Warnings:Strong language
Chapter 1: Snow
Part 4
Ivan smiled— a soft, genuine one —and turned his smooth steps towards the boy. "I just ran into a friend. His name's Sadiq."
Sadiq was torn between extending congeniality to the boy or hatred towards Ivan. They were not friends. Ivan was too much of an asshole for him to consider otherwise. He grumbled for a moment before remembering where he was and who was staring at him. He found it within himself to force a grin towards the boy. He straightened his jacket and folded his hands in front of his pelvis.
The boy gave him a skeptical look. Blue eyes skimmed up and down his frame. "Sadiq." The boy made a sour face. "That's a weird name."
Sadiq's smile flushed into a frown. "It's weird you're sitting in the middle of a road," he replied, sounding tight. "Are you trying to kill yourself?"
"Maybe." The boy let his words hang in the air for a moment before shrugging. "No one but Mathias drives down here anyways," he said, "and it hasn't killed me yet."
Sadiq had to bite back the laugh that threatened to leave him. "You are wonderful ray of sunshine, aren't you?"
"I'm mature for my age."
"You're, like, ten."
The boy's face flushed red. "I'm eleven!" he snapped.
Sadiq rolled his eyes and brushed him away. "Same difference. You're still pretty depressing for a little kid."
"I'm not a little kid." As if to prove himself, he scrambled off the ground and onto his feet. He was short, the wisp of his hair barely reaching the middle of Sadiq's chest. Even though his words were sharp and insulted, his tone remained caught in the gray zone of indifference. The boy folded his arms over his chest and turned his eyes towards a stray corner in his vision. He mumbled a few words under his breath, but he was too far away for Sadiq to hear them.
Ivan flashed them a large smile, raising a silencing hand. "That's enough you two," he chirped. "No need to fight. Sadiq, say you're sorry."
Sadiq tried to groan. He tried to give Ivan the cold shoulder the junior undoubtedly deserved. But the boy was still standing stark in the middle of the road and he could not bring himself to utter those words. Instead, with a reluctant sigh, he said, "Okay, fine. I'm sorry, kid."
The boy pursed his lips. "I have a name," he said.
"Well you didn't tell it to me."
He was silent for a long moment.
"Emil," he said at last. "It's Emil Denson."
Sadiq's eyes shot down at the top of his head, dissecting each strand of hair. Emil looked nothing like the Denson he remembered. He wondered if he and Ivan knew two different Densons.
"Can we go inside now?" Ivan asked, already moving towards the break in the tree line where there was the mouth of a gravel driveway. "We need to talk to Mathias."
Emil grumbled, but followed after him. Sadiq stared at their backs, watching the hairs at the nape of their necks sway with each step. "Is Mathias 'Denson?'" Sadiq asked, planted in his spot.
Ivan turned and gave him another one of his deceitful smiles. "We'll just have to find out now, wouldn't we?"
Again, Sadiq wondered how crazy he was for believing in someone who wanted to experiment on him. Again, he thought about turning around, only to once again trotted after the teen.
The driveway was long, more like a street than a path to a house. It went flatly for the first quarter mile, curving this way and that. Then it sloped upward, going up the side of the mountain. The gravel was looser here, small pebbles raining down behind their sneakers. Emil and Ivan exchanged a few words, but none were of importance to Sadiq. At the top of the hill the driveway ran for a few yards before ending at a quaint home.
It reminded Sadiq of the brochures his mother, a travel agent, used to bring home. His mother's suitcase had been filled with brochures of faraway places and people, all grinning with bright smiles too perfect to be real. As a child, Sadiq had flipped through the images, taking in the jungles of the Amazon or the cobble streets of Madrid. Many of the brochures advertised family owned Bed and Breakfasts— small cottages with charming shutters and color coordinated gardens. The house in front of him made him feel like he was stepping inside one of those fantasies. It was a powdered blue color, complete with a crisp white porch and window frames. A tire swing hung from a slanted pine tree whose needles brushed the roofing with ease. Ivan's truck was parked on the house's other side.
The whimsical sight left Sadiq with a large grin on his face, but unlike the people in the brochures, this one was not fake.
