A/N
Most dialogue in this one is in italics to represent sign language. Hope you enjoy!
—
March 2002
Ran'l had returned home from the war for the final time that morning. Sally and the children had been overjoyed when he walked through the door almost two weeks earlier than he was supposed to, Tolbert jumping into his arms. He'd hugged each of his children tightly and had kissed his wife (which earned several humorous reactions from their children), and he met his newest son.
He was a small baby at five months old and had been born completely deaf. The last time Sally had communicated with him overseas, she had told him that the doctor had said that Bud wouldn't ever be able to hear. And while it broke his heart that his youngest son wouldn't get to experience the joy of hearing certain things, Ran'l was glad he was alive.
He had been the one to name him, and he'd laughed so hard he cried when he learned that Randolph McCoy, Junior was born on the same day he was — October thirtieth. It had overjoyed him that he shared a birthday with one of his children, even if he was thirty-nine years older than Bud was.
He cradled the babe in his arms for a majority of the day, changing him when he needed to be changed, feeding him, just holding him close and staring down at yet another perfect little human. And while this one was going to throw the McCoy family on a ride they'd never been on due to his inability to hear, Ran'l didn't mind that at all. He'd fallen in love with him the second he laid eyes on him.
Sally had known that Ran'l would react that way; he had reacted the same way when he met Pharmer. Now, however, it was different. Sally could practically see the bond between the two; one that was instant and likely wouldn't go away. Or at the very least, Sally hoped it wouldn't. Ran'l needed one of his sons to practically glue himself to his side, to look up to him and admire him.
It wasn't that Ran'l was egotistical or selfish; he only wanted one of his sons to be close to him, to be his mini-me, for lack of a better term.
And Sally had no doubt that that role was going to go to Bud. Sure, Jim and Tolbert loved doing things with their father, but they were starting to get to the point that they would say no if he asked them to go do something with him. They wouldn't for a while now that he was home again, but once they'd adjusted to having him there with them, they'd start to decline his offers to take them places.
So when Ran'l woke up to his youngest son wailing in the middle of the night, he didn't complain. He just got up and shuffled to the crib, lifting him out of it before shuffling to the changing table. He changed him and pulled the onesie off of him, grumbling while he stumbled around in the dark to find where Sally stored the boy's clothes.
He found them in the bottom drawer of their dresser. He found what looked to be a light-blue onesie with a dinosaur on the front, and figured that it really didn't matter so long as the boy was clothed. So he made his way back to the table, carefully pulling the onesie over Bud's head and pulling his arms through the sleeves. He snapped it and lifted the boy, a soft smile spreading across his lips while he looked down at him.
"Ran'l?" Sally murmured groggily, pushing herself to a sitting position. "Wha're ya doin'?"
"He needed changed," Ran'l informed her softly. "I'm tryin' t' get him back t' sleep."
"Oh... want me t'?"
"Nah. You rest, Sally. Lord knows ya ain't had much of it the last five months."
Sally shot him a look.
"Oh, go back t' sleep. Ain't like I was sleepin' well anyways."
"A'ight. I thank ya, honey," Sally gave him a smile before laying down again. "I love you, Randall."
"I love you too, Sally."
—
November 2003
Ran'l looked down at his son, who was tugging on his pant leg. He sighed and picked the boy up, setting him on his lap before focusing on the papers in front of him again.
"Hey, Poppy," Tolbert greeted as he walked through the kitchen door, which led to the back of the McCoy property.
"Hey, Tol," Ran'l looked up at him. "How was yer day?"
"A'ight, I reckon. Same as always. Hey, Buddy," Tolbert ruffled the little boy's hair, earning a scowl and a grunt. "He in a mood?"
"He's pretty grumpy t'day," Ran'l chuckled. "Wouldn't you be if ya didn't know what was bein' said 'round ya?"
"True, but he's two, Poppy. I doubt he'd really understand what we talk 'bout anyways," Tolbert countered.
"That's not the point."
"Sure it is. So... he learnin' it?" Tolbert grabbed a bag of chips and sat down.
"Sorta," Ran'l nodded ever so slightly. "He's two, so it's hard t' keep him still."
Tolbert smirked in amusement. He'd tried to tell them that teaching Bud sign language when he was two was a bad idea, but they were so desperate to figure out what the boy wanted every time he cried or grunted to get their attention that they decided to try it.
They weren't really sure if Bud had actually learned anything yet, but they were working on it.
Bud rugged on Ran'l's shirt. Ran'l looked down at him, the boy gently tapping his lips. Ran'l recognized it as sign language and huffed a breath of relief.
"C'mon. We'll find ya somethin' t' eat, baby."
—
Bud had moved into Tolbert's room. He never slept in his bed, though. It was always Tolbert's. Tolbert didn't necessarily understand why, but he figured the least he could do was let the boy sleep with him. He would grow out of it eventually.
He didn't mind Bud sleeping beside him. While Bud couldn't say a word or even hear a single word Tolbert said, Tolbert still enjoyed the boy's company. He and Bud were close; the McCoy children had the habit of picking an older sibling to attach themselves to, and from the looks of it, Bud had picked Tolbert.
Tolbert didn't mind that at all. He loved having his baby brother around. Bud was his favorite brother and he wouldn't care to admit it.
So when Bud climbed up on Tolbert's bed, Tolbert only moved the covers so he could get under them. Tolbert wrapped an arm around him after he laid down, the little boy putting his head on his chest. He combed his fingers through Bud's unruly honey-brown locks of hair, the little boy humming and scooting closer to him.
Bud loved Tolbert. Tolbert hadn't cared that Bud started sleeping with him. He'd encouraged it, really, and Bud had never understood why. He didn't know his name, didn't know anyone's name yet, really, but he knew he would eventually. He was learning his own way of communication, had managed to tell his father what he wanted, and he hoped he caught on to the rest of it quickly.
—
Tolbert woke up to find Bud gone. He panicked and threw the covers off of him, scrambling to get up. He ran out of his room and grabbed hold of the banister, his hip barely missing it as he turned to go down the stairs.
He went to Ran'l and Sally's room, pushing the door open and finding his parents sleeping with a small child laying on Ran'l's chest. Tolbert heaved a sigh of relief. His head fell against the doorway with a soft thud, closing his eyes and breathing heavily.
"Tol? Whatcha doin'?" Ran'l asked groggily.
"He dis'peared on me. Scared me outta my wits," Tolbert responded with a breathless chuckle. "Right near had a heart attack, Poppy."
Ran'l chuckled.
"I'm goin' back t' bed. Night, Poppy."
"Night, Tolbert."
—
May 2006
Tolbert laid on the couch, a thick, fluffy blanket thrown over him. His mind was hazy and he was feverish, so he knew why Sally had forced him to stay home. She didn't want other kids catching whatever it was he had.
When Bud tottered into the room, his eyes landed on his brother immediately. He went over to him and gently poked his cheek, as Tolbert was lying on the far side of the couch and didn't see him come in. He blinked and focused on Bud.
"Hi, Tolbert."
Tolbert gave a small smile, moving his hands so Bud could see them.
"Hi there. Didn't Mama tell you to stay away?"
"No."
Tolbert huffed in amusement. He knew nothing could keep Bud away once he set his mind to it; he had his ways of sneaking around without being noticed. His downfall was the fact that he would make noise without realizing it. A grunt when he was trying to move something out of his way, something clanging or banging against the wall, a noise in the back of his throat when he succeeded at getting something open, and on occasion, humming.
Tolbert didn't know why he hummed, but he did, and he found it adorable despite the boy usually getting into something he wasn't supposed to. But at nearly five years old, he was getting better when it came to listening.
"Tolbert, baby, have you seen—" Sally cut herself off when she saw him standing in front of Tolbert. "—never mind."
"Mama wants you."
Bud's head whipped toward the doorway. He beamed at Sally and signed a greeting. She reciprocated and walked over to him, lifting him up and placing him on her hip.
"Reckon I shoulda told him t' stay 'way," she remarked as she headed for the door. "I'll send yer Poppy in later t' check on ya, baby."
"Mkay, Mama. Love you."
"Love you too."
—
Tolbert wasn't any better the next day. He'd opted to stay in his room, buried under four blankets. He hadn't moved other than the times he got up to run to the bathroom, but all he ever did once he was there was dry heave.
Ran'l had a day off, and he was taking care of him. He'd moved into Tolbert's room, sitting on the edge of the bed and pulling his fingers through Tolbert's mass of sweaty ginger curls. Tolbert hummed, his eyes fluttering closed.
He gagged. He groaned and shifted slightly. Tolbert clamped a hand over his mouth, his brows pinching together as bile rose in his throat. He swallowed thickly, taking a shaky breath.
"Y' a'ight, Tol?"
"Mhm."
"Sure? I'll go get somethin' if ya need t' throw up, darlin'. I don't care to."
"No, 'm okay," he forced the words out.
"You wanna go t' the doctor? Ya don't look s' good, son," Ran'l murmured.
"No. I'm a'ight, Poppy."
Ran'l sighed, continuing to pull his fingers through his son's hair. Tolbert hummed and opened his eyes again, looking up at Ran'l. Ran'l gazed down at him, his blue eyes scanning his son's face.
Tolbert's face was flushed. His skin was clammy, beads of sweat rolling down his pale face. His complexion matched a ghost's and he looked absolutely miserable.
They both looked toward the door when it opened. Bud slipped in, tears rolling down the little boy's face as he padded over to his father and his brother.
Ran'l was confused. He'd never seen his son look so upset. They'd put him in preschool and they were hoping it would work for him; they'd been told that they would be able to communicate with him, so Ran'l and Sally had allowed him to go to public school.
He ran straight for Ran'l, letting his father pick him up and set him on his lap. He shoved his face in Ran'l's chest, sobs passing through the boy's lips.
Sally came in the room behind him, sighing heavily. She looked at Ran'l and shook her head ever so slightly.
"We're not sendin' him back, Ran'l. I will not have him mocked for the way he has t' communicate," she stated firmly.
Ran'l sighed, cradling his youngest son against him with one arm while the other still played with Tolbert's hair.
"It's not like they've helped him any, Ran'l. They don't understand what he's sayin' to 'em. It was a teacher, Ran'l, not one of the kids. But the kids did it after she did."
"A'ight, we won't send him back," Ran'l decided. "We're just gonna have t' figure out how t' teach him what he needs t' know."
"We will. He learned sign language, didn't he? Our boy is smart. He can do anythin' he puts his mind to."
—
December 2007
Ran'l looked up when the office door slowly opened, finding his six-year-old son as he stepped inside. He closed the door and made his way to Ran'l, who had looked down at the papers on his desk again. He wasn't sure what his son was up to, and he wasn't going to stop his plan.
Bud pattered over to him, smacking his lips. Ran'l wasn't sure why he was doing that, but he didn't mind it. It was adorable. He kept smacking his lips together, pausing for a few seconds to lick them before starting to do it again.
Curious, Ran'l looked down at him, finding that the boy had plopped down on the floor and was messing with the bottom drawer. He breathed a laugh and shook his head, grabbing a notepad and a pen before nudging him gently. Bud looked up at him, seeing the notepad and the pen in his father's outstretched hand, and took it from him.
"Thank you."
Ran'l nodded slightly, smiling at him. Bud bit down on his bottom lip, taking hold of the pen and starting to draw. Ran'l went back to work, grabbing another pen and scrawling his signature on the bottom line of the paper in front of him.
He heard Bud make a noise. The boy was always making noise without realizing it, and it made Ran'l wonder if he would have been talkative if had he been able to hear and learned to talk. He reached down and ruffled Bud's hair, the boy looking up at him with a pout.
Bud stood up, pen and paper in hand, and gently tugged on the sleeve of Ran'l's flannel. Ran'l set him on his lap, letting the boy set the pad of paper down. He turned toward Ran'l and kissed his cheek, just as Ran'l always did to him, and happily went back to drawing. Ran'l moved his head a little and pressed a kiss to his son's temple.
Bud didn't acknowledge the man who entered the office. He looked at Bud, then to Ran'l, then to Bud again.
"Afternoon, Mr. Miller," Ran'l forced a smile.
"Afternoon. I came in t' place an order, Mr. McCoy. Should a child hear such business?" Mr. Miller sneered.
"Well, if he could hear, my answer would be yes," Ran'l drawled.
"Oh! I wasn't aware you had a child with a disability," the man remarked as he sat down.
That was when Bud noticed him. He looked up at him, then to his father before going back to what he was doing.
"Well, we think of it more as a quirk. It's jus' somethin' that makes him a little diff'rent than ev'ryone else," Ran'l shrugged lightly, brushing his son's hair out of his eyes. "Anyways, how can I help ya?"
—
When Ran'l and Bud went inside that evening, the first thing Ran'l did was change into an old t-shirt and a pair of sweatpants. After that, he went to the kitchen and grabbed a bottle of Sprite, and was less than shocked when Bud followed him back to his room.
He set the Sprite on the nightstand before picking Bud up and gently tossing him onto the bed, the boy smiling with his eyes shining brightly. He jerked and curled up when Ran'l started to tickle him, smacking at his father's hands while he tried to get away. Ran'l giggled and bent down, blowing a raspberry on his cheek. Bud scrunched his nose and huffed.
Ran'l got in bed, propping himself up against the headboard. And once his son was on his lap with one leg on either side of Ran'l, he covered them up, reaching and grabbing the remote before turning on the TV.
Bud placed his head on Ran'l's chest. He poked Ran'l, who brought his free hand up and started to massage his scalp. Bud hummed and sighed in contentment. He liked it when Ran'l messed with his hair; he liked it when Tolbert did it, too. Tolbert did it just like Ran'l did.
Ran'l glanced to his left, setting the remote on the nightstand before wrapping his left arm around Bud. He focused his attention on the movie that played, wishing that his son was able to hear. Bud couldn't watch movies and understand what was going on without subtitles and he hated that.
His son was intelligent; he had already learned to write, but the reading was taking a little longer because they didn't really know how to go about it. They weren't sure how they could possibly teach a child to read when he couldn't hear a word they said. It was a work in progress, though, and he was doing quite well with it, despite his parents being uncertain about the whole thing.
Ran'l hated that his son would never be able to hear. He hated that the boy had a good voice that he couldn't use because he couldn't hear. The most Bud ever did was grunt, hum, groan, make a noise in the back of his throat, and when he was sick, he'd moan miserably. But he wasn't even aware that he was doing it.
But they would make the best of it. Bud was happy and that was all that mattered.
—
Sally yawned as she entered her bedroom. Her eyes landed on her husband and her son, both of whom were sleeping soundly. Ran'l had one hand placed on Bud's back, the other lying by his side. His head was turned to the side, and Bud had his face pressed against Ran'l's chest, his lips slightly parted.
They both snored softly, Ran'l shifting slightly in his sleep.
Sally giggled quietly, carefully closing the door behind her before she shuffled to the other side of the bed and climbed onto it. She gently shook Ran'l's shoulder.
"Mm... wha'?" he mumbled groggily, blinking a few times to clear his hazy vision.
"Why don't ya lay down? Yer gonna kill yer neck if ya don't," Sally told him, struggling to hide her amusement.
"Mm... Hold him a minute."
Ran'l passed the sleeping boy to Sally, which made him wake, but he didn't care. Ran'l laid down and turned onto his side, letting Bud curl up against him. Bud was asleep again in less than five seconds.
Sally breathed a laugh and laid down, turning to face her husband and son.
"So, you gonna keep stealin' him from Tolbert?" Sally asked, her voice holding a teasing tone to it.
