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Chapter 14: Home Again
When they got to the house Craig pulled his coat off and hung it in its place. He turned and looked at Bobby who was removing his own coat. "Can I go up to my room?" He asked quietly.
Bobby looked at him for a long moment. "You're supposed to be with one of us at all times, remember?" He asked. "Besides, it's time for lunch. We're gonna have turkey sandwiches, don't that sound good, more fucking turkey?" He spoke sarcastically as he hung his own coat up, but he smiled, and he sounded cheerful.
Craig swallowed hard. "I'm kind of tired; can't I just go to my room? I promise I won't come out of my room until you come and get me." He tried to reason. He just needed some time to be alone. He needed to think, and get the day's memories out of his head and onto paper. He needed to get it out of his head so it wouldn't be spinning around in there confusing him.
Bobby shook his head. "No. You stay down here with us. You can help make the sandwiches." He glanced over at Angel and Jack who were walking through the door, and then he looked back at Craig. "After we eat, we need to talk."
Craig felt his body tremble from the inside. "Why?" He asked. "What about?"
"Because you need to tell us about what happened," Bobby spoke calmly. "You beat the shit out of me, and got rid of that rage, but you can't tell me you don't still feel a lot of bad stuff inside."
Craig turned away from Bobby and leaned on the banister of the stairway. Bad stuff, yeah, that was one way of describing it.
"Don't put your back to me. It's not gonna be easy, but kid that's what big brothers are for. You can tell us anything, and I'll tell you right now, it's not gonna make us love you any less." Bobby walked up to him and turned him to face him. "Come on, let's get washed up and get some food. You need to eat; you need to keep up a routine for meals." He rested his hands on the boy's shoulders and started to move him towards the kitchen.
Craig pulled away from Bobby. "I don't want to eat, and I don't want to talk about it." He was surprised at how steady his voice came out, and loud. He'd never had the nerve to tell Bobby 'no' before. He wasn't even sure where it came from. "I want to go to my room." He looked up at his oldest brother, the man that was now his guardian. He hadn't meant for it to come out sounding so angry and loud.
Bobby's expression went blank. "Listen, Craig, I love you, but if you talk to me like that again I'll slap the shit out of you."
Craig studied Bobby's face for a moment, not sure if he wanted to risk the threat. He leaned back against the banister again. "I just want to go to my room."
"I don't care what the fuck you want. You ain't going upstairs to sit alone in your fuckin' bedroom and brood about your fucking life. You're going to sit your ass down, eat something and then we are gonna talk. Just like I said we were gonna do." Bobby snatched Craig's arm up with a hard grip and gave his quick jerk towards the kitchen. "Move it."
"Ouch," Craig hadn't expected the painful grip to his arm.
Bobby walked him into the kitchen and let go of him in front of the sink. "Wash your hands." He walked over to the refrigerator and opened the door.
Craig turned on the water and started washing his hands slowly. Angel and Jack joined them in the kitchen.
As Craig finished washing his hands Angel handed him a towel before putting his own hands under the water and grabbing for the soap. "Get out the plates and the bread." He told him quietly.
Craig dried his hands and put the towel on the counter next to the sink. He walked to the cupboard and got out the plates. He walked them over to the kitchen table at the same moment Bobby walked over and set the platter of turkey pieces down. Bobby looked down at him. Craig froze for a moment as Bobby stopped next to him and looked down at him.
"Bread," Bobby reminded him before walking over to the sink to join Jack and Angel in washing his hands.
Craig walked to the other cupboard and got out the bread. He dropped the loaf on the table as his brothers finished drying their hands one at a time, each moving to gather different items and add them to the table. Bobby went back to the refrigerator and pulled out lettuce, sliced tomato and mayonnaise. Angel pulled out glasses and filled each with milk, while Jack got out a knife, sat down at the table and started building sandwiches.
Jack looked up at Craig. "I'll get the turkey on the bread, you start smearing mayo all over it." He smiled.
Craig opened the mayonnaise jar and picked up the knife. He was surprised to see his hand shaking as he started his assigned task. He didn't understand why it seemed so different being with his brothers now that he was in the house with them. He wasn't afraid of them, he was afraid of the talk Bobby wanted to have. He wasn't sure what to expect. He had truly thought Bobby would let him go to his room. Bobby had said the night before that he had to be with at least one of his brothers at all times, but he'd thought that would change now that they knew his secret. They hadn't been mad at him; in fact, they had helped him feel better. He didn't understand why it seemed to change as soon as they walked into the house. He knew it wasn't actually them either, it was him. As much as he wanted them to help, he still needed to deal with things in his own way. He needed his time alone. He hadn't expected Bobby to grab his arm like that either. He would have gone to the kitchen, though he'd been arguing about it, he wouldn't have pushed it any further.