Emil ran ahead of them. His feet pounded on the steps of the wooden porch before he reached the screen of the front door. He craned his head inside, calling, "Mathias!" Sadiq and Ivan barely heard a man yell in reply. "Ivan brought some weirdo here to see you!"
"I'm not a weirdo!" Sadiq barked. Ivan cracked into a burst of laughter. Sadiq sent him a sharp glare. "What are you laughing at, Braginski?"
Ivan hid his smile until it was nothing more than a quivering line across his face. "It's funny because you are a weirdo," he said.
Before Sadiq could think to snap back, the house's screen door banged open. "I wanna see the weirdo!" A tall man at the door yelled. Sadiq was immediately taken back by his height— this man was so tall he had to duck through the doorway. His yellow hair was organized by layers, each skewed in this direction or that. Most strikingly was the pair of blue eyes set in his face. They were too light to even be considered a real blue. They were more like white, nearly as white as snow.
Sadiq paused in his steps, staring at the man. Old memories trickled from the depths of his head, playing the same scene over and over again. Denson, holding out a hand, lifting him onto his back, rambling aimlessly as he marched through the snow. Sadiq's mouth felt dry. He ran his tongue over his chapped lips. This wonder-eyed blond was the right Denson, no doubt about it.
Denson leaned against the door frame, wiping his hands on his russet sweatshirt. He peered at Sadiq with narrow eyes. "You look kinda familiar, weirdo," he said. "Do I know you?"
Sadiq reached to take his hat off his head, only to remember that he was not wearing one. His hands went all over his body as he tried to figure out what to do with them. He started to bow before realizing that it would only make him look like as weird as they said he was. Somehow, he found his pockets. He shoved his hands into them and tried to grin. It felt strained. "We've met before," he said unevenly. "You saved my life, Officer."
Denson looked at him for a moment longer. "Oh yeah, I remember you. You're Sadiq, right?"
He nodded.
The police officer laughed and left the door. A few long strides took him straight into Sadiq's face. He was nearly a full head taller than Sadiq. Before Sadiq had the sense to move, he wrapped his long arms around the teen's chest and squeezed. Tightly. "You've grown so much!" Denson gushed, lifting Sadiq off his feet. Sadiq bit back a yelp. "OhmyGod you're heavier too! How much have you been eating?"
Sadiq wheezed. Ivan's boisterous laughter made him want to commit murder, an action not taken too kindly by police officers, like the man who was currently squeezing him like he was a nearly finished tube of toothpaste. Sadiq squirmed, trying to pull himself loose. "I've eaten," he choked. "Can you put me down now, Officer Denson?"
Denson released him, saying, "First off, thank you for eating. Food is good for you. Second, call me Mathias. 'Officer Denson' makes me sound old."
"But you are old," Emil said, sounding bored.
"I'm twenty-nine!"
"You've been twenty-nine for the past four years."
Mathias turned to Ivan. "Help me out here. You know I'm young, right?"
A smirk returned to Ivan's face as he placed a hand on the child's small shoulder. "The kid speaks the truth."
Mathias glared between him and Emil, his lips drawn in an almost pout. "You two speak blasphemy." With a sigh, he buried his hands into his red jacket. "Well I'm heading inside now. Anyone who wants some soda can follow me."
He strode towards his house, passing by Sadiq's nose. He paused in his steps, turning half way back to the teen. "Sadiq," Mathias barked, causing him to jump, "you want soda." With that, he headed inside.
Sadiq stayed in his spot, puzzled. Was Mathias asking him a question? It sounded more like an order. Should he risk telling this guy, who definitely did not act like his romanticized angel, that he hated soda?
Ivan ushered Emil towards the door, a large grin on his face as they passed. "You look like a lovesick girl," he quipped.
Sadiq scowled and followed them inside.
The Denson house was surprisingly clean. As Sadiq's eyes adjusted to the sudden light of the inside, he realized how cramped it was. The front door opened into an immediate hallway, separating the house into two. On his left was a doorway with no door, leading into a crisp dining room. A few paces down was another doorway, this one leading to a small kitchen. At the very end of the hallway he saw the arm of a plush couch, no doubt meant for a living room. Sadiq unzipped his jacket, skimming his eyes over the baby blue wallpaper of the narrow corridor.