"I ain't stealin' him," Ran'l rolled his eyes. "He's my son. An' I ain't gonna tell him no if he wants t' come in here."
"I know," Sally smiled softly. "You love him too much. Ya spoil him, Randolph McCoy."
"I don't spoil him," Ran'l laughed.
"Yes, ya do. You know ya do."
"I spoil all of 'em, Sally."
"I know. Believe me, I know when ya let 'em sneak somethin' sweet. It makes them hyper."
"They're kids," Ran'l shrugged lightly. "Let 'em have fun while they can. They'll have t' deal with the real world soon 'nough. Reckon I can hope Bud won't have t' deal with it, but I know he will. He does every time he goes somewhere. He don't see it, but I do, an' I never draw 'tention to it 'cause I know it'd hurt him that people mock him."
"When he was in public school, it wasn't that they mocked him. That wasn't what made him cry. It was the fact that she was mad at him, and the other kids were all pointing and laughin' at him. She was down in his face, screamin' that he was fakin' it an' he'd better stop if he knew what was good for 'im. I happened t' walk in on it and took him right outta there. People don't seem t' understand how hard it is for him. He won't ever get t' do things like other people."
"That's why he's got us. We're the ones that takes care of him n protects him the best we can. That's our job."
"He's happy. He always is when he's with you or Tolbert."
"He's happy 'round ev'ryone else too. He loves bein' 'round you n Rose n Alifair. He's always wrestlin' with Cal n Pharmer. 'S funny t' watch 'em when they lose."
"You're supposed t' stop them when they fight," Sally tried to suppress a laugh.
"They're siblings, they're gonna fight. The girls did it all the time. So did Jim n Tolbert. Let 'em have fun. They don't hit each other hard 'nough for it t' hurt."
Sally groaned exasperatedly. Her husband laughed, leaning forward and pecking her lips.
"Git some sleep, Sally. I love you."
"Yer lucky I love you, Ran'l."
—
June 2009
Bud curled up against Tolbert's side, his older brother keeping one arm wrapped around him tightly. Tolbert played with Bud's curly hair, Bud's left arm laying on Tolbert's torso.
Tolbert tapped his nose, making him blink and move his head back a little. He craned his neck to look up at him, huffing. Tolbert laughed and did it again. Bud smacked at his hand, much to his older brother's amusement, and nuzzled against Tolbert's chest.
Ran'l came into the room, dressed in a red t-shirt, a pair of dark jeans, and his sneakers.
"C'mon, Tolbert, up ya get."
"What for?" Tolbert looked at him strangely. He knew he didn't have to work.
"We're goin' fishin'. Bud's goin' too. Jus' the three of us."
"A'ight," Tolbert shrugged, getting up. "Give me a minute to change. Y' care t' take Bud n change him? He's still in his pajamas."
"Yeah. Find him somethin'."
Ran'l sat down in front of Bud, the boy gazing at him curiously.
"We're going fishing. You're coming too."
Bud smiled. He liked going fishing.
Ran'l caught the shirt and shorts that Tolbert threw at him, and he nearly got hit in the head with one of the shoes that were thrown carelessly over Tolbert's shoulder.
"You hit me with a shoe an' I'll be sure t' drown you in the lake."
"Sorry, Poppy."
Tolbert knew Ran'l didn't mean it. His father always made threats but he never went through with them. Well... he didn't unless it was something to do with their behavior or their grades.
Ran'l gathered the clothes and stood up, jerking his head toward the door in a motion to follow him. Bud slid off the bed and followed his father down the hall to their room. He and Sally had moved upstairs after Jim moved out, giving Alifair and Roseanna the room downstairs. Trinnie and Addie shared the room across the hall from Ran'l and Sally, and Calvin and Pharmer shared the one across from Tolbert and Bud.
Bud pattered into the room, smacking his lips again. Ran'l had learned that Bud found it funny when someone did it while looking at him and that he'd keep doing it as long as he could. So when Ran'l did it, he made sure to pull funny faces to make him laugh. Well... he didn't laugh — he smiled. And at a certain point, he couldn't smack his lips together due to smiling so widely.
Ran'l tapped his shoulder and bent down on one knee, setting the clothes down beside him. Bud turned around to face him, still smacking his lips while Ran'l unbuttoned his shirt. After sliding it off of the boy's shoulders, Ran'l stood up.
"Get dressed."
Bud nodded and did as he was told. Ran'l moved and grabbed a duffel bag, knowing he'd have to take a spare change of clothes for Bud and a couple of blankets for him to sit on since he didn't like sitting on the hot metal benches. Ran'l never blamed him for that. He usually opted to sit on the ground as well.
He felt Bud tugging on the hem of his shirt, and turned around, finding him with his bottom lip stuck out in a pout. He realized then that Tolbert had given him the shorts that had to be buttoned, and he knew that Bud couldn't button it on his own. He tried but his fingers would slip and he couldn't. Ran'l buttoned the shorts and sighed as he looked at his son's terrible case of bed head.
He grabbed the comb off the dresser and bent down, combing the boy's hair, much to his chagrin. Bud grunted and tried to move away from him, but to no avail. Once his hair was combed, Ran'l leaned forward and blew a raspberry on his cheek. Bud ducked his head, a smile on his face.
Ran'l kissed his cheek. It was how they told him that they loved him without signing it. Bud reciprocated the gesture and grinned at his father.
"I love you, Poppy."
"I love you too, Buddy."
—
The sun felt nice against Bud's skin. He was sprawled out on the blanket his father had spread out for him, his arms thrown over his head with his eyes closed, basking in the warmth the sun provided.
Tolbert nudged Ran'l, muttering, "Ya might wanna get the sunscreen. Bud's layin' in the sun n it don't look like he's gonna move anytime soon."
Ran'l looked over at him and laughed, grabbing the bottle of sunscreen out of the bag (he brought it for the boys — they both burned terribly if they didn't use it) and headed over to him. He sighed and sat down beside him, poking his side.
Bud turned his head and opened his eyes.
"Stand up a minute."
Bud huffed and did as he was told. Ran'l applied the sunscreen on the boy's arms and legs, letting him sit down before putting it on his face and neck. He combed Bud's hair back with his fingers, moving his bangs out of his eyes. His hazel eyes shine brightly and he blinked a few times, scrunching his nose when Ran'l tapped it.
He got up and went back to his spot beside Tolbert, tossing him the bottle.
"Ya best put it on. I don't want you moanin' an' groanin' 'cause ya get sunburnt," Ran'l told him. Tolbert shot him an unamused look.
"I don't moan n groan."
"Whatever ya say."
—
November 2009
"Hello?"
"P-Poppy," Tolbert sobbed into the phone, wiping at his eyes.
"What's wrong, Tolbert?" Ran'l's voice took on a concerned tone, making his son cry harder. "Tolbert? Son, ya gotta talk t' me."
"I need — I need t' talk t' you. Y' busy?" Tolbert stuttered.
"No, I ain't busy. You comin' here or do I need t' come t' you?"
"I'll come t' you, Poppy. I'll — I'll be there in a few minutes."
"A'ight, son. Do me a favor n breathe."
"Mkay. Love ya."
"Love ya too."
Ran'l sighed as he hung up. He didn't know what was wrong with his second-eldest son, but he figured he would find out as soon as he got there.
—
Tolbert made his way to the house after asking his brothers where their father was. Apparently, Bud was sick and Ran'l was taking care of him while Sally took Alifair and Roseanna to an eye doctor appointment.
Tolbert took the stairs two at a time, his hand grabbing the banister as he swung to turn to the right once he'd reached the top. He went into the bedroom, finding Ran'l sitting on the edge of the bed, pulling his fingers through the little boy's hair.
"Poppy..."
Ran'l's eyes flicked over to him and he nodded before telling Bud he'd be right back. Tolbert followed his father down the hall to his room, his heart thundering against his chest. He wanted help with it, but he didn't necessarily want to tell his father that there was something wrong with his head either.
"What's the matter?" Ran'l asked softly, his blue eyes gazing at Tolbert.
Tolbert reached in his coat pocket, pulling out the bottle he'd just picked up from the pharmacy. He handed it to Ran'l, his breath catching in his throat while he tried to force back his tears.
"Lithium?" Ran'l's brows knitted together. "What're they givin' ya that for?"
"Bipolar depression," he answered so quietly, Ran'l barely heard him. Tolbert lifted his gaze and Ran'l could see the heart-broken expression in his eyes. "I got somethin' wrong wit' my head, Poppy."
Ran'l sighed and pulled his son into a tight embrace.
"You do not have somethin' wrong with yer head," Ran'l stated, rubbing his back. "I'll help ya, a'ight? I'll even keep it b'tween you n me if ya want me to, Tol. I won't say nothin' ya don't want me to."
Tolbert's chest collapsed with a broken sob, him clinging tightly to his father. Ran'l held him and shushed him, trying to calm him down.
"I don't — I don't want it, Poppy," he muffled into Ran'l's shoulder.
"I know, darlin'. No one ever wants it," Ran'l murmured.
"It ain't right, Poppy! I — I got somethin' wrong with m' head."
"No, ya don't. Ya don't have anythin' wrong with yer head, Tolbert."
"Yes, I do," Tolbert argued weakly.
"Ya don't, son. Matter o' fact, yer perfect. Yer perfect jus' the way ya are, Tolbert. I don't care if ya got bipolar depression or not. You are perfect."
Tolbert began to argue that he was far from perfect, but he and his father were interrupted by Pharmer.
"Jim sent me up t' tell ya there's somebody who wants t' see ya, Poppy. Says it's a Mr. Miller," Pharmer informed him, the nine-year-old innocently allowing his eyes to flit between Tolbert and his father. "Why's ya cryin', Tol?"
"Don't worry 'bout it, honey," Tolbert sniffled, wiping his nose with his sleeve. "I'm fine."
"Do me a favor n take care of Bud for a few minutes," Ran'l mumbled, shoving the bottle back in Tolbert's hand.
"Okay, Poppy. What's wrong with him?"
"Ah, just a stomach bug. He'll be fine in a day or two."
"'E's real hateful, though," Pharmer piped up.
"Wouldn't you be if ya couldn't tell people what ya wanted while yer sick?" Tolbert quirked a brow.
"Reckon so," Pharmer shrugged.
"You best go back outside. We don't need you gettin' sick too." Tolbert gently hit the back of his head while he walked past him.
"Mkay, Tol."
Tolbert went into Bud's room, closing the door behind him. He walked over to the bed, taking off his shoes and coat before climbing on it.
"Hey, baby."
Bud smiled lazily and moved his hands to where Tolbert could see them.
"Hey, Tolbert."
Tolbert put the back of his hand against Bud's forehead, humming in displeasure. Bud blinked owlishly at him, scooting closer and burying his face in the crook of Tolbert's neck. Tolbert wrapped his arms around him, bringing one hand up and massaging the back of Bud's head. He sighed in contentment, nuzzling against Tolbert's neck.
Bud shifted a little, pulling his head back. Tolbert kept his gaze on him, watching the boy gently tap his cheek. Tolbert's brows furrowed. Bud repeated the action and Tolbert caught on, bending down and pressing a lingering kiss to his cheek. Bud nuzzled against him again, laying his left hand on Tolbert's bicep.
Bud had been sick for about two days now, and he was so accustomed to being able to kiss everyone on the cheek when he wanted to that it was killing him. Ran'l and Sally had explained why he couldn't, and it made him feel a little better about it, but they still kissed him like nothing was wrong. So Bud took what he could get, and he didn't mind it as much as he thought he would.
Tolbert rubbed his back, the little boy humming and somehow managing to scoot closer to his older brother.
"You can't hear me, but I love you," Tolbert muttered, pressing a kiss to the top of Bud's head. "I love ya a whole lot, baby."
—
October 2014
On Bud's thirteenth birthday (and Ran'l's fifty-second birthday), Ran'l had planned to take his son out. Unfortunately, he'd been informed by Sally that Tolbert had already called to say that he'd be stealing him that evening, and that meant that Ran'l had to take him out that afternoon.
The problem with that? Bud was still in bed.
So Ran'l made his way to Bud's room, turning the light on before crossing the room, as he had his curtains drawn and there was no light streaming through the window.
On Bud's bed was a lump under a heap of blankets. It had been rather cold the night before and the furnace had been uncooperative with Ran'l, so he was going to have to fix that. Until he could, everyone was sleeping under a pile of blankets. He didn't think anyone could beat Bud when it came to the number of blankets, as the boy practically froze if he didn't have at least three on a night when the furnace worked, so he had quite a few piled on top of him.
Ran'l could see the way the lump rose and fell every few seconds, and he chuckled and shook his head. Ran'l was going to have to get the furnace fixed before Bud accidentally suffocated himself under his blankets.
He made his way over to him, bending down and gently shaking Bud's shoulder. Despite sleeping under a mountain of blankets, Bud still wore a tank top and a pair of shorts to sleep in. Ran'l didn't necessarily understand that logic, but he never questioned it.
Bud stirred and made a noise in the back of his throat, his eyes slowly fluttering open. He licked his lips and yawned, moving his arms and stretching them above his head. He rolled onto his side facing away from Ran'l, who quickly caught his shoulder. Bud rolled over again, his head turned toward his father.
"Hey, Buddy. Get up, we're going out."
Bud blinked a few times, his face pinched in a confused expression.
"Why?"
"It's your birthday," Ran'l reminded him. Realization dawned on his face. Bud shoved the mountain of blankets off of him and shivered as he got up, stumbling and latching onto his father's arms. He smiled sheepishly, his cheeks turning a vibrant pink as he released his grasp and shuffled to the dresser.
Ran'l left the room, knowing that the boy would come downstairs once he'd changed. He grabbed his keys, earning a look from Sally.
"What?"
"Nothin'. Don't spoil him, Ran'l."
"Sally, I ain't gonna spoil him," Ran'l rolled his eyes. "I'm jus' takin' him out, lettin' him do what he wants to. He don't get out much, Sally. I use every excuse I can t' get him out of the house."
"I know you do. He's started to notice what people do. He's figured out that they're mockin' him, Ran'l. That's why he don't wanna go nowhere anymore."
"I know," Ran'l spoke softly, leaning against the counter. "I can understand little kids. They don't know what sign language is or anythin' like that, but it really shocks me how many adults make fun of him n say he's fakin' it. I'm real glad he can't read lips. I doubt he'd leave the house at all if he could."
"Mm... I dunno. He's got you in his corner. That's all he needs t' be happy."
"He needs ev'ryone in this crazy fam'ly of ours. He wouldn't know what t' do without one of us."
"I know, Ran'l. He loves you n Tolbert the most, though. That boy lights up like a Christmas tree anytime he's near you or Tol," Sally pointed out. "He's in the doorway, by the way."
Ran'l turned toward him, smiling and bidding Sally goodbye as he walked over to him, throwing his arm around the boy's shoulders. Bud chewed on his lower lip while they walked to the truck, looking at his father once they'd gotten inside.
"Where are we going?"
"Anywhere you want."
Bud blinked, shocked by the response. He got to pick where they were going? That was new to him.
"Where do you want to go?"
Bud shrugged. He honestly had no idea. He'd lived in eastern Kentucky his entire life and it was like he'd never been there before. He couldn't think of anything.
"Southside Mall in South Williamson?" Ran'l suggested. "We can get ya some new clothes or whatever and then go eat. Or we can go to Pikeville. It's up to you."
Bud thought about it for a second. He hadn't been to South Williamson in a while... Maybe he had a better chance of not being mocked there.
"South Williamson."
Ran'l nodded and started the truck, backing out of the driveway and heading toward South Williamson.