Jack looked up at him. "Hey," He spoke quietly. "He's just worried about you." He glanced over at Bobby, who looked their way.
Craig looked up at Jack. He nodded his head just enough that Jack could see he heard him. He smeared the mayonnaise over the turkey as Jack had instructed.
Jack continued to load the turkey with lettuce and tomato while Bobby and Angel carried the glasses of milk to the dining room table. They each came back and took a plate with a sandwich as they were completed.
Craig and Jack took their own sandwiches and walked into the dining room. Angel and Bobby were both sitting at the table, but neither had started eating. Bobby stood and pulled Craig's chair out for him as if he were afraid the boy would try to sit in the wrong seat.
Craig sat down and put his plate on the table in one motion. The four of them ate in silence. Craig could feel Bobby watching him, though he didn't look up to see his stare. He took several bites of his sandwich, but it was a challenge to get it down. Each bite was a challenge.
Bobby had half of his sandwich eaten in the time Craig had managed to swallow three small bites. Angel was inhaling his lunch and Jack was close behind Angel. Craig stared at his sandwich, wishing he could get out of eating it. Bobby set his sandwich down on his plate, but didn't say anything. Craig could feel Bobby's stare burning into him. He took another small bite of his sandwich and chewed slowly, letting his sandwich rest on his own plate.
"If you aren't done with that sandwich within the next five minutes I'm going to feed it to you." Bobby spoke with no warning.
Angel looked at Craig, then at Bobby. "Man, why don't you lighten up on him a little?" He spoke calmly. "He's eating."
"He ate his breakfast faster than this." Bobby leaned forward, resting his arms on the table. "Craig, you look at me." His voice was unreadable.
Craig looked up at Bobby. "You ain't gonna get out of talking to us by dragging out this meal. You are going to eat the sandwich, then we are gonna go into the living room and you are gonna talk to us. Now if you need help eating that sandwich, I'll sit you on my lap and help you. Do you want me to do that?" Bobby's voice was hauntingly calm and Craig knew he meant what he was saying.
Craig shook his head slowly.
"Good. Cause I really don't want to do that, but I will if I have to and you know that. You do know that, don't you?" Bobby still spoke with that calm voice.
Craig nodded his head.
"Now pick up your sandwich and eat it." Bobby didn't move back away from the table. He kept his stare on the boy, unblinking.
Craig picked up his sandwich and took another bite, forcing himself to take a larger bite than he really wanted to.
"You can chew it like a normal person." Bobby spoke when Craig started chewing slowly.
Craig chewed a little faster, and then swallowed.
"Another one," Bobby spoke as soon as that bite was down.
Craig took another bite, and started chewing. Bobby finally pulled back in his seat and continued eating his sandwich. "You keep it goin' in kid." He spoke over a mouthful of food as Craig swallowed anther bite.
With each bite Craig felt his throat tighten up just a little more. His brain was replaying the morning's events, and he was remembering how he'd seen each his brothers in such a different light in just the last couple of hours. He was trying to figure out why Bobby was suddenly being so hard on him and he didn't understand why he had to talk to them about the night of his mother's murder. He didn't want to talk about it. They knew what had happened. They had seen in with their own eyes when they watched the video. What else was there for him to tell them? He just wanted to go to his room and sketch. He wanted to be alone for a little while to sort out everything he was feeling. He could talk to them later, after he had it all figured out in his head.
As Craig pondered what was coming after the meal, he ate the whole sandwich, and was almost at a lost as to what to do when he didn't have the sandwich to occupy his hands. He sat back in his chair and let his hands rest in his lap. He looked at Bobby who still had a couple of bites left to his sandwich. His brother was still looking at him as he ate.
"That wasn't so hard, now was it sweetheart?" Bobby smiled as he chewed.
"Don't talk with your mouth full, that's disgusting." Jack stood and picked up his empty plate. He picked up Angel's plate since the man was chewing on the last of his sandwich as well. He reached over the table. "I'll take yours while I'm at it." He looked at Craig.
Craig handed Jack his plate.
Bobby drew in a deep breath. "Before we start our little talk do you need to take a piss?"He held the last remnants of his sandwich in his left hand and handed Jack his empty plate with his right.