The walls were lined with neat row upon neat row of family pictures. Sadiq dared to step towards one, peering at the five men who crowded around an elderly lady. Although they had the same pale skin and near-transparent hair, none of them looked alike. "Those are my adopted brothers."
Sadiq jumped, realizing that Emil was standing behind him. The quiet kid wore a dour look on his eyes, his bangs casting shadows across his eyes. Sadiq stared down at him, frowning. "Adopted?"
Emil nodded. "Yeah. We're all foster kids. That lady there's Auntie Norra. She took us all in until she died."
Sadiq shifted awkwardly on his feet, playing with the ends of his jacket. "I'm sorry to hear that," he said.
"Don't be." Emil's eyes met his in a straight, unwavering stare. "She never let me outside."
Before Sadiq had the thought to reply, Ivan's head appeared at the end of the hallway. "Emil!" he yelled. "You need to hear the story about how Adnan broke his girlfriend's heart!"
"She's not my girlfriend!" Sadiq shouted back as Emil called an agreement and ran to him.
Mathias stuck his head out of the kitchen doorway. "Don't run in the house, Emil!" He yelled. "Ivan, don't get him too excited! You both know the rules!" Sadiq stared at him as he grumbled something inaudible. How could someone so spontaneous enforce boring rules like those? Perhaps that was why this man chose to be a police officer. Mathias started to return to the kitchen, but stopped when he noticed Sadiq. "Hey, weirdo. Come in here and choose a drink."
Sadiq shook his head. "I don't drink soda—"
"Just get in here."
Sadiq felt the tips of his ear burn as he shuffled into the kitchen. It was as small as he had predicted. Chestnut cabinets lined most of the walls, save for the area reserved for a small circular table cluttered with elementary school books and work. Sadiq kept his hands in his pockets as he stood by Mathias, waiting for him to speak. He watched Mathias busy himself by stirring a pot of what looked to be red sauce.
Mathias hummed a small tune. He placed his wooden spoon on the counter by the stove top, releasing a small exhale of breath. "You know if someone told me ten years ago that I would be trying to raise a kid all by myself while working as a highway patrolman I would have called them crazy."
"You're by yourself?" Sadiq asked. "Emil said that he had brothers. What about them?"
Mathias sighed again, leaning into the counter as he wiped his hands on his jeans. "Well Berwald got a scholarship years ago, became a businessman, and hasn't spoken to us since. Tino was with him for a bit, but eventually joined the military and became a sniper. Lukas just left. Don't know where he is or what he's doing. So it's just me and Emil now." Mathias smiled. "Don't blame them. 'House Dad' wasn't my first career choice either."
"I'm sor—" Sadiq stopped himself. Emil shot him down when he tried to give his condolences. Mathias might try to do the same. He instead shrugged, leaning his back into the pantry door. "So."
Mathias nodded. "So indeed."
Dead air hung around them. They heard Ivan recounting the events of Sadiq's detention a few days prior. Was it really such a short time ago? It seemed much longer to Sadiq.
"So Emil said that you wanted to talk to me," Mathias said.
Sadiq gulped. "Not really," he replied carefully. "I just wanted to meet you."
"I see." Mathias looked at the dirt beneath his nails. "Well, we've met. I guess now we just have to talk. Anything come to mind?"
He shrugged, weighing his options on his shoulders. "I guess I want to know more about you."
"Me?" Mathias released a hearty laugh, one that made Sadiq feel foolish. "There really isn't anything much to say about me. I'm twenty-nine years old, raising a kid, and working as a cop. Not much there."
"I think it's pretty cool," Sadiq said. "That's a lot for one man to do. I can't even raise my own brother."
The smallest of smiles fitted itself on the adult's face. He moved around Sadiq and walked to the fridge. "That's another similarity between us," he said, bending down to the lower shelf. He pulled out a can of Coke and tossed it to Sadiq. "We're both trying to raise younger brothers while coping with alcoholic parents." He didn't seem to notice Sadiq's shocked look as he closed the fridge with his hip, opening a can of soda for himself. "It's a small world, ain't it?"
"How did you know my dad's a drunk?"
He shrugged. "Lucky guess. You can sort of feel these sort of things on others."
Sadiq was quiet. He knew that if any other person mentioned his little secret, he would have been reeled into that nauseating state of vertigo, the stench of tonics clogging his nose. But despite the tenseness of in his shoulders, he felt perfectly fine. Something about the way Matthias dropped the truth made him feel at ease.
