I own nothing.
One shot.
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He reached into his duffle bag, pulled out yesterday's newspaper, tore out a sheet and spread it over the seat. Even though his hands were being protected by gloves, he still grabbed a tissue before he reached across and switched on the fan. It wasn't particularly warm, but looking at all the dust collected on the blades was making him queasy, at least it'll be less noticeable while revolving. The filth was quite unimaginable - even to a guy who'd just served 18 months out of a 24 month sentence.
The guy at the front desk was a little surprised when he was handed the wad of cash. From the looks of things, Trey figured that he probably rarely rented out a room for more than a couple of hours talk less of seven full days. He realized that would make him stick out but he hoped that his wig, glasses and fake mustache would make the composite picture that would be undoubtably drawn for the cops look nothing like him.
Trey hissed when he realized that he needed to pee - he really shouldn't have drunk so much on the drive to the motel and he probably wouldn't have if he'd been able to think of something other than what he'd be doing in a few hours. He looked at his watch and knew that if his mom was punctual, like she always was during her 'clean spells,' she'd be knocking at the door in about thirty minutes. The dump was out of town in a somewhat secluded location and after he'd gotten his room keys, he'd used a pay phone to call and give her his room number and directions to the place. Trey didn't even have to stretch his imagination to picture what seeing her would be like because he knew it like the back of the hand. It was always the same thing -she'd walk in in a light yellow breezy shirt, hold him tight, apologize for all the hurt, and remind him that his love was what gave her the power to change her lifestyle. And like the good son he sometimes aspired to be, he'd believe her because she was his mother and he loved to see the smile on her face and beaming pride she exuded because she'd finally overcome her addiction. But not today. Not this time, because he remembered the throwing, kicking, hurtful words and all around destruction that came during the inevitable relapse.
Only three days earlier, she'd called to tell him all about the new technique in rehab that had worked for her. Yeah right. What hadn't she tried? From going cold turkey, to group meetings, to negative reinforcement… nothing had worked because she never really wanted to let go of those drugs. He could see it clearly now - jail had taught him that. They had pedophiles, burglars, murderers who kept committing the same crimes shortly after being granted their freedom. The fact was, no matter how many programs you get into, no matter the punishments or the consequences, if you don't want to quit, you won't. And he knew she hadn't let go of those demons because, why now? What was so different and special this time around? Absolutely nothing.
She'd gone on and on about getting the family back together. She claimed that she loved her two sons and wanted to live with them again so that they could work on loving one another the right way. She'd sworn that she only needed love from her two men and this time, even though they were older, they still had time to mend their relationship and become a real family.
Trey remembered their definition of family; endless arguments that always resulted in fisticuffs; alcohol induced bitching and moaning that inspired him to start staying away from home as early as ten; learning from this father that it was stupid to work hard when you could use your smarts to make that satisfying quick buck; sending the kids out in the middle of the night to score some drugs. Yeah, sure, he could bet that everyone would prefer that to living with the Jewish lawyer.
He hadn't been that thrilled about his little brother moving in with strangers but at the time, he really hadn't been able to help him and he figured it was better than living on the streets. Besides, Ryan really was too soft for his kind of life anyway. Too soft and too straight. Too bad, because as smart as he was, he really could have been someone out there on the streets. Trey remembered that by the time he'd gotten to kindergarten, he could already read. Not because his drunk mother had taken the time to teach him but because he was so curious that he'd pestered Trey and with a little of his help, he'd taught himself. Reading, writing, solving mathematical equations were skills that weren't quite as useful in Chino where some highschool graduates were unable to spell their own names.
But not in Newport, in that fancy-schmancy school he was attending. According to his guardian, Ryan was excelling in school and not getting beat up for it. He'd received their invitation to dinner the day after he'd informed his brother of his parole. He'd initially declined because he wasn't ready to hear some hypocritical snobbish lawyer tell him how he was a bad influence and it'll be best for everyone if he stayed away. But he changed his mind when he saw it as an opportunity to see his brother and bring him back with him. However, he hadn't been quite prepared for what he'd seen - a happy Ryan.
He hadn't seen him smile since he was a little kid and didn't understand what was going on around him. He'd been particularly perceptive and sensitive and once he'd realized -from reading Trey suspected- that his family life wasn't quite normal, he'd never really been happy. Sure, he sometimes smiled and tried to put up an indifferent front but Trey knew that it stopped at the surface. But there he was a dinner, talking to his weird friend, and even though he wasn't all beams, the difference in this body language was unmistakable because he just had that relaxed, satisfied air about him - something Trey had never noticed before.
After dinner, he'd been pulled aside and told all about his progress. The lawyer felt that as Ryan's brother, he needed to know how he was doing. He didn't once mention his conviction and instead, spoke to him man to man, like he respected him as he would any other sibling or even a parent. With them, Trey could see him make something for himself. Hell, if he wanted to become a lawyer or a doctor, there was nothing stopping him because he had the love of these warm people to depend on. Yet his mother wanted to take him away from this family. The family that only demanded good behavior and hard work from him, not one who expected him to use his intelligence to put food on the table. A family that treated him like one of their own, not one where the mother sometimes blamed her children for being born because they spoiled her figure and took away her freedom. A family that wanted the best, not one that expected the worst. There was no way Trey was going to let her do that.
He'd tried to explain it all to her- Ryan was doing great and there was no reason to uproot him from a place that was now his home, but she'd refused. She claimed that she'd have the law on her side, and with proof of her sobriety and new status of employment, they couldn't keep her from her underage son. It was her right to have him back and she was going to evoke it.
So Trey came up with a plan. Growing up, he'd never been much of a big brother. Sure, he let him tag along with him sometimes, but he never really paid that much attention to him. He usually used him selfishly, whether it was to get chicks or help him out with some deals. But now that he was older, he felt that if he could help him somehow, he should, after all, he really did love him. But it was going to be tough.
This was the one field in which he was a virgin. Sure, when he was a teenager, he and few of his friends had gone into a neighbor's yard and beheaded all his chickens. But they were doing the neighborhood a favor - the darned roosters woke everyone up at dawn and even though there'd been a lot of complaints, the bastard hadn't done anything about it. So they took matters into their own hands and shut down that operation. Just like he was about to do.
Before he could glance at his watch, he heard the footsteps get louder - he could recognize that sound in his sleep. He knew what it sounded like when she dragged those feet in a drunk stupor or marched in an angry rage or even when she skipped in happiness. Right then, he could hear her strutting with pride.
He opened the door and saw her fist raised -she'd been about to knock at it. Her bleach blonde hair was packed in a pony tail, the wind was blowing her light blue shirt against her slightly plump body and her face was covered in a warm smile. She pulled him to her and held on tight. Instead of the usual smell of cheap perfume she normally doused herself in to cover up the stench of alcohol and the drug de jour, Trey got a whiff of her strawberry scented hair.
When she let go of him, Trey stepped aside so that she could walk past him then he shut the door behind her.
Unimpressed, she looked around the room. "Trey, this is exactly why you should move in with me. At least, I can clean the house a little better than this," she said, dusting off a chair before sitting on it. "I know your girlfriend kicked you out, but I really would like you to move in with us. You should see the apartment - it's really nice," she beamed.
Seeing that freshness and look of contentment on her face made him wonder if she'd finally cleaned up, once and for all, till he remembered that she'd borne the same look the last ten times she'd come to the "realization that she had a problem."
"So when do we pick Ryan up?" she asked, stretching across the table to turn the fan off. Trey reached into his pocket and felt the hard, cold metal - the time had finally come.