—
Bud looked over at Ran'l, who watched the boy with idle curiosity as he looked through shirts. He'd decided to do what his father suggested, and so far, he hadn't found anything that he liked.
But Ran'l was fine with standing there, watching his son sort through the shirts in front of him. He was chewing on his lip again. Ran'l had noticed it was something he did often, and it usually meant he was either bored or stressed. He wasn't sure which one it was at the moment.
He looked over at his father, who raised an inquisitive brow at him.
"I can't find anything."
"Want to try a different store?"
Bud thought on it for a second.
"Sure."
Ran'l and Bud left the store they were in and wound up in a shoe store. Bud's sneakers were worn out and if he kept them much longer, the soles would be nonexistent. Ran'l threw his arm around his son's shoulders, the boy tucking himself against his father's side.
He didn't like going out in public. When he went out, he was always mocked for the way he had to communicate. It made him feel like he was stupid and he didn't like it. He didn't like the way his heart sunk every time someone pointed at him, he didn't like the sinking feeling in his stomach when he saw them laugh, and he didn't like the blow to his chest when they started to make gestures with their hands. They were never real gestures for sign language and Bud wanted to tell them so, but they wouldn't understand him.
He'd gone to South Williamson with the hope that it wouldn't happen there. He wasn't sure if it would, but he was hoping it wouldn't. It hadn't happened yet and Bud was still wary that someone might mock him.
It wasn't like he chose to be deaf; he didn't like not being able to hear.
Ran'l gently smacked his arm, pulling him out of his thoughts. Bud came up to his father's shoulder now, and he was quite proud of that. He'd grown quite a bit in the last year, and Ran'l knew it. Bud had gone from standing at his chest to his shoulder in a matter of weeks.
Bud shook his head to clear it of his thoughts, stuffing his hands in his pockets while he scanned the area for the sneakers he liked. He preferred Nikes or maybe Adidas or Sketchers if they happened to be a design he liked. Bud liked the black Nikes best.
He walked down an aisle, stopping when he found the Nikes he liked. Ran'l was right behind him, his eyes scanning the shelves. He never bought anything when he took Bud out, but he didn't mind admitting that he did browse while Bud tried to find what he was looking for. Bud wasn't small like he used to be, and he was adamant about doing it on his own.
Four out of the five McCoy boys ended up being Mama's boys. They were still mountain men, prided themselves as such, but they were as sweet as could be anytime they were around their mother. They did anything she asked them to, loved her and admired her, and one of the four was Sally's favorite.
The only exception was Bud. He was Poppy's boy. He clung to Ran'l's side and looked up to him, did anything and everything Ran'l wanted him to do. Wherever Ran'l went, Bud was usually right there with him. Anytime Ran'l pulled his fingers through Bud's hair, or rubbed his face or back, or even just scratched his scalp, Bud practically melted at the touch and became the little toddler he'd been a few years before. He'd curl up against Ran'l and end up drifting off to sleep, and he'd stay there until he woke, whether it be morning, afternoon, or evening.
Ran'l never minded it; he liked spending time with Bud. He grunted when the boy jabbed him in the ribs, looking over at him, seeing him smile innocently.
"What was that for?"
"What?"
Ran'l shot him an unamused look.
"I found them. You ready?"
"Yeah. Come on."
—
After stopping in a few more shops, Bud decided he wanted to go to KFC. There was one right down the road from the mall, and Ran'l didn't mind it. They hadn't been to KFC in a while, and if that was what Bud wanted, that was where they'd go.
Bud had managed to find a few shirts and two pairs of jeans in another store. Ran'l wasn't sure how to get it through the boy's head that he would buy him more than three shirts, two pairs of jeans, and a pair of shoes, but he never forced him to get more than what he gave him.
Pulling in the parking lot, Ran'l could see the light in his son's eyes. Thus far, not a single person had mocked him, and he was having a good day. Ran'l shut the engine off and sighed as he unbuckled his seatbelt, noticing Levicy Hatfield and Cotton Top, who was Ellison's son.
Ellison was really the only Hatfield Ran'l got along with. Anse wasn't too bad, but Ran'l preferred to hold a conversation with his younger brother. He and Ellison had met in Pikeville and West Virginia several times, always had a pleasant conversation, and it always ended up being about their children. Ellison would tell him how Cotton was, and Ran'l would tell him about Bud. They seemed to have that in common — their children were a little different, and they were often mocked for it when they went out in public.
Ran'l figured that either Anse and Levicy, had offered to take him out with them or that Ellison was with them.
He and Bud got out of the truck. He waved to Levicy, who returned the gesture with a small smile.
"Who's that?" Bud asked, curiosity shining in his hazel eyes.
"Levicy Hatfield. She lives in West Virginia."
Bud nodded as his father opened the door for him. Ran'l followed him inside, looking down at him before they stopped where Bud could see the menu. The boy hadn't had the slightest idea on what he wanted, and Ran'l had assured him that they could stand back so he could choose.
Ran'l's back was turned to the tables. Bud stood in front of him, signing quickly and excitedly. He thanked his father and told him that he was excited to spend the evening with Tolbert, but somehow managed to cut himself off mid-sentence, his face falling while he gazed over Ran'l's shoulder.
"What's wrong?"
"Nothing, Poppy."
Deciding to try to bring him out of the glum mood he'd fallen into, Ran'l reminded him that he still hadn't told him what he wanted. Bud nodded and focused on the menu that hung on the wall behind the cashiers.
"Randall? That you?" Ellison Hatfield's voice came from beside him.
"'Deed it is, Ellison. What're you doin' on this side of the river?"
"Deliverin' lumber n helpin' Levicy n Anse run errands. I thought you went t' Pikeville."
"Usually I do," Ran'l chuckled. "But my boy wanted t' go t' South Williamson, so..."
"That's Bud?" Ellison pointed at him. Ran'l laughed and nodded. "Well, I do 'pologize for my nephews a-mockin' him. Sometimes I wonder if them two got a brain in their heads."
Ran'l's gaze snapped to his son, who gently tugged on his sleeve. After telling his father what he wanted, he asked who he was talking to.
"Ellison Hatfield. Why didn't you tell me they mocked you?"
"I don't know."
"He says he's sorry they did. Ellison won't make fun of you."
Bud looked at the man. He was tall and pleasant looking. He had reddish-brown hair and a beard that matched, and his eyes gave off the impression that he was a friendly person. He had a ball cap placed on top of his head, his hands shoved in the pockets of his jeans. Much to Bud's surprise, he pulled out his hands.
"Hello. My name is Ellison. What's yours?"
Bud blinked in shock and looked at Ran'l, who patted the boy's shoulder before moving to order their food.
"Bud."
Ellison already knew that, but Bud didn't know that.
"It's nice to meet you."
"Nice to meet you, too."
Ellison smiled softly at the boy, catching sight his two nephews out of the corner of his eye and their shocked looks.
"I apologize for them. They can be idiots sometimes."
Bud smiled and laughed silently.
"It's okay. I'm used to it."
"But you shouldn't be, Bud. You can't help the way you are, and I think you're great."
"Thank you. You're really nice."
Ellison laughed a little, his eyes flicking up when he saw Cotton enter the restaurant again.
"Thank you."
"You know Poppy?"
"I do. Your father is a good man."
Bud nodded. He agreed with him on that. Ran'l was a great man that dealt with more than he let on. Bud knew it was hard for him to deal with his youngest son being deaf, but Ran'l never once complained, and he'd never been mean to him.
"How old are you, Bud?" Ellison asked, taking a guess by the boy's appearance.
"Thirteen. Just turned thirteen today."
"That right? Happy birthday."
"Thanks." Bud smiled sheepishly.
"You're welcome. And again, I'm sorry for them. I smacked them for you, though. It was nice meeting you."
"Nice meeting you."
Ellison walked off, rejoining his family. Randall returned then, handing his son a cup full of Pepsi. Bud sipped it and followed Ran'l to an empty table.
"I'll be right back, Buddy. Don't move."
Bud nodded to show he'd been paying attention and took another sip of his drink. He looked out the window, watching the cars go by. He set the cup down on the table, just gazing out the window while he waited for Ran'l to return.
Ran'l returned, setting the tray in his hands between them while he sat down. Ran'l sorted the food, giving Bud what he ordered. Bud smiled and nodded, thanking him silently.
"You wanna say grace?" Ran'l looked at him.
"I can't say it, Poppy."
"Alright, alright. I'll say it."
As it was custom in their family so Bud would know when his father had finished saying grace, Ran'l grasped one of Bud's hands. They both bowed their heads, Ran'l saying grace before giving his son's hand a gentle squeeze.
Bud's eyes flicked up and met Ran'l's.
"Happy birthday, Poppy."
"Thank you, Bud. I love you."
"I love you too."
—
Tolbert whistled as he entered his parents' home, setting out to find his baby brother. It was likely that he was downstairs, as he doubted Ran'l was actually going to let him go upstairs when Tolbert intended to kidnap him on his birthday, and was pleasantly surprised to find that he was right when he saw his father and his brother curled up on the couch watching a movie.
Tolbert cleared his throat, startling his father, which in turn startled Bud. Bud got up after kissing Ran'l's cheek and hurried over to Tolbert, grabbing the backpack that sat against the wall.
"Well, I see someone's excited," Tolbert remarked.
"He's been lookin' forward to it all day. Ya best get him outta here 'fore he hits ya," Ran'l laughed.
"A'ight. See ya, Poppy."
Tolbert followed Bud out of the house and to his red Chevy Colorado. Bud climbed in it, and Tolbert did as well, starting the engine after buckling his seatbelt.
He threw the gearshift in reverse, backing up enough that he could turn around, and then shifting it into drive. He pulled out and went to his house, Bud looking over at him, his eyes gleaming with excitement.
Tolbert parked the truck and turned it off, pulling the key out of the ignition before getting out. Bud was already ahead of him, and Tolbert wondered how the boy had possibly moved as fast as he did. He was halfway to the porch when Tolbert closed his door.
After joining him and unlocking the door, Bud entered the house. Tolbert was right behind him, closing and locking it.
"Go put your bag up."
Bud nodded and did as he was told. While Bud was busy with that, Tolbert went to his room, opening the door and flicking on the light. He sighed and looked around, grabbing the box off the nightstand and making his way back toward Bud. He had made sure that it was alright with Ran'l and Sally before buying it, and he sincerely hoped it would be something that Bud liked.
Tolbert grunted when Bud ran into him, looking up at him innocently.
"Sorry, Tol."
"It's okay. Here."
Bud's brows furrowed as he took the box out of Tolbert's hand. He peeled the wrapping paper off of it, revealing a box for an iPhone. At that, he raised a brow. Tolbert must've hidden something else in the box; why on earth would he get him an iPhone? He carefully opened the box, blinking in shock. Tolbert didn't fool him this year.
His gaze snapped up to Tolbert.
"Like it?"
Bud nodded. He closed the box again, keeping a tight hold on it while he threw his arms around his older brother, who chuckled before pressing a kiss to his temple. Bud sniffled and blinked his tears away.
He pulled out of the hug, moving and setting the box on the desk in his room before returning to Tolbert.
"Why did you get me that?"
Bud knew that iPhones weren't cheap. Why would Tolbert waste his money on it?
"Because you need one. Mama and Poppy said I could get it for you, so I did."
Bud hugged him again. It was easier this time, as he wasn't worried about dropping a box with a brand new phone in it, and he laid his head on the spot where Tolbert's neck and shoulder met. Tolbert wrapped his arms around Bud tightly.
The brothers stood there for a moment; neither one dared to move. Tolbert had heard about what had happened in South Williamson, and he knew that Bud was always a little depressed after he saw someone mock him, so he was rarely the first to release him from a hug.
Bud reached up and kissed Tolbert's cheek before taking a step back.
"Thank you."
The corners of Tolbert's lips turned upward.
"You're welcome. You want to watch a movie?"
Bud nodded, following his older brother to the living room.
—
Bud fell asleep not even halfway through the old action movie he'd picked. Well, it wasn't really old — it was made in the 90s, Tolbert thought, and Bud seemed to like it.
But he'd fallen asleep. Tolbert let the movie finish and turned off the TV, looking down at his baby brother, who was so close that he couldn't possibly get any closer. He stirred in his sleep, his right hand clenching the fabric of Tolbert's shirt.
Tolbert had learned that Bud met Ellison Hatfield and that he knew sign language. Tolbert had met Ellison once or twice before, but he didn't know that the man knew sign language. Ellison was the friendliest Hatfield that Tolbert had met — excluding Cotton Top and Levicy, whom he'd literally ran into at Walmart because he rounded the corner too fast — and he liked him.
Pulling his fingers through Bud's hair, he sighed and glanced up when he heard the front door open. It had to be one of the family; Tolbert only gave keys to them.
"Tolbert!"
Pharmer.
"Yes, Pharmer?" Tolbert asked, raising his voice so he would hear him.
"Hey, Poppy n Mama are worried sick. Y'all wouldn't answer them," Pharmer laughed as he entered the room.
"Oh. My phone's in my room. We were watchin' some action movie he picked out. So please let them know I apologize."
"I will. We jus' wanted t' make sure y'all were alright."
"Yeah, we're fine. That all you wanted?"
"Yeah," Pharmer nodded. "Reckon I'll leave ya alone now. When's he comin' home?"
"I dunno, whenever he wants to, I reckon," Tolbert shrugged lightly. "Why?"
"Jus' wond'rin', Tol."
Tolbert didn't necessarily believe the (blatantly obvious) lie, but he didn't say anything. He only watched Pharmer take his leave and looked down at Bud again. He wouldn't move so long as the boy was sleeping.
—
November 2015
Bud sat in the office of the timbering company, organizing the files. It was the most Ran'l allowed him to do; act as a secretary until he was legally old enough to work for him. So when Ran'l explained why he wasn't letting him up around the mill, Bud understood and did his task without complaint.
He looked up when the door opened, the cold wind that blew outside sweeping through the office. A shiver ran down his spine.
"Come on. You're going with me."
"Where are we going?" Bud looked at his father strangely.
"You'll find out when we get there."
Bud playfully rolled his eyes at the response and stood up, pulling on his jacket. He didn't bother to zip it; he just followed Ran'l out of the office to the beat-up truck. He looked over at his father, who smiled softly at him.
It was the Monday after Thanksgiving, the last day before December began. Bud honestly had no idea as to where Ran'l could be taking him, but he didn't question it. If Ran'l was going to be so secretive about it, the most Bud could do was play along.
—
Ran'l glanced at his son, seeing that he was chewing on his lip. This time, he was certain it was because Bud was bored. With one arm on the wheel, Ran'l reached over and smacked his son's leg, allowing him to take his hand and draw imaginary patterns on the back of his hand. In his peripheral vision, he saw Bud look at him and smile before starting to trace an imaginary design on the back of Ran'l's hand.
Ran'l didn't mind it. It kept Bud occupied. He couldn't talk with him while he was driving, so he knew that he'd have to find something for his son to do.
Ran'l didn't see the vehicle that swerved across the road and t-boned them until it happened. It caused their car to roll over the hill. Bud looked absolutely terrified. And without thinking, Ran'l quickly signed, "I love you."
"I love you too, Poppy."
—
Bud woke up in a hospital room. His face pinched in a pained expression, his right hand being clutched tightly. His head lolled to the side, seeing Tolbert sitting there, Bud's hand in between his, pressed against his forehead. He had his elbows propped up on the bed, and it looked like he was crying.
He went to move his left arm and found it was heavier than usual. He lifted it and found a bright green cast on his forearm, blinking in shock. That was what made Tolbert notice he was awake.
