The Photograph
"You have no right to do that! You're not my father!"
"Dan'l, come back here!"
Brian McFadden was halfway out the door after Daniel when older brother Adam caught him by the arm. "Let him be, Bri."
The second eldest regarded Adam in disbelief. "Are you crazy? You're gonna let him get away with that?"
"He'll have to work it out on his own."
~~00oo00~~
Twelve-year-old Daniel sat in the hayloft, mindlessly tossing single strands of hay out the door. He imagined no one would find him there – a silly thought, he realized, given it was where all the younger McFadden boys went when they wanted to be alone and likely the first place the elder ones would look for him. Tough, let them find him. They could not do anything more to him to make him feel worse than he felt already.
His mind was made up. He would wait there until his immediately older brother and best friend came home. There were a couple jugs of water in the barn to quench a thirst while working in the warm June temperatures, and he had a snack bag of nuts in his pocket. Surely that would hold him until Crane returned the next day from Sacramento, where he was taking part in Boys State. Daniel was proud of Crane for being one of three boys in the high school selected to participate, but he missed him terribly. And given that the anniversary of that day was fast approaching – indeed, it fell on Father's Day this year – he wanted nothing more than to take refuge in the music he and Crane made together.
Why couldn't Adam understand that? Ugh! Yes, he knew that day hit them all hard – well, Evan on up probably. Ford was a little too young at the time to really understand what was happening and Guthrie at two had no memory of it at all. But the rest of them? Yes, it got a little easier as each year passed, but he looked forward to when that day might be a time only of sad but bittersweet reflection; to perhaps shed a tear but smile at the memories of the good times. Sure, Dad could be tough when he had to be. After all, seven boys could be a handful. But there was a softer side to him as well. And if Daniel was being honest with himself, big brother Adam had modeled very similar behavior in his role of brother-parent, a consistency the eldest strove hard to uphold. In these moments of confusion, Daniel turned to Crane as protector and listener, but Crane was elsewhere right now, and Daniel felt alone.
He thought back over the last couple of days to what had sparked this latest row – the photograph. A picture of the family taken just a few weeks before that fateful day. It was not at the time supposed to be a big deal that Daniel was not in it. He was on a school field trip that day, and the rest of the family were in town on an after-school shopping trip when a neighbor wanted to try out his new Polaroid camera and was taking random photographs of anyone who would let him. And he asked the McFaddens and they posed, said "cheese," and waited a moment while the film developed. Then, in a few minutes, there it was. Not the perfect picture, but a moment in time – Guthrie slightly blurred from squirming in their mother's arms, Evan's and Ford's mouths darkened from their drippy chocolate ice cream cones, Brian half-scowling in his then latest bout of teenaged angst, and the rest of them in various phases of a cheesy smile. It was hardly the best picture of them, but it was the last, and Daniel was not in it.
Their mother had put it in a spare frame for display on her husband's desk, and Daniel had at first joked he was glad not to be in it, given how silly some of them looked. But after that day, seeing it upset him, and brother Adam had quietly replaced the photo with a more appropriate one of the whole family, and the Polaroid was put away. But, just this week, while looking for something in his eldest brothers' room, he found it. With rekindled memories bothering him, the usually cooperative middle brother replaced Evan as the family terror, and brother number five turned tattletale, taking every opportunity to let Adam and Brian know whatever happened was Daniel's fault and not his. Much to Brian's disagreement, a couple of days of Daniel's acting out had Adam trying to take a measured approach. Understanding the boy was hurting, he did what he could to reason with him, but, finally, at the end of his rope, he had swatted him. The last straw for Daniel, he ran to the barn fully expecting the oldest two to give chase and make an example of him for the youngest three, but they did not. So here he was in the hayloft feeling lonely and sorry for himself, missing his parents and Crane and wishing he had his guitar.
~~00oo00~~
Ford finished setting the table for dinner when he noticed something amiss. "I'll get Daniel."
Reaching to place a casserole in the center of the table, Adam remarked, "Leave him be."
"But he'll miss dinner," the concerned nine-year-old responded.
Brian looked between brothers one and six but held his tongue.
"But, Adam …"
"Ford, sit down. It's your turn to say grace."
"But …"
"He'll come in when he's ready."
~~00oo00~
At Guthrie's bedtime, Adam led the five-year-old upstairs. He stepped into Crane and Daniel's room, only to turn and notice his youngest brother had not followed. Instead, he found him on his own bed in the room he shared with Evan and Ford.
"Come on, kiddo, this is the last night you get to sleep in Crane's bed. He'll be home tomorrow."
The small voice sounded even smaller. "I don't want to."
Adam sat down next to him. "But it's a big boy bed."
"Uh uh."
"Why not?"
The wide-eyed gaze was expectant but sad. "Will Daniel be there tonight?"
"That's up to Daniel, buddy." Adam pulled him close. "You're a big boy."
Guthrie snuggled closer into Adam's side. "But I don't want to sleep in there by myself."
~~00oo00~~
After shooing Evan and Ford off to bed, the eldest brothers sat in front of the television watching a movie about an orphaned boy's having to find homes for his younger brothers and sisters. It struck a nerve.
Brian got up. "I'm gonna change the channel."
"Bri, wait. I want to see the end of this."
The second eldest frowned. "It's too sappy."
"Maybe, but that could've been us."
Brian rolled his eyes. "Yeah, right. Like you would've given us away?"
"No, not me. The state."
~~00oo00~~
Adam reached the top of the ladder. The flashlight he held soon had a slumbering Daniel in its sights. The boy stirred and moaned softly, and Adam went to him.
The eldest squeezed his shoulder. "Don't you think you'd be more comfortable in your own bed?"
Daniel moaned drowsily and stretched. "Um hm."
"Come on in, then. It's getting chilly out here."
"Waitin' for Crane."
Adam smiled. The two were usually inseparable. "He won't be home until tomorrow afternoon."
Daniel burrowed deeper into the hay. "I know."
"C'mon, Danny. Get a good night's sleep and he'll be home before you know it."
The boy's eyes flew open. If he was trying to be hostile, he missed the mark, the exhaustion winning out. "I told you not to call me that anymore."
Adam pulled him close, his strength winning over Daniel's still drowsy resistance. "Are you too old now for me to tell you I love you?"
The question struck the boy. Waking further and realizing no one else was around, he snuggled into Adam's side. After a moment, he murmured, "Guess not."
"Well, I do. You know that, right?"
"Uh huh."
"And I know I'm not Dad. I'm just trying my best to keep us all together."
"I know."
"And I'm sorry you found that picture." Adam blinked back a tear. "It wasn't meant to be the last one."
"I know." Daniel sniffled and snuggled closer. They remained thus for a few minutes.
Finally, Adam urged, "Come on. Let's go in."
Daniel yawned and pulled away a little. "Guthrie snored last night."
Adam raised a brow. That was an original excuse. "Really? First time I've heard of that."
"Uh huh."
"Well, Guthrie's back in his own bed. He didn't know if you were coming in and didn't want to be by himself."
Daniel nuzzled closer again. "I don't either."
Adam chuckled softly to himself. Sometimes the older they got, the more childhood kept a hold on them. "What if I sleep in Crane's bed tonight?"
"Yeah?"
"Yeah."
Daniel grinned sheepishly. "Thanks, Dad."