Craig nodded his head. He did have to go, but it would also be another chance to delay the 'talk' Bobby had planned and maybe find a way to get out of it. He stood and Bobby rose as well, putting the last of his sandwich in his mouth. Craig started to walk through the living room, towards the foyer. His steps were quick, not wanting Bobby right on his ass. He half thought he might be able to duck into his room once they reached the top of the stairs, and lock Bobby out before he caught him. Bobby picked up his steps when he realized the boy was gaining some distance on him and snatched up his arm the same as he had earlier. "I don't know what you're thinking of doing, but it's not happening." He spoke in a normal voice and continued to pull the younger Mercer up the steps to the rest room. He let go of Craig once they were in the room, and he had shut the door.
Craig walked over to the toilet and started to undo his jeans. He stopped, frozen with his hands on the zipper. His brother was standing there watching him, and although it hadn't bothered him before, for some reason it bothered him now. His brother knew what Stanley had done to him. He knew what Craig would have let him do to him if it has continued and for some reason that made a difference at that moment.
Bobby sighed heavily. "I'll turn around." He spoke quietly and turned to face the door.
Craig pulled his jeans down just enough to do what he needed. He pulled them up quickly when he was done and flushed the toilet. He moved to the sink to wash his hands, as Bobby turned around to look at him. He glanced at Bobby but didn't try to say anything. He turned off the water and grabbed the towel. He looked at Bobby again, and thought that maybe he could retry reasoning his way out of Bobby's little 'talk'. But the memory of Bobby's grip on his arm after the first attempt made him question that approach. He swallowed hard and tried to decide which would be worse, Bobby being pissed off at him, or for his brothers to question him about that night in the store. At that moment having to re-live those moments again seemed a thousand times worse than anything Bobby could do to him. He felt exhausted, and confused, and he just wanted to be left alone for a little while so that he could deal with it his own way, no matter what Bobby might say. He swallowed back at the fear that was trying to stop him and drew in a deep breath. "Bobby, why can't…" He started to speak, but Bobby interrupted him.
Bobby shook his head and pulled the door opened. "Shut up Craig." He stood there as if waiting for the boy to walk over to him.
Craig didn't move. "But I…" He started again.
Again Bobby cut off his words. "Don't try to get out of this. It's not gonna be as bad as you think. You will sit down there and talk to us. You'll answer our questions and you will feel a hell of a lot better when it's over."
"No I won't!" Craig cried out, his voice came out angry. "You can't tell me how to feel, and you sure as hell can't make me talk about something I don't want to talk about!" He realized he yelled the last part of his statement.
Bobby's eyes narrowed down on him, and suddenly the boy thought that maybe this wasn't such a good idea. "I just want to go to my room Bobby. Why is that so bad?" He asked the question with a bit of a weaker voice. "I'm tired."
Bobby stared at him without saying a word, pulling in deep breaths, and letting them out slowly, blowing through is mouth. He looked like he was concentrating very hard on something.
Bobby's silence made Craig go on, "You get all pissed off at me if I don't sleep as much as you think I should, but when I tell you I'm tired and want to lie down you still get pissed off at me." He drew in a shaky breath. "I don't have to talk about it right now. I want to forget about it for a while." He was waiting for a reaction from Bobby, but the man still stood there, giving him that stare. "I can talk later, why can't I go to my room?" He repeated the question, his voice loud again.
Bobby was moving towards him instantly, grabbing his left arm and pulling up his sleeve, "Because I'm not giving you a chance to do this again." He spoke loud as he exposed the bandage he'd so carefully applied in the middle of the night. "Because I'm not gonna give you a chance to bottle all of that shit up again and keep having nightmares and not eat. That's why. You think you know what's best for yourself? Hell, you let that shit eat you up inside for almost a full fucking week and we could have helped. Ma would have made you talk, and she would have done all she could to make sure you felt safe. I'm gonna make sure you feel safe, if I have to force it on you, then fine! You had your little tantrum. You beat the shit out of me, remember? Now you are going to show me some respect, and do this." He had his face down in Craig's, and he looked frustrated.
"But I can't." Craig kept his eyes fixed on Bobby's; wishing the man could see that what he was expecting was too hard for him. His voice quivered slightly.
Bobby nodded his head. "Yes you can. You are far more capable than you give yourself credit for."
Craig was taken at a loss for words. He swallowed hard. He had never had to talk about the bad things in his life before; he'd always used his sketch pad. That was how he had always relayed details about what he'd seen and what had been done to him. That's what he needed to do now. He needed to get it on paper where it couldn't hurt him.
Bobby pulled Craig's shirt sleeve back down and took hold of his arm. "Let's go." He pulled him out of the rest room and down the stairs. When they got to the bottom of the steps the front door opened and Jack walked in wearing his coat, his cigarettes in his hand. He stuffed the cigarettes into his coat before pulling it off. Angel was in the living room with the remote control in his hand, flipping through television stations.
Craig wondered if the day could get any worse.