"Hey, baby. Are you hurting?"
"Yes."
"Alright. I'll go tell someone you're awake. Give me a minute, okay?"
Bud nodded in response. Tolbert left the room, giving Bud time to remember what had happened.
He'd been with Ran'l and they'd gotten into an accident. The car rolled, and he'd lurched forward unexpectedly, cracking his nose off of the dashboard. He could remember Ran'l telling him he loved him, and he could remember telling his father that he loved him too. He'd grasped Ran'l's hand again, and the car finally stopped rolling after his wrist bent in a funny angle.
He could vaguely remember the paramedics. He remembered fighting one of them and had seen his father mutter something before he lost consciousness. Bud had tried to get him to wake, but he couldn't really move and had allowed the paramedics to pull him out of the car. He didn't remember anything after that.
Where was Ran'l?
Tolbert returned, a nurse in tow. She moved and started working with one of the machines. Bud waved Tolbert over, turning his hand over and signing letters against his palm.
"P. O. P. P. Y."
Tolbert's face fell. He didn't want to be the one to tell Bud what had happened to Ran'l. Bud had lived with the few injuries he had — a broken nose, a few broken ribs, and a broken wrist — while Ran'l hadn't made it. He'd been pronounced dead at the scene.
Catching sight of the nurse as she got ready to leave the room, Tolbert spoke up.
"Ma'am, I hate t' bother you again, but can you get our mother? She's the only one in the waiting room."
"Yeah, honey," she gave him a sympathetic smile. "I'll send her right in."
"Thank you."
Tolbert sat down on the edge of the bed, keeping hold of Bud's right hand.
"Let me tell you what's wrong with you first."
Bud pulled a face. Why wouldn't Tolbert tell him where their father was?
"You have a broken nose, a few broken ribs, and a broken wrist. They said you'll make a full recovery."
Bud hated signing with one hand, as it was always harder, but he supposed he'd get used to it for the next few weeks.
"Where's Poppy? I want Poppy."
Tolbert glanced over his shoulder as the door opened, heaving a sigh of relief as Sally entered the room.
"Mama, I don't wanna tell him," Tolbert whimpered.
"He askin' for him?" Sally asked, her voice raspy.
"Yeah," he nodded. "Mama..."
"It's alright, Tolbert. He's got t' know what happened."
Bud was watching them curiously and was growing wary. What were they keeping from him? Ran'l was fine, wasn't he? He didn't seem to be too hurt the last Bud remembered.
Tolbert turned toward him, biting on his lower lip.
"Do you remember what happened?"
Bud nodded. He remembered it.
"Bud... the doctor said it was a miracle you made it out with the few injuries you have. Poppy wasn't so lucky."
"Where is—" Tolbert caught his hand and lowered it down his side.
"Poppy didn't make it, Bud. They pronounced him dead after they pulled him out of the car."
Bud's heart shattered to a million pieces. He felt like he'd been punched in the chest, his chest heaving up and down while his brain struggled to process what he'd been told. Ran'l was dead. That meant he must've been dead when Bud tried to wake him.
His eyes flicked to Sally, who looked heartbroken. Tolbert gently took hold of his face, gaining Bud's attention again.
"You should be released tomorrow. We're having the funeral on Friday, just in case they keep you another day."
"You're lying."
Tears spilled onto Bud's pale face.
"You're lying to me. Stop it."
"I wish I was lying, Buddy."
He let Tolbert pull him into a hug, laying his head on his shoulder while silent tears rolled down his face. Ran'l was dead. Bud had likely distracted him when he was drawing imaginary patterns on the back of his hand, so it was his fault. A heartbroken sob tore from the boy's throat, Tolbert carefully wrapping his arms around him.
—
December 2015
Sally had opted to have the funeral at the funeral home. No one really knew why, and no one cared to question it, even though Ran'l always swore that he'd have his funeral at the church.
So the day of the funeral, dressed in black, Bud sat in the front row beside Tolbert. He mostly avoided the gazes he received and shook hands when he had to. Apparently, it was people giving the family condolences or something like that — the useless "I'm sorry for your loss" that never made the loss any easier.
And when he spotted Ellison's nephews, the ones who had mocked him the year before, he lowered his head. Bud had seen Ellison a few times since he first met him, and they always spoke to one another. Ellison was never anything but kind to him.
He saw people stand in front of him, but he didn't raise his head. He didn't even move. He felt Tolbert nudge him, but he ignored him.
"I'm sorry, I don't know what's got into him," Tolbert apologized, gazing from Anse to Levicy to Ellison. "He seems t' be rude t'day."
"Don't be too hard on him, Tolbert," Ellison sighed. "He's still a kid."
"He's just grieving," Levicy added. "He prob'ly don't want to be bothered by people he don't know. It was nice t' see you, Tolbert."
"Nice seein' you, Miss Levicy."
—
Tolbert was livid. He'd never expected Bud to be so rude to people who were just trying to be nice. So when they got home — Tolbert was staying with Sally for a while until things got straightened out again — he caught the boy by his right arm before he had the chance to run up the stairs.
"What the heck is wrong with you? You never act that way!"
"Nothing's wrong with me!"
"Clearly something is. That was rude, Bud! They were just trying to be nice to you!"
"Nothing I do is ever good enough for you!" Bud let out a frustrated huff, tears blurring his vision before he started signing again. "I hate you!"
Before Tolbert even had time to react, he was running up the stairs. Tolbert flinched when the door slammed shut, knowing that Bud was locking himself inside it. He sighed heavily and looked to Sally, who said nothing and simply clamped her hand on his shoulder before going upstairs to change.
Tolbert took his black jacket off, shaking his head. He didn't know if Bud really meant what he said, but he wasn't too keen to find out the answer to that either.
—
It was close to midnight when Tolbert finally tried to get into the room. It was where he would be staying, as it was his old room and Bud had agreed to it when they made the plan. The only problem? It was still locked.
So he went and told Sally, who sighed before going to her room and pulling open the drawer, sorting through a small container full of keys. She snatched one out of it.
"Come on. I'll let him sleep with me t'night, give him some time t' cool off b'fore you two kill each other," she murmured, walking back toward the door.
Tolbert followed her like a lost puppy and leaned against the banister while she unlocked the door to Bud's room.
"Stay here for a minute. I don't want ya goin' at each other's throats."
"A'ight, Mama."
Sally pushed the door open and stepped inside, walking over to the bed and bending down, shaking Bud awake. He inhaled sharply and jerked his head back, blinking a few times so his eyes would focus.
"Mama?"
"Come on, baby. You're sleeping with me tonight."
Bud didn't argue; he got up and shuffled to Sally's room, not even noticing that Tolbert was in the hallway. He laid down on the bed, barely being able to stay awake to see what his mother was saying to him.
"I love you, Bud."
"I love you too, Mama."
Bud scooted closer, curling up against her with his head on her shoulder. Sally gently scratched his scalp, the boy humming as his eyes fluttered shut. He was too tired to fully comprehend where he was, and for that, Sally was grateful. The last thing she needed was her son bursting into tears after realizing he'd laid down on his father's side of the bed.
He dozed off, his left arm laying across her middle while his right was hooked under her shoulders, his hang laying in the spot where her neck and shoulder met, his palm pressed against her back. Sally didn't mind it. Her son was going through enough without her telling him he couldn't curl up against her.
Sally wouldn't ever tell him that. Sally needed comfort just as much as he did, and if anything, they could give it to each other.
Bud had been Ran'l's favorite; Bud was Poppy's boy. He had depended on Ran'l all of his life, and he'd been jerked away from him within a matter of minutes because of an idiot that decided to run a red light. It had left Bud with several broken bones and it had taken his father away from him.
Sally had always scolded Ran'l when she felt he was spoiling their youngest son, and he always argued that he wasn't spoiling him. "Lettin' him have a little fun ain't spoilin' him, Sally," Ran'l always told her before setting out on some adventure with him. That was what they'd been doing when they got in the accident.
Ran'l had been taking him to some museum that Bud had expressed an interest in that was located in another county — she couldn't remember which — and she'd told him he was spoiling him again. Ran'l had denied it with a laugh, giving her a kiss and telling her he loved her before he left. They'd both laughed when Fanny, their youngest, let out a disgusted, "Eww, Poppy!"
They always loved doing that for the reactions they got out of their children — even the grown ones. Tolbert had been standing there as well, and had sighed and shaken his head at it. "Ya get used to it, Fanny. The quicker ya do, the better off ya are."
But Bud seemed to be the only one that didn't mind it as much as the other children did. Maybe it was because they all expressed their love to him by kissing his cheek or his forehead, Sally didn't know, but she knew that Bud was the one out of their ten children that never minded it when his parents kissed each other.
Sally sighed, pressing a kiss to her sleeping son's forehead. It was going to be a long day tomorrow.
—
Bud was still sleeping when Sally woke up. Tolbert came into the room after rapping on the door with his knuckle, and seemed to be less than surprised that Bud was still sleeping.
"He sleep a'ight, Mama?"
"Yeah. He slept like a baby... still is."
Tolbert nodded and carefully closed the door behind him. It was mostly out of habit since they couldn't wake Bud no matter how much noise they made.
"Funny how he's never been a Mama's boy," Tolbert chuckled sadly while sitting on the edge of the bed. "Reckon now he's gonna have t' be."
"No," Sally disagreed. "He'll always be Poppy's boy. Jus' like you n the other boys will always be Mama's boys."
"Mama."
"Well, yer a Mama's boy, Tol. An' yer my fav'rite, too," Sally gave a sad smile. "But yer Poppy has you beat. He's my fav'rite man in the whole world."
"I don't think ya want me as yer fav'rite, Mama. Never know when I'm gonna lash out or hurt somebody," Tolbert stated, his voice shaking. He'd told Sally shortly after he'd told Ran'l, and that was only because Sally had been at his house and went looking for a washcloth and found Lithium instead.
"You're a good boy, Tol. Bein' a bipolar depressant don't mean a thing, honey."
"I hardly slept at all last night, Mama," he admitted, his voice no louder than a soft whisper. "Kept thinkin' 'bout what Bud said, then — then I got t' thinkin' 'bout Poppy and... God, I miss 'im."
And for the first time since he'd received the shocking news, Tolbert sobbed. He'd cried when he received the news, but then it was like his body sent him into a state of shock, and Tolbert hadn't cried at all for the rest of the week. And now he'd snapped out of it, and he was crying just like he had in the hospital.
"I know, baby. We all do," Sally forced the words out, her throat constricting while her eyes welled with tears.
Tolbert wiped at his tears, only to have his chest collapse with another sob. Sally took hold of his hand, rubbing her thumb across the back of his palm while he cried.
"'M-'m sorry, Mama. I'll g-go see if the chil'ren 're 'wake," Tolbert mumbled, bending down and kissing her forehead. "O-oh! Are we — are we gonna meet with Perry t'day?"
"Yeah. Ask him what time would be best. I would, but... my baby boy kinda has me t' where I can't move."
Tolbert let out a strangled laugh and nodded.
"I'll ask him n let you know. I'll see if he can come here, too. You can stay here as long as ya want, Mama. I'll take care of them."
"Mighty kind of ya, Tol."
"Gotta do somethin', right? I don't mind takin' care of them while ya take a few days t' yerself, Mama. You're the one that lost your husband."
"N the rest of ya lost yer father," she pointed out.
"That's true, but I'm not the one that's gonna be here when he wakes up this mornin'. You are. Ya know how hard it's gonna be t' get him t' calm down once he realizes he's on Poppy's side of the bed?"
"I've got an idea of it," Sally sighed. "I'll be down after he wakes up n calms down."
"A'ight. Love ya, Mama."
"Love you too, baby."
—
Perry had read the will, given each of them the envelope with their name scribbled on it in Ran'l's handwriting, and had left shortly afterward. Bud had disappeared after the reading of the will, and no one knew where he'd gone.
So Tolbert set out to find him. He found the boy sitting behind Ran'l's tool shed, his hound dog Missy laying beside him with her head on his thigh, whimpering and peering up at him. Bud stayed at the envelope in his hand, almost as though he was trying to decide if he wanted to open it or not.
"Missy, hush," Tolbert spoke up, crouching down beside Bud and gently placing a hand on his shoulder. He gasped and whipped his head toward Tolbert, his eyes flooding with relief once he saw who it was.
"What are you doing?" Tolbert asked, his blue eyes shining with concern. He'd already had one conversation with Bud that week about how it wasn't his fault — that Ran'l had driven plenty of times before while Bud drew little patterns on the back of his hand. And after convincing him that it wasn't his fault, Bud cried for an hour.
Bud set the envelope on his knee.
"I don't think I can read it."
Tolbert gave him a sympathetic look. He sat down beside him, letting Bud lean against him.
"I want Poppy."
Tolbert sighed and rubbed Bud's shoulder, planting a kiss on top of the boy's head. Bud lifted it again, his eyes focused on Ran'l's handwriting. Tolbert caressed his face, Bud leaning into the touch. It felt nice.
"Missy!" Tolbert chided when the dog started howling. "Go lay down somewheres. He ain't gonna pet ya right now."
Tolbert rubbed Bud's face with the pad of his thumb, the boy starting to cry again.
"Come here, baby."
Bud moved to where he easily buried his face in the crook of Tolbert's neck, Tolbert holding him and rocking back and forth slightly, letting him cry.
Tolbert knew that most people would find it ridiculous that a fourteen-year-old boy sat on his older brother's lap and cried, but they didn't understand Bud. They didn't understand how badly Ran'l's death had affected him. Ran'l was always the first person Bud went to, no matter what the situation was. And if he couldn't find Ran'l, he'd go to Tolbert.
Tolbert looked down at him when he clenched the fabric of Tolbert's shirt, Bud's chest caving with a sob. He took a deep gulp of air and coughed, his head still against Tolbert's shoulder, his forehead pressed against the spot where Tolbert's neck and shoulder met. Tolbert carded his fingers through Bud's hair, repeating the motion over and over again, trying to comfort the boy in some way.
Bud sat there and cried, clinging to his older brother as though his life depended on it. Tolbert didn't mind it; he knew how hard all of this was for him. He knew that Bud didn't fully understand everything because it was hard to explain it, and he knew that Bud didn't hear what the doctors said about it. He knew that Bud didn't know that Ran'l's last words had been to the paramedics who were trying to pull him out, and that they had been two simple words: He's deaf.
Tolbert knew an abundance of things about the accident that Bud didn't know and it did bother him to an extent, but he was just glad that his baby brother had made it out with a few injuries. Ran'l's side of the car had been hit, it had taken the most impact, and that was why his father didn't make it.
Bud made a noise in the back of his throat. Tolbert's attention returned to him and found the boy peering up at him with red eyes. Tolbert moved his hand wiped the tears away before gently rubbing his cheek again. Bud closed his eyes, letting out a deep exhale. His hand came up, still holding the envelope, and covered Tolbert's. He made a quiet noise and leaned into Tolbert's touch.
Tolbert gave him a small, sad smile, moving and pressing a lingering kiss to the boy's cheek. Bud sniffled and blinked to clear his bleary vision, leaning up and doing the same to Tolbert. Tolbert moved his hand.
"Do you want to go in now?"
Bud nodded and stood up. Tolbert stood up as well, wrapping an arm around his baby brother before leading him back toward the house.
—
Bud sat alone in his room, an open envelope in his hand. He'd had Tolbert open it for him before he left to go take a shower, and was in the process of wrestling the paper out of the envelope. He hated only having one hand to work with because of the cast on his arm.
