Chapter Two: Between Brothers
The Waller Creek Journal decided it would be easier to declare the whole month as record breaking. The daily temperatures continued to rise at least two degrees each day. It was finally Friday and the temperature was reportedly 110. Wanda sat on the couch in the living room in front of a large box fan.
"The devil is the only reason for this type of heat. He is so busy" she said casting a hard glare upon Miles.
A few seconds later, the high pitched horn honking of Ms. Sue Allen in her compact car broke the silence of the house.
"Ms. Allen out there, with her late behind" Wanda scoffed as she rose from the couch, "Boys!"
Miles looked up from the Dragon King and Trey emerged from the nearby hallway.
"Trey, finished fixing that car today and you" she said pointing her finger over Miles' book "stay outta that mailbox, you hear?"
Miles nodded as Wanda withdrew her finger. Another high pitched honk came from outside.
"I'm coming!" Wanda shouted as she grabbed her bags off the couch and headed out the door, but not before giving Trey another strong message.
"Fix. That. Car."
Miles returned to his book as the door slammed. Trey began dragging his feet into the kitchen, going through cabinets in search of food. Miles closed the book as he couldn't hold his questions any longer.
"Why can't I check the mail anymore? And why we are getting so many square envelopes? What is going on? Miles inquired as he slammed down his book and stood to face Trey.
"I don't know man" Trey answered making sure not to make eye contact with Miles.
"Trey, I know you know. I can feel it."
Trey sits Miles down in the chair and then sits across from him.
"Listen man, it will be a lot easier on you if just forget about those letters. Forget they came and that you ever saw them. It is a lot less painful this way…okay?" said Trey still not making eye contact with Miles.
"I still don't understand" Miles whimpered.
"Some things, you never will" said Trey as he left the table.
Even more discouraged than before, Miles could not finish reading and decided that he should return the book before the library closed for the weekend. He left home and began walking down the dirt road in front of his house. He paused at the mailbox. He stared at it with a heart full of rage but a mind full of curiosity. What was so bad about those letters? He thought. He shook off the thoughts and began his trek towards town.
Trey watched his little brother walk down the road and began to reminisce. He remembered being that young and carefree. He remembered living in a much different place and being much happier. He remembered when their father was still alive and then he remembered when he died. He also remembered soon after, square envelopes addressed to him began to show in the mail. Most sadly of all, he remembered what his mother did to make them stop coming. Trey stops his memories and begins to rub the palm of his right hand. He lifts the hood of the rusty old car and then begins his tinkering. Literally screwing, bolting and tapping away all his bad memories.
Miles finally reached town, drenched in sweat, and wishing that he had of remembered to take his bike. The usually semi-busy town center was just as empty as it had been all month. Miles walked pass the small shops towards the library which sat on the corner. Just as he crossed in front of Garvin's Grocery, he felt a sharp whack in the back of the head. He looked down to see a crush soda can on the side walk behind him. His heart sank to the soles of his shoes.
He looked up to see just what he feared, the Barrel boys. The Barrel family owned Barrel Bottling, Waller Creek's largest employer. The Barrel family was incredibly wealthy by rural south standards. Besides the bottling plant, they also owned the Waller Creek Journal and most of the land throughout Waller Creek. Bradley Barrel and his wife Bettie were two of the nicest people in Waller Creek as they did not let their fortune go to their heads. Their sons however we're a different story.
They had three sons: Barry, Bolton and Bruce. Barry, the oldest, was a slinky teenager who hung out with his younger brothers as they were the only ones who could tolerate his terrible attitude and the wheezing sound coming from his mouth breathing. Bolton, the middle child who preferred to be called Bolt, was the same age as Miles and the self-proclaimed leader of his brothers. Then there was Bruce. He was a small tike of only five or six, but he had taken down children twice his age and three times his size.
The Barrel brothers were not friends with any children in town as most saw them as bullies who bragged about how wealthy they were. They were especially not fond of Miles as before he moved to Waller Creek, Bolt was the smartest kid in the school. Every test, project and report Miles would always score a 99 or 100 while the highest Bolt could achieve was a 94 or 95. While for most, five points is not a big deal but for Bolt, five points made him second and Bolt Barrel was never second at anything.
Miles stood staring at the Barrels on their bikes. Bolt glared back at him with his eyes tight.
"Who threw that?!" Miles shouted.
"I did. It's hot out. Thought that you could use a good ole Barrel soda," Bolt laughed.
His brothers began to laugh as Miles stood on the sidewalk fuming with anger. He could feel himself getting hotter and hotter. Miles bent down and picked up the crushed can.