"That was actually why I went into foster care," Mathias said, taking a sip of his drink. "Mom was out of the picture and my dad was a sick drunk. The neighbors called the police with a noise complaint and the officers walked in on a case of domestic abuse instead." Mathias cracked his neck. "Let's see, I was put with Auntie Norra right away, so I was pretty lucky. Norra was a nice lady." He brought the can to his lips again. "Please tell me that your dad didn't give you that?" He motioned to the bruise on Sadiq's cheek.
Sadiq placed a hand over it. He had nearly forgotten that was there. "No, I got into a fight at school."
"I hope that's true."
They were silent for a long moment. They heard Emil laugh at a joke Ivan made.
"So how old is your brother?" Mathias asked.
Sadiq looked down at his Coke, wondering how long it would take Mathias to realize he wasn't going to drink it. "Fifteen."
"That's a difficult age."
"He doesn't like me," Sadiq said abruptly. The last argument he waged with Heracles came rushing back to him. His grip tightened, creating little dents in the aluminum. "He says that I'm too harsh on him, but he's the one who's irresponsible."
An incident two years previous came to him. Sadiq had found a bag of weed in his brother's backpack. That sparked a particularly bad screamfest, one that ended with Heracles fleeing to his friend Kiku's house for a week. The frustration from before flooded his senses, making the blood rush through his muscles.
"I just can't trust him to make the right decisions and…" He stopped himself, remembering who he was talking to. Without turning his head, he turned his eyes towards Mathias.
Mathias's brows were set with gravity, a look that did not suit his easygoing features. His eyes were much too bright for such gloominess. He ran a large hand through his hair, setting the imperfect layers into a new design. "That sounds tough," he said. "I can't really say anything about that. I've never been in the situation."
He turned back to the pot at the stove, checking the level of the flames. "I've learned something as a dad, though. You have to give up somethings in order to be a good one. I was going to join some sailing crew right out of high school and travel the world, but I realized that Auntie Norra's health was declining and someone had to stick around for Emil. I still sorta wish that I dumped the job on someone else, but I don't mind. Not really."
He gave the contents of the pot one last stir before turning off the heat completely. "There! Another meal successfully made!" He beamed.
Sadiq looked at the pot, seeing the red liquid bubble along the rim of the pot. "What is it?" he asked.
Mathias opened a cabinet, pulling white bowls into his hands. "Campbell's tomato soup." Sadiq made a face. He hated canned soup. It was always too salty for his taste. Mathias craned his head towards the doorway, yelling, "Emil, come take your medicine."
Emil yelled back a listless "okay" before shuffling his way into the kitchen. That scowl was still twisted on his lips, his eyes still laden in a gloomy shade. "Can you move?" he asked. It took Sadiq a moment to realize that he was blocking the medicine cabinet. Muttering an apology, he moved to the table. He watched Emil pour himself a few pills from an orange prescription bottle. His hand shoved them into his mouth before diving into the pocket of his jeans. His other hand brought a glass of water to his lips.
Sadiq almost asked him what the pills were for, but he stopped himself. It wasn't his business.
"Ivan! Are you and Sadiq staying for dinner?" Mathias called out again, spreading a stack of bowls around a table.
Ivan shouted something incoherent. He appeared at the doorway, leaning against the white molding, the picture of perfect ease. "I'll do what Adnan wants," he said.
Mathias looked towards Sadiq.
Sadiq grimaced, shaking his head. "I should be heading home."
"Are you sure?" Mathias asked.
Heracles drifted into Sadiq's mind. The kid would be waiting for him at home, most likely wondering why his brother had been suspended. He could already feel the argument brimming on the tip of his tongue. It wasn't going to be pleasant.
"Yes, I'm sure," Sadiq said.
Mathias escorted them back to Ivan's car. Sadiq did not want to accept the ride, but the ever darkening sky pushed him into the shotgun seat. Ivan patted the top of Emil's head as he said goodbye, promising to return soon. He engulfed Mathias's tenuous frame his in arms before finally hopping into the driver's seat. Sadiq told himself not to be jealous.
