarrassing encounter between a parent and a Bob-White (Mr. Belden walking in on Dan sorting through his pills)
25: The two Bob-Whites who appear must not be related by blood or marriage (Dan and Mart)
25: A Bob-White being rescued from a sticky situation by a non-Bob-White (Mrs. Belden vouching to Mr. Belden that Dan was not in the drug business)