"Awww. Looksth like he wantsth to play catchsh" said Barry with his terrible lisp from braces. The Barrels burst out in laughter again. As they chuckled away, the can flew and hit Bolt in the center of his forehead, knocking him off his bike. Barry's and Bruce's jaw dropped. Miles stood on the sidewalk in shock. He barely put any energy behind the can but somehow it flew across the street with enough force to send Bolt flying off his bike.
"Why are you two idiots still sitting here? Get him!" demanded Bolt laying on the ground clutching his head in pain. The other Barrels immediately sped off behind Miles. Miles ran and ran to escape them. He turned the corner of Maple Avenue. Then cut through the town square. He hopped a small fence that surrounded the grass area. Barry made his bike hop over the fence with ease but Bruce hit the one foot tall structure and went flying off his bike. Two down, one to go Miles thought as he began to run down a small alley between Miss Sandra's Clothing store and the Waller Creek Café.
Miles saw the back door to the café and decided to run in as Barry obviously wouldn't ride a bike through the restaurant, would he? Miles hung a sharp right to the small loading area for the café and ran up to the door. It was locked. Miles looked around for a trashcan or stack of boxes or anything he might could hide behind, but the loading area was bare. He could hear Barry's tires coming down the alley. Miles began to panic and covered his face as he awaited the beating from Barry. The tires came to a loud screech. This was it. Miles was dead.
"Where'd he go?" Barry asked aloud. Miles looked in between his fingers to see Barry standing in front of him. He quickly closed them back out of fear of making eye contact with Barry's fists.
"I thaw you run down here!" Barry shouted "You can'th hide"
Miles removed his hands from in front of his face. Barry was standing only inches from him, yet he was looking around as if he didn't see him. Could he not see him? Barry threw down the bike and walked passed the seemingly invisible Miles and went up to the door of the café.
"Dang. I'tsth locked" Barry said kicking the door. Miles watching Barry look around the loading area without blinking an eye. He couldn't see him. Miles was completely invisible to Barry. Wheezing at double the pace as usual, Barry climbed back on the bike.
"I'd hide too losther! You're justh made becausth Bolt'sth going away to a boarding thschool for thmart people and you're thuck here in Waller Creek!" shouted Barry as he slowly walked the biked down the alley.
Miles watched him until he was out of sight. Miles walked out to the alley and jumped as he saw Barry still straddling his bike in the opposite direction. Miles stood there for a second as the boy seemed to be crying.
"Bolt getsth everything. Nothing ever happensth to me" Barry cried leaning over the handle bars. Miles almost went up to comfort him but then he heard a voice in the distance,
"Barry! Where are you stupid?! We're gonna be late for lunch!"
Barry wiped away his tears and began peddling towards Bolt's shouting. Miles turned and walked in the opposite direction with a whole new understanding of the Barrel brothers as well as another question he needed answering. What school was Bolt going to in the fall?
Miles's mind was still churning at full pace as he reached the library. He walked in to see Miss Sweeting atop a ladder, shelving books on the top shelf.
"Hey Miss Sweeting" said Miles sending a shock to Miss Sweeting who dropped all the books, slid down the ladder and then landed on her bottom.
"Miss Sweeting, are you alright?" asked Miles as he ran over to help her up.
"Yes. I'm fine Miles" she said dusting herself off, "You haven't been to the library in so long I started to wonder if you had disappeared to Malthazar"
Miles laughed at the reference to his favorite book, but then he remembered a part of the story.
"Miss Sweeting, what would you say if strange things began to happen to you" Miles asked.
"What type of things Miles?" she asked picking up the scattered books.
"You know like in the Dragon King. Before the king he was king. He was just a regular person and then out of the blue he knew how to use the sword and how to summon the dragon gems and how to speak the dragon language. Thing after thing kept happening to him until one day, he was king!" Miles exclaimed.
"Yes Miles, I've read this story" said Miss Sweeting, hesitantly climbing back up the ladder.
"Well Miss Sweeting, that's happening to me." He said proudly, "I'm becoming the Dragon King"
Miss Sweeting laughed as she shelved the books. Miles did not see the humor in his statement.
"Miss Sweeting, what else could it be?" Miles pleaded, " I mean the letters, the weird stuff happening, what else could be happening to me"
She finished the shelving and made it back down the ladder. She walked over to Miles holding his worn copy of the book. She took it in her hands and redirected Miles' focus to her. She recognized those eyes, they were similar to the ones that walked in to her library six months ago looking for just as many answers then as now.
"Miles, do you know why I suggested you read the Dragon King the first time you came to the library?" Miss Sweeting asked.
Miles nodded and told her "Because it's about people like me, with big imaginations."