He finally managed to get it out and unfolded the paper, his eyes welling with tears the instant he saw his father's handwriting. But he had to read it. It was one of the only things Ran'l had left for him, and this was the one thing Bud wouldn't let anyone else touch if he didn't have to.
So he took a deep breath and composed himself before reading it.
Bud,
When you were born, I was overseas in the army. I didn't meet you until March of 2002, but your mother had told me everything about you after you were born. (And I did, admittedly, laugh so hard I cried when she told me you were born on my birthday.)
When I met you, I instantly fell in love with you. You were my namesake, my youngest son, and you were a perfect little human. You were an angel, and you still are, Bud.
I have no idea as to when you will receive this letter, but I'm hoping it's a long while from now. And if it's not, you still have your mother and Tolbert to depend on. I want you to be happy in life, I want you to be whatever you want to be when you grow up, and I'm hoping you're grown by the time you read this.
But if you're not, know that no matter what happened, I love you. I love you more than life itself and I would do anything to keep you safe. Your safety is my priority; your well-being and happiness is my priority. I love you more than anything in this world, Bud, and you've always been my favorite.
You're my boy — Poppy's boy, as your mother likes to call ya, and you make me proud, son. Every time you interact with someone who isn't family, I'm proud of you. Every time you take on a new task and find that you can do it with a little bit of work, I'm proud of you. No matter what you do or what you say, I will always love you and be proud of you. You're my pride and joy, my youngest son that will willingly do anything I ask of him.
I ask that you keep living. Keep being the light that the family needs; keep making up stories for your sisters and giving them to your mother for her to read to them; keep loving with all your heart and all your soul, Bud. Don't stop living and don't stop loving people because of the hurt that comes with a death.
I love you, Randolph McCoy, Junior.
Bud wiped at his eyes, setting the paper down and using his sleeve to wipe his nose. Tolbert returned then, finding his baby brother sitting in the middle of their bed, trying to keep from crying. He looked at Tolbert with sorrowful eyes, his hazel eyes full of grief.
"Are you okay?"
"I'm fine. Did you read Poppy's letter?"
Tolbert nodded.
"Did you?"
Bud nodded, clamping his right hand over his mouth. It muffled the sob that tore from his throat. Tolbert picked up the letter and folded it before putting it back in the envelope. He put it in the drawer of the nightstand before sitting down beside him, rubbing his back. It was going to be a long while before Bud even started to get better.
—
January 2016
Tolbert went back to his place around the middle of December. Bud had gotten used to having someone in his room, and he never complained when one of the younger girls came in and climbed on the bed, telling him that they were frightened and wished to sleep with him. And on nights when he felt that it was worse than usual, he slept with Sally.
On this night, he was alone in his room until the door creaked open. He thought nothing of it, as it was probably one of the girls, but quickly found that that wasn't so. Instead, it was Pharmer, who looked absolutely miserable. He looked the way Bud felt.
"Can I stay in here tonight?"
Bud nodded and scooted over, turning onto his side as Pharmer climbed into bed. He gazed at Pharmer, who turned to where he faced Bud.
"Something wrong?" Bud queried, his brow furrowed.
Pharmer burst into a sob. Bud panicked and pulled him into a tight embrace, his older brother sobbing into his shoulder. Bud had no idea as to what to do; he'd never seen Pharmer just break and it scared him. So he held him like Pharmer had held him before when he found him crying over Ran'l.
Bud rubbed his back, his left arm wrapped around Pharmer. He'd gotten the cast removed on the eleventh of January — precisely six weeks to date — and had replaced it with a brace. He didn't mind the brace; it wasn't heavy and it easily slid on and off of his arm.
Pharmer moved back a little, sniffling before moving his hands to where Bud could see them.
"I got to thinking about Poppy."
Bud's heart seized in his chest. Oh God, if he could only count the number of times he'd done the same exact thing Pharmer had done.
"I understand. I do that all the time."
"I know. I just didn't want to bother Cal tonight and—"
Bud reached up and placed his hand on top of Pharmer's.
"You don't have to explain it. I understand."
Pharmer nodded, scooting close to Bud again. Bud didn't mind it; he only rested his chin atop Pharmer's head, rubbing his older brother's back in an attempt to comfort him.
He understood how Pharmer felt. It was the same way he'd felt for the last month and a half, and Bud was starting to wish that he could just make it stop. Well... he was starting to wish that he wouldn't have been so lucky in the crash and that he'd received the same fate as his father. But he kept that to himself and pushed on, trying to help his mother and his siblings as much as he possibly could.
And Bud still didn't know where Ran'l had been taking him that day. Sally and Tolbert had made it plain to everyone that they were not to tell him that he'd been taking him to the museum he wanted to go to; it would only cause Bud to fall into despair again, but this time, with guilt added to it.
They wanted the boy to love history as much as he always had — or rather, the parts of history that he loved — and they wanted him to still go to museums whenever he had the chance. Bud would go in a museum for one specific exhibit, and by the time he left, he'd learned so much just by wandering around that he felt he might explode.
And so far, not a single person had told Bud where Ran'l had been taking him. Maybe it was because Tolbert told them not to, and they all feared Tolbert and his hot-headed temper. Bud didn't, but every other member of the McCoy family — excluding Sally — did.
Bud ducked his head and kissed Pharmer's forehead. God, he wished he could hear so Pharmer could talk to him. He knew how bad it hurt after you just started thinking about it and couldn't stop and ended up crying for what felt like hours. He understood every bit of it.
Pharmer leaned up, pressing a kiss to Bud's cheek.
The McCoy boys thought nothing of kissing their baby brother. It was just something that was done to express their love for him, and he expressed his love for them that way. Bud never saw the stares in public if he ever pecked Ran'l's cheek, or Tolbert's, or anyone in his family that wasn't a small child. They made sure he didn't see those, always making a distraction and getting him to look the other way before he could see it.
They were protective of him, and often put someone in their place if they had the audacity to say something about a fourteen-year-old kissing his brothers and sisters and his parents. Tolbert and Jim certainly didn't care to, and as of late, Pharmer didn't care to either. Calvin never managed to get a word in before someone else did, as he was usually the one distracting Bud.
Bud never understood why his brothers looked so frustrated, but he didn't ever question them. He never wanted to make it worse for them, so he kept it to himself.
But now, to think that he was the one giving one of his older brothers comfort, was something that was unfathomable to him. Bud couldn't be very good at it; the only thing he could do was hold Pharmer in a tight embrace and hope that rubbing his back would help. That was what they did for him, and it usually helped him calm down. Bud didn't know what else he could've done to give him comfort, so he would keep on with what he was doing.
—
After Pharmer awoke the next morning, Bud went to Sally's room. He wanted to talk to her, and he knew that she wouldn't be fully awake yet, so he would go to her.
Entering her room, he found that she was awake, but she seemed to have just woken up. She smiled when she saw her youngest son and waved him over, allowing him to climb on the bed beside her. Bud planted a kiss on her cheek and laid on his side, watching as Sally turned over. She reached forward and kissed his cheek.
"Morning, Mama."
"Morning, baby. What do you want?"
"Just want to talk to you."
Sally smiled softly.
"And what have I done to deserve such an honor?"
Bud rolled his eyes exasperatedly while Sally laughed at him. Sally did her best to keep her son as happy as she could, even if it was making remarks that would earn an eye roll.
"That ain't funny."
"Sure it is. You feeling okay?"
"Yeah. Pharmer slept with me last night."
"Oh, did he? Is he okay?"
"I think so. He just did what I do... he thought about Poppy."
Sally knew her children were hurting. She tried to help all of them the best she could, but she was hurting as well, and she couldn't precisely do anything if they didn't come to her. But Bud didn't seem to mind that they went to him. He enjoyed the company, and he'd even slept in Sally's room on nights she didn't wish to be alone. She didn't know how he knew that, but she never stopped him.
"Are you okay?"
"Yes, Mama. I'm okay."
"Good." She reached up and ruffled his hair. "I want my babies to be happy."
"I know. Are you okay?"
"Yes, Buddy. I'm doing just fine."
Bud smiled at that.
Sally's attention shifted to the door when it opened. Bud followed her gaze, seeing Fanny as she shuffled into the room.
"Mama, 'm hungry," she grumbled, rubbing her eye with the heel of her hand.
"What did she say?" Bud looked genuinely confused.
"She said she's hungry."
"Oh. I'll go fix her something, Mama."
Sally gave a huff and kissed his cheek again. Bud got up, lifting Fanny and placing her on his hip before leaving the room.
—
Bud wasn't sure he could cry anymore.
He'd somehow managed to make Calvin mad at him, and he'd been told plainly exactly what happened to Ran'l and where they'd been going.
"It's all your fault, you idiot! Poppy was taking you to that stupid museum you wanted to go to. And you know what his last words were? "He's deaf." Even when he's dying, he's focused on you!"
Bud flinched and backed away, his back hitting the wall behind him. He didn't know, he didn't know. Why did no one tell him?
An anguished look appeared on his face. A single tear rolled down his pale face, his brunette hair falling in front of his eyes.
"I hate you, Bud! I hate you more than anything! Sometimes I wish Poppy would've hated you, too! He'd still be alive if he did."
Bud supposed he deserved that. After all, he was the reason Ran'l died, wasn't he? Oh God, he was the reason Ran'l died.
Bud went upstairs to his room, closing the door before moving and grabbing a bag, stuffing it full of clothes and sliding his laptop in it as well. He moved to his bed and set the bag on top of it, texting Tolbert and asking him to pick him up. Bud didn't want to stay there anymore.
He didn't have the right to stay under the roof Ran'l had lived under when he was the reason why he was dead. Bud didn't deserve to stay. What he deserved was to be buried six feet under the ground.
His eyes shifted to the door when it opened, seeing Pharmer and Jim. His eyes flicked back down to the floor, waiting impatiently for Tolbert to arrive.
"Bud, what happened?" Jim had crouched in front of him so he could see him.
"Nothing."
He saw Jim sigh. Bud didn't think it was right that everyone else had to suffer because of him. It was all his fault, why did they have to suffer over something he caused?
"Where are you going?"
"Tolbert's."
"Why?"
"I want to."
That seemed to appease him. Jim patted his knee and stood up just as Bud got the text that Tolbert was outside waiting for him. He bid his brothers goodbye and rushed out after grabbing his phone charger.
He ran down the stairs and wrenched open the door, stepping out and closing it. He made his way to Tolbert's truck, opening the door and climbing in.
"Are you okay?"
Tolbert's concerned gaze made Bud feel awful. He didn't deserve that. But he nodded anyway, giving his older brother an answer while he turned to reach his seatbelt.
—
Tolbert knew that something was wrong with Bud. It wasn't like his baby brother to text him without warning asking him to pick him up. He knew that something must've happened, but it was taking longer than he thought it would for him to coax it out of him.
He hadn't seen Bud look so depressed since the day Ran'l's will was read. He'd managed to get him to a point where he was happier than he had been, and he'd been pretty happy up until now. So what happened?
It was like Bud wasn't even there. He wasn't talking to Tolbert like he usually did; he'd just curled up in Tolbert's armchair, his forehead resting against his knees, and he cried. Bud was trying to distance himself again, and Tolbert wasn't going to let him.
So without as much as a second thought, Tolbert picked up a pillow and threw it at him. Bud's head jerked up, revealing his bloodshot eyes, but he didn't react to it after that. His eyes flicked down to the floor and he stared at it, a forlorn expression crossing his face.
Tolbert had had enough. He moved to where Bud could see him, sitting on the floor in front of him.
"What's wrong, Bud?"
Bud shook his head vigorously. He couldn't tell him, he couldn't! Tolbert would hate him if he ever figured out that Bud was the one to blame for Ran'l's death.
"Bud, honey, you're scaring me."
Bud's throat constricted and he suppressed a sob, staring down at Tolbert. Tolbert reached up, placing his hand on Bud's cheek. Bud flinched away from him. He couldn't tell Tolbert and lose him too. It was bad enough to have Calvin hate him.
If Calvin knew, did that mean Sally knew as well? Did Sally hate him too? Did she really hate it when he came into her room and slept beside her, on Ran'l's side of the bed, and tried to comfort her? Did she only press a kiss to his cheek because she felt like she had to? Did she wish he was dead too?
Bud's breathing started to become labored. He felt Tolbert grasp his hand, his blue eyes filled with concern as he gazed at Bud, who slid out of the chair and curled up against Tolbert, throwing his arms around him. He had Tolbert. He would have Tolbert so long as no one ever told him what happened. He hoped that no one ever would; Bud needed somebody, and if the only person he had was Tolbert, then he'd get through it.
But if he lost Tolbert, Bud wouldn't have anybody. Bud wouldn't want to live if he lost Tolbert as well.
Bud closed his eyes and swallowed thickly. He hadn't known that he was the reason Ran'l was dead. If he had, he wouldn't've bothered anybody. He wouldn't have tried to comfort the others, he wouldn't have bothered his mother, and he certainly wouldn't ask Sally and Tolbert to take him out to the cemetery. Bud didn't deserve to be able to go; he was the reason he died.
A sob tore from Bud's throat, his head laying on Tolbert's shoulder. Tolbert held him, trying to comfort the boy. He didn't know what was wrong with him, but he held him close to him and rocked back and forth, trying to help him.
Tolbert bent down and kissed Bud's cheek, the boy whining as he shoved him away. Bud kicked himself away from Tolbert, his back hitting the wall.
Tolbert looked at him, his eyes full of hurt and his jaw slack while he observed his little brother. Bud had never done that before, and it hurt. It hurt more than he cared to admit. Bud's eyes stayed locked with his while he curled up in the corner, his chest heaving with deep, heavy breaths. Tolbert could see the fear in Bud's eyes.
"Bud, what's wrong?"
Bud shook his head.
"I can't tell you."
Tolbert's face contorted to a bewildered expression.
"Why not?"
"I don't want you to hate me."
"Hate you? Why would I hate you?"
"I can't tell you. I promise, Tol, I can't tell you."
Tolbert stood up and walked over to him, bending down and picking Bud up. Tolbert carried him down the hall, going to his room. Bud looked at him strangely when Tolbert passed Bud's room, but he didn't complain when Tolbert took him to his room.
He set him on the bed before going back and closing the door. He turned and looked at Bud, who lowered his gaze. Tolbert sighed as he walked over to him, pulling his shirt over his head and tossing it on the floor before getting on the bed and lying down, letting Bud put his head on his chest. He adjusted the blankets and glanced at him, a wave of sympathy washing over him when Bud did nothing more but lay his left arm on Tolbert's torso.
Bud wasn't acting right.
Tolbert was trying to figure out what could have happened, but he wasn't able to come up with anything. He knew that he'd gotten Bud to the point that he'd go to someone when he started feeling the way he did when it first happened, and he knew that the girls and Sally thoroughly enjoyed the boy's company when they slept beside him.
Sally had told him that Bud somehow knew when she didn't want to be alone. She said that he would show up in her room and ask to sleep there, and she never said no. She also said that the girls had gotten through it a lot better because Bud let them sleep with him in his room, and he never once complained about it.
So what had happened to him? Bud wasn't acting like himself at all and it scared Tolbert. He supposed he'd have to ask Sally if she knew what was wrong with him.
—
"Mama?"
"Yes, Tolbert?" Sally's voice filtered through the speaker.
"D' you know what's wrong with Bud?"
"What d'ya mean, honey?" He could hear the confusion in her voice.
"He's actin' strange. He's depressed again n I asked him what was wrong, an' he said that he can't tell me 'cause he don't want me t' hate him. I don't know what's wrong with him, Mama."