As the old truck pulled down the winding driveway, gravel and dirt crackling beneath its tires, Sadiq found himself wallowing in self-pity. He liked the strange family. He liked the depressing little kid and his overzealous brother. He wanted to return to the cottage, but he knew he couldn't. At least, not without Ivan's help. Sadiq would kill himself before he asked Ivan for a favor.
"Where do you live?"
Sadiq turned away from the window, realizing that the trees were breaking away. Everest rose into view, drawing closer with each descending turn around the mountain. Soon they would be driving back into the heart of Everest, back into the old town of people who hated him. Sadiq leaned back into his chair, feeling his mouth grow ever dryer. "You can just drop me off on Main Street."
Ivan shook his head. "No way. It's dark out and you're going to get mugged."
"There's no crime here, idiot."
Ivan sighed. "Yes, but do you see how the lantern of the night is rising on the horizon, soon to dominate the sky with these blessed candles of the night?"
Sadiq rolled his eyes. "Wonderful, Romeo. What is that? Shakespeare?"
"Actually, yes."
Sadiq snorted. Ivan laughed. The animosity building between them melted away for a small second. But the small second was wide enough for Sadiq to tell him his address. The silence settled between them again, filling every inch of the car, even the small cracks in the leather seats.
Ivan pulled up to Sadiq's house as the yellow street lights lit up like lightning bugs. Ivan leaned forward, trying to peer at the white wash sidings. "It looks nice," he said offhandedly. His eyes skimmed over the vast gaps between the house and the other homes of the neighborhood. "You have a lot of privacy."
Sadiq could not help but to grin. "It comes in handy for all the crime I like to do," he said, popping the door open. He slid onto the pavement, the edges of his toes touching his overgrown grass. He shut the door closed and started for his house. His foot barely landed the first step when he stopped himself. Releasing a hot breath, he turned back to Ivan's truck. "Thanks for the ride, Braginski," he said, burying his hands into his jacket pockets. "And for showing me Denson." He shrugged. "Just thanks."
Ivan did not bother to hide his smile. "Anytime, Sadiq." Thinking they were done, Sadiq started for his house again. "Hey, Sadiq."
He stopped again, this time heaving a large sigh. "What is it, Braginski?"
"What was your mom's name?"
Sadiq stared at him, unsure if the swell in his stomach was from worry or fright. Ivan's eyes were set in the pure, palpable determination that only he was capable of. There was a plan firing between the neurons in his brain, one that would surely drag Sadiq under. Sadiq regarded him with a cold eye. "Why?"
Ivan shrugged. "Humor me." Sadiq started to shake his head. "Or at least try to pay me back for introducing you to Mathias and Emil and giving you a ride home."
He had a point. "Her name was—" He stopped himself. He was thankful for everything Ivan had done, but he was only willing to go so far. His mother's name was not a secret, but it was personal. Holding it close to his chest seemed like the only just was to exalt her memory.
Without another word, Sadiq trekked through his lawn, up the porch stairs, and through the door to his house. The screen door slammed shut behind him. Sadiq winced. Hopefully Ivan wouldn't chase after him.
"'Bout time you came home." Heracles stood in the kitchen, leaning his back into the counter as the microwave hummed behind him. A captious vibe twisted his mouth and furrowed his thick brows.
Sadiq looked between him and the rest of the house, realizing that the kitchen was the only room with its lights on. "Is Dad home?"
"Not yet."
The microwave chimed a bell, its insides lighting up. Sadiq watched Heracles pull out a plate of leftovers. "So how are you—"
"Why did you get expelled?" Heracles did not look up from his food. "Word has it you murdered some freshman kid."
Sadiq sighed. Of course Heracles would want to know about that. He spoke in his calmest voice. "I'm sure Kiku has already told you—"
"I don't care what Kiku told me." Heracles yanked open a drawer and pulled out a fork. "I want you to tell me."
He stared at his brother. Heracles's curls bounced with every bitter jerk of his head. He thought it was strange to see Heracles move like that when his voice remained in a nonchalant monotone. Sadiq moved from the front door, walking like an uninvited guest into the kitchen. "Well I didn't murder anybody," he explained, stopping at their kitchen table. The wooden circle was cluttered with old papers, junk mail, homework, anything Sadiq could think of. "And I'm not expelled either. I'm just suspended for a week."