"Exactly. Big,big, big imaginations. Bigger than all of Waller Creek, right?" she asked as Miles smiled along.
"Well, sometimes when our imaginations get too big, they begin to cause problems in our real lives. We start to think imaginary things are real. Miles, the Dragon King is an imaginary story, it is not real nor are any of the things in it" Miss Sweeting explained, "It is just a story, to make people feel good. To make them a little less lonely. To help them make it. That's why I gave you this book Miles, I want you to make it"
She gave Miles a tight hug and left him standing in the center of the library. Miles laid the book on a nearby table and turned to leave the library. He felt anything but good, less lonely or like he was going to make it. He walked out of the library, not knowing if he would ever return. The one person he thought would make sense of what was happening in his life, disappointed him just like everyone else. Miles drug his feet along the sundrenched sidewalk, with even more questions than before. The most important now being: Did any remember it's his eleventh birthday tomorrow?
Back on the dirt road, a stranger walked towards Miles' house. She was dressed in all black and her pointy but floppy hat continued to bounce it's way in front of her sweating face.
"It's hotter than spotted slug's breath in the winter down here" she shouted as she flipped the point of hat out of her face. "How do people live down here? Only No-maj's would subject themselves to such horror"
She continued to rattle off about the heat of Mississippi as she approached the rusty old mailbox marked Cassidy.
"I can never remember how to work these overly complicated things. Damn No-majs. Why can't everyone just use owls?"
Trey emerged from the house carrying a large glass of ice water. He almost spit out the water as he saw a woman kicking the mailbox at the edge of the yard. Even more perplexing was the fact the woman was dressed like a witch in the middle of August. She had on the whole get up, black dress, long black robe even the pointy hat that must have wilted in the summer heat. The witch eventually got tired of kicking the mailbox and ripped the hat from her head and began stomping it into the red dirt while cursing quite heavily. Her stomping and swinging of her arms finally opened the mailbox and the witch dropped to her knees in thankfulness.
After a few seconds of praising she rose to her feet and began rummaging through a leather bag that must have fallen off her shoulders at some point during her assault of the mailbox. The bag had I.S.W.W. Mail Fleet stamped on the side in big letters surrounding an envelope. The witch dug around the bag until she pulled a giant stack of envelopes out of the bag. She began stuffing the mailbox until it could barely close. After stuffing the last envelope in, she picked up her dusty hat and began walking away. Trey dropped the glass of water and took off behind the witch.
He ran and ran but when he reached the road there was nothing but a cloud of dust. It was as if the witch had blown away. After the dust had cleared, Trey looked down at the road and his eyes grew two times in size as he saw a few broom straws scattered about. He picked up one of the broom straws and inspected it and then dropped it a few seconds later. It must be the heat. Maybe he had worked on the car too long? Trey decided to go in the house out of the heat, hoping that it would calm his mind. He began to walk towards the house but not before stopping at the mailbox. He wanted to open it but he knew his mother and he knew what she was capable of.
He walked away from the mailbox. But it was as if it was calling his name. He physically felt drawn to it. But what about his mother's warning to Miles? He thought. He turned around and looked at the mailbox. He found himself walking towards it. What about what she did to me for opening the mailbox when I was 11? He thought still walking. Will she do that to Miles if she catches him? He thought stopping in front of the mailbox. I won't let her He decided as he reached to open the mailbox.
"Trey!" Miles shouted as he saw his brother reaching for the forbidden mailbox. "What are you doing? You heard Mama this morning."
"Look Miles, there's something in here and it's for you" Trey said grabbing Miles and raising him to eye level. "It could change your whole life."
"But what about what you said this morning?" Miles asked as his feet dangled in the air .
"I was wrong. I was scared. I didn't want…" Trey said hesitantly as he lowered his brother to the ground, "I didn't want to get your hopes up. I wanted to make sure I was right and I was. Miles we have to open the mailbox"
"Ok we'll open it together" said Miles reaching for the door of the mailbox.
Trey reached out his hand and placed it on the rusty door of the mailbox. The brothers took a deep sigh and pulled open the door. In an instant, a flood of envelopes spilled out onto the dirt road. Trey and Miles attempted to scoop them up in their arms. After a few seconds the boys had an armful and began to waddle back into their house, a few envelopes spilling from their arms along the way.
"All these are for me?" Miles asked with an ear to ear smile.
"Every single one buddy" Trey replied with an equally large smile.
They went into the house and Miles began opening the coveted envelopes. One by one, he read them all despite the fact they all said the same thing. Trey and Miles danced around in the pile of opened letters celebrating the news. Unbeknownst to them, their celebration was about to come to an end.