"No, I don't know what it is. I'll ask your brothers; they'll prob'ly know. Last time I saw him, he was fine. And that was when he got up t' go make Fanny somethin' t' eat this mornin'."
Tolbert didn't understand it. Bud had been fine the day before, had even insulted Tolbert before he left. Bud had been fine then, so what happened?
"A'ight, Mama. Let me know if ya find out, will ya?"
"Yeah, baby. I'll let ya know what I find out. I love you."
"I love you too."
—
Bud jerked awake, gasping sharply. In a blind panic, he kicked and shoved himself away from Tolbert, who groaned when Bud kicked his ribs. He reached over and turned the lamp on, finding his baby brother on the other side of the bed breathing heavily, his eyes wild with panic.
Tolbert shifted and gently placed a hand on Bud's bicep, the boy taking a sharp breath before realizing who it was. He blinked a few times, still breathing heavily, realizing that it was all a dream.
"I'm so sorry! Did I hurt you?"
"No, you didn't hurt me, Buddy. What's wrong?"
"Just a nightmare, Tol."
"Okay. You wanna talk about it?"
"Not really."
Tolbert nodded, carding his fingers through Bud's thick locks of hair. Bud hummed and scooted a little closer, but not so close that he was curled against him again.
"Are you okay?"
Bud nodded. He was fine, he really was. He'd gotten to where he could ignore the pain in his stomach and he was trying to figure out how he could go about keeping the fact that he was responsible for Ran'l's death a secret.
"If you tell me, I promise I won't hate you."
Bud didn't believe that. Tolbert would hate him if he told him. Tolbert would likely kill him if he found out Bud hadn't eaten since the day he left, too. So really, Bud felt like he had good reasonings for keeping things to himself.
"Alright. Try to get some sleep, Buddy."
—
"Hey, Mama," Tolbert greeted after opening the front door. "C'mon, he's still sleepin'."
Sally sighed as she entered Tolbert's home, glancing around.
"He say anythin' last night?" she questioned, walking behind Tolbert while he led her to Bud's room.
"No," he sighed, opening the door and hitting the switch. "He seems convinced I'm gonna hate him if he tells me what it is. And here's somethin' I don't understand, Mama. He brought clothes with him. Look at this."
Tolbert moved to the dresser and pulled out each drawer, revealing the clothes inside it.
"He's got clothes here, Mama. He knows that."
Sally sighed, noticing that the bag Bud had brought with him was thrown carelessly on the bed, a few articles of clothing laying on the bed. She picked up one of the shirts, recognizing it as one that Ran'l had bought him.
"They're the clothes your Poppy got him," Sally realized, tossing the shirt to Tolbert. "Oh God, it must be gettin' bad again. Remember when all he'd wear was the clothes your father bought for him? He can somehow remember who bought what."
"I don't know what's wrong with him, Mama. He's never been this way before. You'll see what I mean when he gets up. He's just..." Tolbert bit down on his lip while he tried to think of the word to describe his brother. "He's just... different, ya know? He's completely different from what he was the other night."
Sally sighed as she pulled out Bud's laptop, noticing how he'd just stuffed everything in the bag. She knew it had been folded in his dresser at home. So she sat on the bed and pulled it out, catching the shirt that Tolbert tossed back to her. She recognized it as the one that Ran'l had had custom made. It was a white t-shirt with Lalala, I'm not listening written on it. Bud had found it hilarious and wore it almost every time he went out in public.
Despite everything, Bud had an amazing sense of humor. There were times, without thinking, Sally would ask him if he was listening to her and his response would be: "I can't listen, Mama."
So to have her carefree son so downhearted all the time was really disheartening. She was used to Bud pulling pranks on his brothers, who would yell and scream until they turned red in the face before going after Bud, who had likely hidden somewhere in the house. She was used to Bud making up stories and giving them to her to read to the girls, who always liked Bud's stories. They never once disliked one. She was used to Bud being happy all the time.
"He'll come around event'ally," Sally spoke up, pulling herself out of her thoughts. "Just give him a day or two. He'll be fine, you'll see."
"Mama... ya'd have t' see him t' understand it," Tolbert argued meekly. "He's not okay."
"Well, none of us are, Tol. It's — your brother will be fine. He's grievin' just like the rest of us, an' it seems t' be takin' its toll on him. I worry for him, I do, but I trust him. He'll come t' one of us eventually. You have t' trust him."
"I do trust him. He woke up last night an' started fightin' like a crazy man. Kicked me in my ribs n when he got t' the other side of the bed, his eyes were absolutely wild, Mama. Somethin's wrong with him. Ya sure the boys don't know nothin'?"
"Pharmer don't, neither does Jim. Cal says he don't but I think he knows more than he's lettin' on," Sally voiced her opinion on the matter. "Pharmer n Jim were tryin' t' get it outta him when he left yesterday. Reckon Bud's just got himself in a mood n he ain't willin' t' talk t' no one."
"Maybe..." Tolbert muttered, looking up at his mother. "I'm sorry, Mama, reckon I jus' worry too much."
Sally laughed quietly and shook her head.
"N Bud's givin' ya plenty of reason t' worry."
"Ain't that the truth."
"Try talkin' to him when he gets up. Find out if he's sick too, will ya? Fanny said he wouldn't eat nothin' yesterday, and said he said his stomach was hurtin'."
"A'ight, Mama. I'll let ya know what I find out. You just gonna fold clothes the whole time yer here?"
"It drives me crazy, Tolbert, you know that."
Tolbert laughed heartily at that.
"I'm gonna go check on him."
—
Tolbert looked up as Bud shuffled into the kitchen, rubbing his eye with the heel of his hand. He sat down on one of the barstools at the kitchen island, Tolbert raising an amused brow.
"Hey, Buddy. You want something to eat?"
"No."
Tolbert blinked. Bud had to be sick. Tolbert knew his brother; knew how much he actually liked Tolbert's cooking (and he was the only one who'd ever gotten the chance to try it), so he knew the boy had to be sick. Tolbert rounded the island and sat on the barstool next to Bud, turning to where he faced him.
"Are you feeling okay?"
"I'm fine."
Tolbert placed the back of his hand on Bud's forehead. He wasn't running a fever. His brows knitted together in confusion.
"You sure?"
"Yes, Tolbert. I just ain't hungry."
"Any reason for that? I know you didn't eat yesterday."
Bud glanced up at him and averted his gaze, closing his eyes and letting out a deep, shaky breath. If he had to admit to something, he would rather it be that he hadn't eaten for a month. He was starting to lose weight and it was becoming a little noticeable, but no one ever said anything to him. It couldn't have been that noticeable, then.
"Please don't get mad."
"Why would I get mad?"
"I haven't ate since you left."
Tolbert gaped at him.
"You haven't ate in over a month?!"
"No."
Tolbert felt like he'd been punched in his chest. Bud wasn't eating. He hadn't been eating since December fifteenth, and it was now January sixteenth. Bud hadn't eaten for a little over a month.
"Why haven't you been eating, Bud?"
"I ain't been hungry."
"You ain't been hungry? Bud, it's been over a month!"
"Don't get mad!"
"I'm not! How are you still going?!"
"I don't know."
"You've at least been drinking, right? You're not dehydrated on top of being starved?"
"Yeah, I've been drinking. That's all I do. Food just don't seem appetizing anymore."
"Bud, you can't stop eating. Let me make you something to eat."
Bud looked at him, his eyes pleading with him. But a defiant streak crossed them.
"And what are you going to do if I don't?"
"I'll tell Mama ya haven't ate for over a month. She'll force you to eat if she has to feed you herself."
Bud paled.
"Fine."
Tolbert heaved a sigh of relief. He knew he'd have to make something that wouldn't make the boy sick, so he got up and scrambled around to find what he needed to make some soup. Bud liked vegetable soup, and Tolbert would make it if it meant Bud would eat.
Bud tapped Tolbert's hand when he returned to the kitchen island, setting what he'd found down. He looked up at Bud, whose eyes glistened with tears.
"I'm sorry."
Tolbert let out a breath, his gaze softening.
"Don't be. You want to help?"
Bud nodded. Tolbert moved and grabbed the cutting board and a knife, setting it down in front of Bud before grabbing one of the carrots that laid in front of him.
"Watch what I do, then you can do it. Okay?"
"Okay."
—
Bud anxiously chewed on his lip, his eyes flicking over to Tolbert every few seconds. God, he wanted to tell him. He wanted to tell him that everything that had happened was his fault and that he had no idea how to fix any of it. He wanted to tell Tolbert everything since he'd taken the conversation that morning rather well.
But there was still the chance that Tolbert would hate him after he told him. Bud didn't want Tolbert to hate him.
He couldn't decide if it would be best to tell him or not. If he told him, there was the chance that Tolbert would try to help him with it, but there was also the chance that he would despise him. If he didn't tell him, Bud would have to find some way to deal with the guilt on his own while he tried to tell everyone that he was fine.
Tolbert hadn't gotten mad at him that morning... maybe he could tell him about what Calvin had told him without Tolbert despising him. Maybe he could tell him and everything would be okay. Bud knew he needed to talk to someone, but he wasn't sure who. Calvin hated him, he was pretty sure Sally was getting tired of him sleeping in her room and clinging to her as though he was a toddler, and he was almost certain anything he told Pharmer or Alifair would directly go to Sally. Then there was Tolbert.
Tolbert might understand, and then he might not. He might have sworn that he would hate Bud until the day he died, or he might've helped him through whatever it was he was feeling.
He had Roseanna too. His older sister who had moved out recently and had told him that she would always be there for him no matter what. He wasn't sure if Roseanna was capable of hating anybody, as she was always so kind and sweet to every person she came in contact with, so Bud had a good chance of not being hated if he told her what was said.
Bud jumped when Tolbert poked him.
"Sorry. Are you okay?"
"Yes. I'm okay."
Tolbert nodded and planted a kiss on Bud's temple.
"Tolbert, can I go to Roseanna's?"
"Sure. You want your stuff?"
"Yeah. I'll be right back."
—
Roseanna had received a text telling her that Bud was coming over. So when she heard a knock on the door, she thought nothing of it and opened it. Bud stood there, bag in hand, biting on his lip.
Roseanna ushered him inside, closing and locking the door behind him. He went and put his bag in the guest room before returning.
"I need to tell you something."
Her brows furrowed and she tilted her head slightly.
"You can't tell anybody."
"I won't. Why don't we sit down first?"
Bud nodded and followed her to the living room. They sat down on the couch, Roseanna reaching forward and grabbing a hair tie off of the coffee table and pulling her hair back in a ponytail.
She knew that her brother hadn't eaten for a month. Tolbert had sent her a text — one that Bud didn't know about — explaining that he hadn't eaten and recommending that she didn't feed him anything but soup and maybe stew. He knew that if Bud got sick after eating something that he would stop again.
So she knew it wasn't that. Bud had told Tolbert about that, why would he want to tell her? Roseanna knew it was something worse than him not eating, and that terrified her.
"What's going on, Buddy?"
Bud bit down on his lip, his eyes flicking up and meeting her's for a moment.
"I don't know how to say it."
"Try."
"I know where Poppy was taking me that day. He was taking me to the museum that I showed him. The history museum I found online, you know?" He looked up at her to see her answer.
"Yes, I know what you're talking about. Go on."
"I didn't know that until yesterday. I didn't know Poppy's last words were "He's deaf" either. I swear I didn't know. It was my fault Poppy even got the idea to go to Louisville. So in a way, it's my fault. In a sick, twisted way, all of this is my fault. It's my fault Poppy's dead because I showed him that stupid museum."
Roseanna stared at him in shock for a moment.
"Oh God, honey, no. It wasn't your fault. None of it is your fault. You like history, it interests you. There's nothing wrong with wanting to go to Louisville to a history museum, and Poppy was more than willing to take you. It wasn't your fault, Bud."
Bud shook his head.
"Yes, it is! It is my fault. I wish Poppy would've hated me when he was alive. If he had, he'd still be living."
"Bud!" Roseanna's eyes widened. "You quit saying things like that!"
"Well, it's the truth, Roseanna! Or at the very least, I wish Poppy wouldn't have died. I wish I would've died instead, or that I would've died too. Either one is fine with me."
Roseanna stared at him, feeling like the breath had been knocked out of her. Bud wished he was dead. Bud had somehow found out where Ran'l had been taking him and what his last words had been, and now he thought it was his fault.
"Who told you that, Bud?"
"Told me what?"
"Where Poppy was taking you. Who told you?"
"Calvin."
Roseanna bit the inside of her cheek to try to keep her rage hidden from him.
"He told me he hates me more than anything, Rose. He said he wishes Poppy would've hated me, too — that Poppy would still be alive if he had. He's not wrong, Rose, he's really not. He said it was my fault and that even when he was dying, Poppy was focused on me. I'm so sorry."
Roseanna took Bud's hand, her blue eyes pleading with him.
"Let me talk to him."
Bud looked conflicted. If he let Roseanna talk to him, it was likely the two of them would get into an argument.
"Bud? Please, let me talk to him. You weren't at fault. You couldn't help that some jerk ran a red light. That's on him, not you."
Bud hung his head and nodded. He would let her talk to him. It was the least he could do, he supposed, and he really didn't want to make it any worse. Maybe he was by letting her talk to him, he didn't know.
"I'm going to go talk to him, okay? You wanna stay here?"
"Yes."
"Alright. I'll be back soon, baby."
—
"CALVIN!" Roseanna shouted the second she entered Sally's home.
"Upstairs," Sally called from the kitchen.
Roseanna ascended the stairs, knocking on the door to Calvin and Pharmer's room. Pharmer pulled it open, his brows furrowing when he saw her.
"Calvin here?"
"Yeah..."
"Let me see 'im."
Pharmer moved out of her way, letting her enter the room. Calvin was sitting on the edge of the bed, his eyes focused on the floor.
"Calvin McCoy," Roseanna growled. Calvin looked up at her.
He couldn't remember seeing Roseanna as mad as she was now. He didn't know why she was mad at him; Bud was at Tolbert's so there was no possible way that she knew about what he'd said, right?
"What is wrong with you?" she demanded.
"What d'ya mean?" Calvin asked softly, his voice raspy.
"Tellin' Bud all that! Have ya lost yer mind, Calvin?! Is that what happened t' you?!"
"Don't you come here an' start on me!" Calvin raised his voice and stood up. "If it wasn't for him and his stupid museum, Poppy would still be alive! If Poppy didn't pick that — that nobody as his fav'rite, he'd still be alive, Roseanna!"
Roseanna could see the way Pharmer paled in her peripheral vision.
"Cal, don't — don't say that," Pharmer stammered. "Bud ain't a nobody."
"Well, he can't do anythin' on his own, can he? He can't even sleep by himself anymore! He's actin' like a selfish, self-centered, spoiled lil baby that needs t' be put in his place."
"Calvin," Roseanna shot him a warning glare.
"None of us but Bud was there with Poppy when he died. Bud was the one that was there when he died, Calvin, not you. Bud tried t' wake him up, r'member that? R'member how he didn't leave his bed for two days after he came home? He was crushed, Cal," Pharmer took up for his younger brother. "He's helped us all with grief. He lets us sleep with him if we don't wanna be alone. He won't say no. Bud's jus' tryin' t' make it easier for everyone, don't you see that?"
"Poppy wouldn't've even been there if it wa'n't for Bud and his stupid history museum," Calvin seethed.
"Stop it. You're placin' the blame on an innocent fourteen-year-old boy that can't hear a dagon thing, Calvin. Those museums give him a little bit of joy, and you know how Poppy was. If he could do anythin' t' make any one of us happy, he'd do it. He was jus' tryin' t' give him a good day, let him have some fun at a museum he wanted ta go to."