Heracles nodded. "I see."
Sadiq waited for him to say something else, but the boy was mute. Sadiq tried for a smile. "That means we can have fresh meals every day for a week," he offered, his happy tone strained.
Heracles went to another cabinet, fetching a paper napkin. "What about work?"
His futile smile dropped off his face. Pressure rose in his chest as his knees grew suddenly very heavy. Sadiq pulled out the nearest chair from its tucked place against the table. "The thing about that," he said, lowering himself into it like an old man, "is that we may need to cut back on a few things for a bit."
Heracles's brow shot up. "Why? Don't tell me…"
Sadiq clasped his hands and nodded. Their father, despite his drunkenness, rarely had to be reminded to pay for the general bills, but whatever food and clothes and whatnot either of his sons wanted was paid for by Sadiq.
Heracles stared at his brother with a large look of concern. Then, as if remembering who he was talking to, he wiped it away. "Why?" he asked, gathering his food and things together.
"I fucked up." Sadiq looked back at him, the optimism in his eyes thin and taut. "But we'll manage. I'll get a new one soon." He watched Heracles nod. "In the meantime I can cook more meals and…" He trailed off, realizing that Heracles was taking his food upstairs. "Are you going to eat up there?" Sadiq asked.
Heracles did not bother to look back at him. "Yeah."
Sadiq thought about ordering him to stay in the kitchen and talk to him, but he decided against it. The kid probably had homework he needed to work on. Sadiq let him go, listening to the soft thuds of his feet hitting each stair. It continued until the closing of a bedroom door ended it. Sadiq stayed in his chair, looking around the empty house.
For a moment, he imagined how different the scene would look if his mother was still around. A ghost of her stood at the stove, stirring the contents of a pot. The TV in the living room was on, but the voices were talking to an attentive, respectable man. Heracles sat on the floor in front of the sofa, switching his eyes between the screen and the game of solitaire on the floor. The clutter at Sadiq's elbow was cleared, replaced with schoolbooks. He could faintly hear his mother ask for him to set the table when he ended the dream.
Sadiq sat in the chair, illuminated by the lamp hanging over the table. If it was summer, he could have listened to the repetitive cycle of cicadas outside the window or the flutters of moths as they swarmed the lamp above him. Autumn lay around him. Winter lied over the horizon. Nothing was alive right now.
Headlights flashed against the window curtains. Sadiq rose, quickly peering outside. A part of him hoped that it would be Ivan and his truck returning with more obnoxious questions.
Instead he saw his father's car park haphazardly on the driveway.
Sadiq pulled the curtains back. Then, wordlessly, he trotted up the stairs and retreated into the crevasse of his room.
The next morning, Sadiq woke up early to make Heracles breakfast. He thought his brother might smile if he saw a batch of freshly made pancakes, but the boy barely reacted. He still ate them and muttered a sullen thanks afterwards. After that, Sadiq hid in his room until his father left for work. Once alone, he cranked up the radio and cleaned the house. He slowed cooked a pack of chicken breasts he found in the fridge, filling the house with a delicious smell.
That made Heracles brighten when he came home. For the first time in months, the two cleared away the kitchen table and had a sit down dinner. They did not talk much, but for Sadiq it was enough.
The day after that started in a similar way. Sadiq made breakfast, hid in his room, and emerged to do household chores.
Things changed a little before noon.
Sadiq sat on the overhang over the front patio, cleaning the bedroom windows, his mind engulfed in the music emitting from the open kitchen window below him. He was wiping away the cleaner with an old rag when a voice called out, "Sadiq!"
Every muscle in his body stiffened as his spirits dampened. Carefully, so as to not fall, he turned around and saw Ivan climbing out of his truck. "What the hell are you doing here?" Sadiq demanded. "Shouldn't you be at school?"
Ivan shot him a cheerful look, one that complimented his worn brown jacket and torn jeans. "I could do more good here than I ever could there. Mind if I come inside?"
"Yes."
Ivan ignored him and walked up the porch step anyways. Sadiq heard the screen door open and close, swearing. Of course Ivan would be here. He shouldn't have expected anything better from him. Sadiq reentered the house through his open window, muttering angrily with each step. When he marched down the stairs, he found Ivan lounging at the kitchen table, a can of soda in his hands.