"It woulda been better for all of us if Bud wa'n't born."
Roseanna didn't think twice — she slapped him as hard as she could across his face.
"You shut your dagon mouth. Bud ain't done a thing t' you, so keep your mouth shut. Ya had no right t' say what ya said to him, Calvin. Ya have no right t' be standin' here blamin' it all on him n sayin' it woulda been better for all of us if he wa'n't born. Ya have no right. Bud's hurtin' more than any of us n he's tryin' his very best t' hide it. Bud was there, he blamed himself from the minute he found out Poppy died. You know that, Calvin? That Bud blames himself for Poppy's death anyways, and what ya said t' him made it worse?!"
"Yeah? What about the rest of us, Roseanna? What about the rest of us who have t' hide it so it don't look like we're as bothered, huh?! Why should we have t' go out an' act like nothin's wrong when he gets t' sit in his room all day long and do God knows what—"
"He don't jus' sit in there!" Roseanna screamed. "Up 'til t'day, he hadn't eaten a thing for a month, Calvin. A month. You think he don't hide it from you? He tries his best t' hide it from every single one of you. That boy sat here an' starved himself for a month, an' no one noticed. Not one person noticed that somethin' was wrong with him. Know what he told me t'day, Calvin?"
"What?" Calvin's voice dropped to a hoarse whisper.
"He told me he wished he'd die. That he wishes he'd been the one t' die n not Poppy, or that he woulda died when Poppy did 'cause it didn't matter t' him. I'm so scared he's gonna wind up doin' somethin' that's gonna really hurt him or even kill him, an' there ain't gonna be nothin' I can do 'bout it 'cause I won't know. I'm scared that all of you are gonna try somethin' like that, an' I don't wanna lose any of ya. Cry if you want to, Calvin. No one's gonna judge ya for it. Cry an' scream an' let it all out. Don't bottle it up 'til ya end up like this, Cal. You'll do more harm than good that way. Understand?"
"Yeah," he breathed, nodding ever so slightly. "I understand. Where — where is he?"
"He's at my place. I figure he's asleep by now. He looked tired when he was talkin' t' me."
"Okay. Mind if I come with ya? I've gotta talk t' him."
"Sure, Cal. C'mon. Pharmer, you tell Tolbert n tell him it's gettin' straightened out. Just text him, it'll be okay. Tolbert's not gonna hurt anybody s' long as I'm here."
"Okay, Roseanna," Pharmer agreed softly.
—
Calvin had been told to look in the guest room first. That was where Bud was going to stay until he decided to go home, so Calvin did as he was told and walked down the hall to the guest room, rapping on the door with his knuckle before pushing it open.
He sighed when he found it empty, turning and coming face to face with Tolbert. He yelped in surprise.
"Relax. I made a promise I wouldn't hurt you, or scream at ya. I want to, but I ain't gonna," Tolbert told him, his blue eyes full of understanding. "I know how ya feel, Cal. Feels like ya shouldn't want t' cry or — or anythin' like that. Like ya shouldn't have that empty feelin' in yer chest. But you do. Ya cry at night when no one else is awake n ya can't seem t' find anythin' that fills that void, so ya look for someone t' blame, an' ya blame the first person who comes t' mind. Ya get mean wit' 'em 'cause ya found someone t' take it out on, an' they jus' stand there n take it. Even if they know what you say ain't true."
"I didn't mean no harm," Calvin spoke softly. "I never meant t' let what Bud did bother me s' badly. I didn't know he hadn't ate for a month, Tol. If I did, I woulda fed him."
"It wouldn't-a mattered if you knew or not. He wa'n't gonna eat nothin'," Tolbert tried to comfort him. "C'mon. We'll finish this in the kitchen. Roseanna's got a plan n it'll work."
"Y' sure? I doubt Bud wants t' see me right now."
"Bud loves you, Calvin. He might believe that ya hate him, but he still loves ya. C'mon."
They moved to the kitchen, Tolbert leaning against the counter while Calvin sat down.
"I didn't think... I didn't think that I could hurt him with what I said," Calvin whispered. "An' then t'day, I got mad 'cause Roseanna came in mad n started tellin' at me. Oh God, Tolbert! I—I said he was a nobody n that it woulda been easier on all of us if he hadn't been born. Oh my God, I didn't mean it. I didn't mean any of it."
Tolbert crossed the room and sat down beside Calvin.
"He don't know ya said that, Cal. What yer gonna do is talk t' him. If anyone understands what yer feelin' right now, it's Bud McCoy. He'll understand, Calvin. But you have t' let yerself cry, an' grieve, an' just let it all out before it even starts t' get better. I want ya t' get better. I don't like you bein' s' hurt that ya hurt other people, Cal."
Calvin bit down on his lip.
"Bud'll let ya talk t' him. He understands. He won't make ya feel like yer weak or whatever it is that keeps ya from lettin' it out. Bud blames himself for it anyway. He's blamed himself ever since he found out that Poppy died in that crash. So really, Calvin, I don't think ya hurt him very much with that. It was ev'rythin' else that got to him."
"I'm not sure he'd want t' see me after what I said ta him, Tolbert."
"He will. Bud's got a good heart, an' he's got the worst habit of letting people get close to him. Even when they hurt him, he's gonna let 'em get close again. That's jus' how he is, ya know that."
"Yeah..." Calvin trailed off, his eyes staring at the surface of the table.
"Cal? I do believe someone wants t' see you," Roseanna smiled softly. "Go on. He wants t' see you."
Calvin sighed and got up, heading out of the kitchen.
—
Bud sat on his bed, picking at his nails. He knew that Calvin was there and that he'd be there in just a minute or two so they could talk out whatever it was that happened, and Bud wasn't sure how to feel about it.
He looked up when the door opened. Calvin stepped inside and shut it behind him, making his way over to the bed.
"Can I sit down?"
"Well, yeah."
Bud pulled a face and Calvin sat down beside him, turning to where faced him. He sat with his legs crossed, and he sighed as he gazed at his younger brother. His eyes scanned his frame, noticing how he'd become thinner. How had Calvin not noticed it before?
"I am so sorry for what I said to you. I didn't mean a word of it."
"It's okay, you're right. It was my fault."
Calvin shook his head. It wasn't Bud's fault. He'd been so desperate to hide his pain that he placed the blame on Bud, who was absolutely innocent. And because of that, Calvin had lost his temper with him when Bud asked him if he would hug him. He knew Bud was having a hard time coping with the sudden loss, and he'd still lashed out at him without so much as a second thought.
"No, it wasn't. You can't help that some idiot didn't follow the law, Bud. He ran a red light and Poppy got the worst of it. It's not your fault. I promise you, it's not your fault."
Bud's eyes watered.
"It feels that way," he admitted, hanging his head so low that his chin touched his chest. "I'm sorry."
Calvin reached out and lifted his head.
"It's not your fault. I'm so sorry I said all that to you. I made it worse and didn't even think that maybe, just maybe, you already felt that way. I'm so sorry for blaming you. I just wanted to keep the hurt away and instead, I ended up hurting you. I'm sorry, Buddy."
"It's okay. I don't want anyone to feel like they've done something wrong because of what they said to me. I deserve it. I deserve to be hated and screamed at, even if I can't hear you when you do it. Cal, if I tell you this, you have to promise you won't tell anyone."
"I promise."
"I want to die, Cal. I wish I would've died when Poppy did. I want to die so bad, Calvin."
Calvin felt like the breath had been knocked out of him. Like someone had crushed his lungs in an iron grip, making it impossible for him to breathe again. His fourteen-year-old brother wanted to die. Calvin probably played a part in that.
"Oh, Bud."
Bud sobbed. Calvin pulled him close to him, holding him tightly while he sobbed into his shoulder. Apparently, Calvin wasn't the only one that hid how he truly felt.
"Does Tolbert know you feel that way?"
Bud shook his head vigorously. Tolbert didn't know a thing about it. All he knew was that Bud hadn't eaten for a month, and even then, Bud thought his older brother was going to have a heart attack. He didn't really want to risk what might happen if he told Tolbert that he wanted to die.
"Oh, honey. Why do you want to die?"
Calvin felt that given the circumstance, he had a justified reason for asking that. He doubted anyone would ever know it — Bud seemed adamant about keeping this conversation secret.
"I just don't want to live anymore. I don't have Poppy, I don't have the one person I've always depended on. I don't know what to do anymore and it just feels like my heart is in pieces, Cal. I can't piece it back together."
"You may not have Poppy, but you've got all of us. There's ten people I can think of that loves you very much, and not one of them wants you to die. I know two of them are in the kitchen, scared to death that you're going to do something that's going to end up hurting you or killing you. They're scared they're gonna lose you, and I'm scared of that, too. I don't want to lose you, Bud."
Bud sniffed and wiped his nose with his sleeve.
"I don't mean to scare anybody."
"I know, honey. It's not that you really give us a reason to worry about it. It's more that we know how hard it is when you're grieving. We know how it feels, Bud, and we all know the thoughts that come with it. Sometimes, we can make death look magical in our minds. I promise you, Bud, death isn't magical."
"It's so hard, Calvin. I try to hide how much it really hurts and to just be there for everyone else, but I don't think it works. I think Mama knows. I think Tolbert does too, but I'm not sure. I just want it to stop."
"So do I. I never gave myself the chance to grieve. I just bottled it up and when it got to be too much for me, I blamed you and took it all out on you. I'm so sorry, Buddy. I never should have said what I said."
Bud gave a huff and wiped at his eyes, ridding himself of the tears.
"It's okay. I've said some things I didn't mean, too. Like the day of Poppy's funeral, I told Tolbert I hated him. I apologized for it, obviously, but he spent the whole day thinking I hated him."
"I never knew that."
"Tolbert and Mama were the only ones who knew about it. Maybe Jim since Tolbert has the tendency to tell him everything. I don't know." There was a slight pause. "Calvin, do you ever feel worthless?"
"Sometimes. Why?"
"Because I'm worthless. I can't communicate with people that isn't family or the people that don't know sign language, I can't read lips, I can't do anything. I'm worthless."
"You are not worthless. You're unique. There's plenty of people out there that's just like you. And yes, you can communicate with them. You can write. You can type out whatever you want to say and they can read it and type an answer. You are the best out of us, Bud. No one compares to you when it comes to compassion."
Bud reached and grasped Calvin's hand. Calvin was two years older than him, but he seemed so much smarter than Bud. Bud leaned forward and placed a kiss on Calvin's cheek. Calvin returned the gesture.
"You okay?" Calvin asked, his eyes shining with concern.
"Yes, Cal. I'm okay." Bud ran his thumb across Calvin's knuckles. "Want to watch a movie with me?"
"Sure thing, Buddy. Let's hope Rose and Tol don't think we've killed each other."
Bud laughed — a wide smile with his shoulders shaking while he didn't make a sound — and released Calvin's hand. Calvin brought both hands up, ruffling Bud's hair to the point that it became messy. Bud swatted at his hands, shooting his older brother a playful glare. Calvin shrugged innocently before moving to where he laid down, stretching his arms above his head.
Bud grabbed the TV remote and laid down as well, but not before grabbing the covers and covering up with them. Calvin breathed a laugh, knowing how his baby brother had the tendency to get cold easily. Bud nudged Calvin gently and handed him the remote.
—
Tolbert was starting to worry. He'd been helping Roseanna rearrange things and throw things away, as she decided to tackle spring cleaning in the winter, for whatever reason she had, and three hours had passed without so much as a glimpse of Calvin or Bud.
"You think they're okay?" Roseanna huffed, setting a box down.
"I dunno. I'll go check on 'em in a second. Here, I'll get that. Go sit down b'fore ya fall over, Rose."
Roseanna nodded and did as she was told. Tolbert moved the box to the porch and set it down before going back inside and walking down the hall to the guest room. He opened the door and found Bud and Calvin sleeping. Calvin held tightly to Bud, who had his head laying on Calvin's chest, and seemed to be sleeping soundly.
Tolbert was shocked to find Star Wars playing on the TV. His brothers weren't exactly sci-fi fans, and usually watched action movies, historical fiction movies, Disney movies, and movie musicals, even if Bud didn't really get the songs. He just liked to watch them dance. And every now and then, Bud would convince them to watch a horror movie or a documentary on history with him. And as long as the documentary wasn't narrated by someone who made them want to fall asleep, they were fine with it.
He walked over to them, grabbing the remote and turning off the TV. He set it on the nightstand, shaking his head as he left the room.
Returning to the kitchen, Roseanna looked up at him expectantly while taking raising a glass of water to her lips.
"They're asleep."
She hummed and nodded, setting the glass down on the table.
"Of course they are. They okay?"
"Well, they were watchin' Star Wars, but they seem fine. I don't think either of 'em really likes Star Wars."
"Mmm... might be the only thing on."
"Maybe. I dunno, long as they ain't killin' each other, I don't care," Tolbert shrugged lightly. "Anythin' else ya need carried out?"
"Nah, 'm good. Thanks."
Tolbert nodded before sitting down. He had no doubt it was going to be a long day.
—
April 2016
Bud looked up from his desk when someone poked his arm. Calvin stood there, and quickly let him know that Tolbert was there for him. Bud nodded and closed the notebook he was writing in, shoving it in his backpack before standing and heading out the door.
Bud hadn't been feeling well, and since everyone had gotten into the habit of going to him when they couldn't sleep or they were having a bad night, Sally thought it would be best if he went to Tolbert's just until they were sure it was nothing contagious.
So Bud climbed in Tolbert's truck, giving him a wave as a greeting. Tolbert knew he felt bad just by the way he greeted him. Bud was always one to sign "hello" or "hey" before kissing their cheek. So when Bud did nothing more but wave, they knew he either felt bad or he was in a bad mood.
Tolbert drove the short distance to his house. He gave Bud the keys, knowing that the boy would likely beat him to the porch, and he slid out of the truck.
Bud shuffled to the porch and shoved the key in the lock, turning it and opening the door. He fought to get the key out again, setting the keys on the kitchen table before shuffling to his room and tossing his bag in the corner. He turned around and stumbled back, coming face to face with Tolbert.
"Hey. You wanna come lay in my room? I'm going to watch a movie."
"Okay."
He followed Tolbert to his room, laying down beside him and curling up against him. Bud felt miserable. He'd always been clingy when he was sick; it went from clingy to hateful, and then there were the (wonderful) times it was both.
Tolbert started pulling his fingers through Bud's hair. It felt nice and he closed his eyes, allowing him to do it while he drifted in between consciousness and unconsciousness. Tolbert knew that he was and kept pulling his fingers through his hair, watching the boy as his breathing evened out. Bud must've felt pretty bad if he didn't even try to stay awake.
Tolbert sighed, hoping that it was something Bud overcame easily.
—
Bud was miserable. His stomach hurt, his head hurt, everything hurt. He was curled up on the couch, four blankets covering him. Tolbert had to work so Roseanna came over to take care of him.
"Hey, baby. Want something to eat?"
"No."
Bud didn't think he'd be able to keep it down if he did eat.
"Will you let me take your temperature?"
"Sure."
Roseanna got up and went to the bathroom, finding the thermometer on the sink. Tolbert had told her it was brand new and he had the intention of using it on Bud, but he had to get ready for work and then he (literally) had to run out the door because he was late.
She went back to the living room, where Bud had covered his head. She sighed and pulled the blankets down, bending down and sticking the thermometer in his mouth. Bud whined, his hazel eyes barely open while he shot Roseanna an irritated look.
"I know, honey. I'm sorry."