Sadiq marched to the radio and switched off the music. He returned to his previous spot and stared at Ivan. He had no idea what to say. The upturn of Ivan's smirk brought the words back to him. "I don't know if I should ask you what you are doing here or where you got the soda from."
"Well the soda is from Matthias, who noted you never drank the one he gave you and is greatly offended." He took a drink from it, as if to underline the point. "And I am here because I think I can do you another good favor."
"Another?"
"I consider introducing you to Mathias and Emil the first one."
Sadiq sighed. "You have a point there." He dragged his feet to the table, pulling up another chair. He placed it in front of Ivan. He sat in it, his arms crossed over his chest. "So what is it?"
"You want to see your mother again, right?" Ivan ignored Sadiq's stunned look as he pulled out his phone. "Well I did a little research and I found her—"
"What do you mean my mother?"
Ivan gave him a stern look. "I mean I asked your brother yesterday what your mom's name was and did a little googling," he said, sliding his thumb over the surface of his phone. "Anyways, I found one Helena Karpusi in the tristate area. She's a real estate agent in Golden Valley City, which is about a two day drive from here." He held out his phone. "This is her website, which conveniently has a recent picture of her. I thought she looked a lot like Heracles, but it's your mom so you should recognize—"
Sadiq snatched the phone from his hands. Holding it close to his face, he saw the smiling face of his mother. She stood next to a sold lawn sign, smiling in her smart pencil skirt and blouse. Her lips were painted red, matching the cloth band that held her mass of chocolate curls away from her olive face. Her face was the way it had always been, save for the new wrinkles carved around her mouth and eyes. She was older, but she was still his mom.
Sadiq had to force his eyes away. He could practically hear his muscles tear from the effort. He looked up at Ivan. "You know where she is?" he asked.
"And I can take you to her."
Sadiq looked back at the picture— she had Heracles's eyes! —and back at Ivan. "Why?"
Ivan shrugged. "Like I said yesterday: you're a screw up and I'm bored enough to help."
"But that doesn't explain—"
"Yes it does." Ivan leaned in his seat, stretching his arms behind his head. "Let me lay this out for you," he said. "I can drive, you can't. The city is a state away, so you can't walk there. You can't take the train or bus since you've been fired and can't risk spending that much money. It's a two day drive to the city, so if we leave now with plans to spend one day there, we can make it back home before your suspension is up. If you waste any more time, things may not be cut that nicely again. Focus less on why I am doing this and more on the fact that I can help you."
Ivan stood, placing his can of soda on the table. "I shall be waiting in my car. If you're not there in ten minutes, I will presume you said no and drive away and never give you this offer again. If you want to go, then come outside before then with enough clothes packed for a week." Ivan started for the door, speaking again before Sadiq could say anything. "And bring a pillow and blanket. I'm not paying for motels, so we're going to have to camp in the car."
He let the door slam shut behind him. Sadiq watched Ivan climb back into his car from the kitchen window. He turned the junior's phone in his hands. See his mom again? Has he really been given this opportunity? Should he even trust Ivan with this? For all he knew, this could be part of the mechanisms of an extravagant prank.
Sadiq lowered his head and sighed.
But it was his mom.
"Goddamnit." Sadiq ran up the stairs, busting the door to his room open. Ten minutes was not enough time to get ready for this sort of thing. Leave it to Ivan to make his life difficult, even when he was trying to help. Sadiq emptied his backpack and stuffed it with whatever clothes he could find. He threw a few blankets in there as well and tucked his pillow beneath his arm.
He wrote a note to Heracles before he left, telling him to take care while he was gone. He didn't mention their mother. A voice in his head told him to keep that a secret for now. After double checking that all of the windows and doors were locked, Sadiq ran outside.
Wordlessly, he tossed his belongs into the backseat of Ivan's truck and climbed into the shotgun. Ivan smirked. "Good. Let's go."
MW: By the way, this story is now available on AO3 under the same name. Unlike this edition, the one on there allows voting for the next part of the story (like the original blog). Check it out.
No one reviewed last chapter, so no one gets any appreciation.
Name Guide
Emil Denson- Iceland
Mathias Denson- Denmark
Helena Karpusi- Ancient Greece
Thank you for taking the time to read this!