The thermometer beeped and she took it out of his mouth. A sigh passed through her lips and she shook her head. Her baby brother wouldhave to have a fever of 103.0 when she didn't have any way to get him to the doctor.
"Bad?"
"Not too good. 103."
Bud's nose crinkled. Usually, a fever of 103 meant he had to go to the doctor. Bud didn't want to move from the couch.
"I don't have to go anywhere, right?"
"Right. You can stay here."
—
That evening, Bud got up to find some aspirin. His head was throbbing and he was honestly tired of it.
Tolbert was home by then, and had gone to his room after telling Bud he'd be working on the accounting for the week. Bud had nodded and went back to sleep then, but now he was awake and his head was hurting ten times worse than it was before.
He shuffled to the bathroom and opened the medicine cabinet. He found fever reducer and Mucinex, and other medicines that were basically for colds and allergies. He frowned until he noticed a bottle in the back. He grabbed it, hoping it was what he needed (why didn't Tolbert have Advil of all things?).
Bud read the label and nearly dropped it. Lithium.
Why on earth did Tolbert have Lithium? Bud hurried to Tolbert's room, shoving the door open. Tolbert looked up at him and quirked an inquisitive brow. Bud stepped closer and tossed him the bottle.
"What are you doing with Lithium?!"
Tolbert sighed and set it on the nightstand.
"Are you really digging through my medicine cabinet?"
"I was trying to find an aspirin. My head is killing me."
"Oh. Aspirin's in the kitchen. I haven't got around to putting it up yet."
"Lithium, Tolbert. What are ya doing with Lithium?"
"It's for my bipolar depression. I've been taking it since you were eight."
"Oh. Why didn't you tell me?"
"Poppy knew. Mama knows. That's enough for me, really. It's embarrassing, Bud. I've got something wrong with my head."
"No, you don't. Lots of people have it."
"And those people aren't nicknamed Crazy McCoy."
"You really going to let them idiots bother you? I'll hit them next time I see them."
"You'll do no such thing. Go get the Advil and go back to bed."
"I don't want to go back to bed."
"Then come in here. I don't care."
"Okay. Be right back."
Bud went to the kitchen, finding a bottle of Advil setting on the table. He grabbed it and opened it, taking one out before shuffling to the sink and grabbing a glass. He filled it with water and took the aspirin, washing it down with water.
He made his way back to Tolbert's room, glass of water in hand. Tolbert glanced up at him as he set the glass on the nightstand, watching him crawl onto the bed.
"How ya feeling?"
"Miserable."
Tolbert raised his brows at the answer. He should've expected that, honestly. Bud looked like he was miserable. He would've been more surprised if Bud answered with anything but miserable.
"Everything hurts, Tol."
"I'm sorry, honey. Why don't ya try to sleep?"
Bud nodded, closing his eyes as Tolbert reached down with his left hand, massaging Bud's scalp. He hummed and scooted a little closer. He didn't mind being sick as much when Tolbert played with his hair. It felt nice. Bud dozed off, Tolbert chuckling.
—
October 2016
On the evening before Bud's fifteenth birthday, he broke down again.
Tolbert had held him while he cried, and he'd ended up falling asleep in Tolbert's room, snuggled up to his older brother. Tolbert didn't mind it; he knew it would likely be worse once the boy woke up.
And Tolbert had been right — it was much worse when Bud woke up.
It took him a minute to register where he was, then it took him a few more minutes to register why he was there. And then he broke. He sobbed into Tolbert's chest, wheezing as he drew in breaths, tears rolling down his face and onto the pillow.
Tolbert rubbed his back in a feeble attempt to calm him. He didn't know what he could possibly say to make a difference with it, but he would try his best. Tolbert gently tapped the boy's cheek, gaining his attention.
"Hey, it's okay. Breathe."
Bud took in a breath.
"Bud, calm down. Tell me what's wrong."
"Poppy. I want Poppy."
It wasn't often that Bud actually admitted that he wanted Ran'l. It was more of a rare occasion that was starting to become more and more common due to all the holidays and little things that they used to do this time of year. It was around this time of year Ran'l would start trying to get ideas for Christmas gifts, and he would often ask Bud's opinion on it. Bud always gave his honest opinion and Ran'l always appreciated it.
Tolbert wanted a way to make it easier for Bud. Almost an entire year had passed since the accident, and everyone but Bud was slowly piecing themselves back together. They all had bad days and nights, and on those days, they would sleep with Bud, who was more than willing to let one of his siblings sleep beside him. He still went to Sally's room when she had bad days, and she let him curl up against her. It always seemed to calm her, even if Bud couldn't hear a single word she said.
"I know you do. Why don't we go out today? We'll do whatever you want to do."
Bud shook his head. He didn't want to go anywhere. He didn't want to go out in public.
"Are you sure?"
"Yes, Tolbert. I'm sure."
Tolbert sighed. Sally had sent him over to Tolbert's the night before in hopes that Tolbert would be able to help him. She'd hoped that Tolbert would be able to convince him to go out and have fun, to do whatever he wanted for a single day.
But it wasn't working. No matter what he thought of or tried, none of it persuaded Bud to get out of bed. He laid there and refused to move. So after about ten minutes of failing, Tolbert went to go take a shower, leaving Bud alone.
Bud didn't see the point in celebrating his birthday anymore. He didn't want to be alive, so why should he celebrate his life? Why should he get to go out and have fun when his father was dead? Why did he live and Ran'l die? Ran'l was more important than Bud was; everyone depended on Ran'l. No one depended on Bud.
And he knew that it was irrational to think of harming himself, but he thought about it more and more often. He thought of different ways of taking his own life and kept them all stored inside his head. He kept every harmful thought to himself and tried to act like he was getting better. But they knew he wasn't. He didn't know how they knew, but they knew.
He'd read several times that suicide was selfish; that it was something that only inflicted harm upon others. That wasn't true in Bud's case. No one would be bothered if he died. After all, he'd been the reason Ran'l had died, hadn't he? Ran'l had been taking him to that museum, and on top of that, Bud had distracted him while he was driving. It was Bud's fault, he knew it was his fault.
And he believed that suicide wasn't selfish. He believed that it was the best way out when you weren't loved. He believed that it was the best way to get out of everybody's way when you were nothing but a burden and had been your entire life. He believed it was the best way to make people's lives easier.
Bud had no reason for living. He was pretty sure everybody was sick of him acting the way that he was and he tried to stop, he really did, but nothing he did ever made it better. He was almost certain even Tolbert was sick of him.
He wanted his father. That was all he wanted. He wanted Ran'l back. He wanted to be able to go back in time and switch places with Ran'l. He wanted to be the one that died, and his father the one that lived.
Ran'l deserved to live. Ran'l did so much to help every member of their family and several people in the Tug Valley.
Bud deserved to die. Bud was worthless and stupid, and no one ever had anything to do with him even when he did try to communicate with them. They would scoff and say something, and Bud knew it had to be something that would've been considered offensive by the looks on people's faces when it was said. Bud was ignorant.
He curled up under the covers, sniveling. He didn't want to be alive. He wanted to be dead. He supposed he could tell Tolbert the truth if he asked him what he wanted. Maybe Tolbert would have compassion on him and let him die. Maybe Tolbert would see that Bud had been trying to tell him all along that he was nothing but a stupid, worthless idiot that didn't know a thing that went on around him.
But he knew what would happen if he told Tolbert that he wanted to die. He'd tell Sally and Sally would force him to stay with Tolbert until he "got better". Bud would never get better. The longer he stayed alive, the worse it was going it get.
He didn't know who he could tell that would actually let him die. Not very many people understood him. Well, there was Ellison Hatfield. Bud had been told that there'd been some trouble between their families a long time ago and that it had all been cleared up. He had no trouble believing that, as Ellison and Ran'l always spoke to the other whenever they saw each other.
Maybe he could talk to Ellison. Ellison would understand, wouldn't he? Ellison would understand that it was all Bud's fault and that he should be dead instead of Ran'l. Ellison wasn't related to him, he didn't have to lie and say that it wasn't Bud's fault. He could tell him plain.
Tolbert tapped Bud's shoulder to gain his attention. When had he gotten back?
"What do you want to do?"
"I want to talk to Ellison."
"Hatfield?"
"Yeah."
"Okay. Go get dressed."
—
Tolbert sighed as he pulled into Ellison's driveway, parking the truck and getting out. He closed the door, Bud trailing behind him like a lost puppy. They walked up to the front door, standing on the porch as Tolbert rang the doorbell.
Ellison's wife, Sarah Ann, opened the door.
"Is Ellison home?" Tolbert asked, trying to think of a way to explain why they were there to her.
"He is," she nodded. "I'll get him for ya."
Tolbert watched her disappear inside the house. She returned a moment later with Ellison, who mumbled something to his wife before greeting Tolbert.
"How can I help ya, Tolbert?"
"He wants t' talk t' you," Tolbert responded quietly. "It was all he said he wanted. He's not been the same since Poppy died in that crash they got in. I'm sorry if we're botherin' you."
"No, no, I'll talk to him. You both come in. I'm sure Sarah won't mind entertainin' ya while I talk with him," Ellison stepped aside, allowing both McCoy boys to enter. "I've been meanin' t' stop in n check on him anyway. I've been thinkin' 'bout him here lately."
He closed the door once they were inside, directing Tolbert to the kitchen, where Sarah Ann would be. He grabbed Bud's bicep when he started to follow Tolbert.
"I thought you wanted to talk to me."
"I do."
"Follow me. We'll talk in my room."
Bud felt weird following Ellison to his room. He didn't really know Ellison that well, why was he bothering him with his petty problems?
"Sit down, Bud."
They sat on the edge of the bed, Bud anxiously chewing his lip. Ellison noticed it.
"What's the matter?"
"I'm sorry for bothering you."
"You're not bothering me. I'm glad you came. I've been meaning to stop and check on you."
"I just don't know who else to talk to at this point. No one understands, Ellison."
"Help me understand."
"I want to die, Ellison."
Ellison's heart plummeted to his stomach. He had a boy no older than his own son sitting in front of him telling him that he wanted to die.
"Why?" Ellison queried, slightly tilting his head to the side.
"I should've been the one to die in that crash. Poppy did a lot of good. I'm just a worthless idiot. I lost the person I loved the most and it's made me different. I know people don't like it. They're sick of it, they're sick of me. I think my family is getting sick of me, too. I don't think any of them really love me; especially the ones that know what happened."
"Bud, that accident wasn't your fault."
"He was taking me to a museum in Louisville I'd shown him. It was a history museum. And... while he was driving, he let me trace patterns that were invisible. I distracted him."
"It wasn't your fault. You had no way of knowing that some idiot was going to run a red light, Bud."
Bud sniffed.
"Then why did Poppy have to die? Why wasn't it me?! I'm stupid, I'm worthless! If one of us had to die, why wasn't it me instead?"
Ellison gently grasped Bud's biceps. The boy gazed at him, his hazel eyes glistening with unshed tears.
"You're not stupid and you're not worthless. You're different and there's nothing wrong with that. Your father died because the car hit his side extremely hard. The rollover didn't help him any. Your father loved you very much, Bud. He would've done anything to keep you safe, even if his side hadn't been the side that took the impact."
"Why would he do that? I'm not worth it."
"But to him, to a lot of people, you are. You're worth it."
"I don't feel that way."
"I know."
Bud bit down on his lip, his eyes meeting Ellison's.
"Tolbert doesn't know that I want to die."
"He doesn't?" Ellison blinked in surprise.
"No. I try to hide it the best I can. No one knows what I think about, Ellison. I try to keep it all to myself and it's really hard."
"Then tell me. I won't tell anyone."
Bud hung his head and thought on it for a moment. Ellison wouldn't judge, would he? He'd listen to what Bud had to say and tell him what he thought on it.
"I think about dying a lot. I've thought of more ways to kill myself than I ever thought I could. It doesn't scare me anymore when these thoughts just... just appear in my head. I don't want to live. Everybody acts like they want me here, they act like they love me and they don't care if I stay in bed all day and cry, but I know they're lying to me. I think some of them blame me for it, but they won't admit it. I don't blame them for it, I feel the same way, but I want them to tell me they feel that way. I don't want them to act like they don't care if I get around them or go to them when I'm having a bad day."
Ellison watched him take a shuddering breath. Bud wasn't done yet. And that was the moment Ellison's heart broke. He had a fifteen-year-old boy in front of him confessing that he wanted to die and he'd thought of more methods to kill himself than he cared to admit.
"They don't love me, Ellison. They act like they do, but they don't. No one loves me. I'm to the point that someone could point a gun at me and I wouldn't care. I wouldn't care at all if someone killed me. I wouldn't care if everyone told me they hated me because it would be true, and it's one thing I deserve. I want to be dead, I don't want to be here."
Bud burst into a heartbreaking sob. Ellison gently tapped his forearm.
"Come here."
Bud didn't hesitate to do as he said, crawling over to him. Ellison pulled Bud onto his lap and held him, just like Ran'l used to. He had one arm wrapped around Bud and the other cupped his face while Ellison gently rocked back and forth. It was what Ran'l used to do whenever Bud was upset.
Bud laid his head on his shoulder. Maybe he shouldn't have said so much.
—
"Excuse me a minute, Tolbert. I'm gonna go see who's tryin' t' beat my door in," Sarah remarked dryly, causing Tolbert to nearly choke on his coffee.
Sarah made her way to the front door and opened it, revealing Anse and Levicy.
"Where's my brother?" Anse asked plainly.
"In his room."
"Thank ya."
"Levicy!" Sarah caught her arm. "There's a fifteen-year-old deaf boy in there talkin' with him. I've got his brother in the kitchen. Make sure Anse don't say nothin', will ya?"
"Anderson won't say anything," Levicy assured her before rushing to catch up with her husband.
—
Bud had fallen asleep. Well... he'd actually cried himself to sleep. Ellison still held him, afraid to move in fear of waking him. Bud seemed so peaceful while he slept that Ellison didn't want to risk ruining that for him.
He looked up when the door opened, revealing his older brother.
"Hey, Anse," Ellison greeted casually, as though he didn't have a teenager in his arms.
"Ellison, is that Little Randall?" Anse looked at his brother strangely.
"Yes, it is. He wanted t' talk t' me an' after pouring his heart out, he cried himself t' sleep," Ellison murmured. "He's deaf so you can talk as loud as ya want. It won't bother him none."
"What'd he want t' talk t' you for?" Anse queried as he entered the room and sat down.
"Said he didn't know who else t' talk to. It's real hard on him t'day."
"Why?"
"Him n Ran'l share a birthday. Bud turned fifteen t'day, and Ran'l woulda been fifty-three. It's takin' its toll on him."
"Well, I came here t' yell n drag you t' work, but I can understand why ya didn't come in. Stay here with him, Ellison. Looks like ya gained another kid."
"Anse," Ellison shot him a look. "That ain't funny."
"Sure it is. Ya just don't have a sense of humor."
"I'll have you know I have a wonderful sense of humor. You're the one outta the two of us with a terrible sense of humor."
"Oh, are we gonna forget 'Lias and Wall exist?"
"A'ight, outta the four of us, you're the one with a terrible sense of humor."
"Nah. Wall's worse than me."
Ellison laughed at that.
"Levicy, do me a favor n get Tolbert, will ya? I think he'd like t' know what's goin' on," Ellison let out a soft chuckle. He wouldn't mention anything about their conversation; he'd promised he wouldn't.
Levicy nodded, heading out to fetch Tolbert.
"Well, I'm gonna head out now. Take care, Ellison. If he comes by again, you stay with him. He needs ya more than I do right now."
"Thank ya, Anse."
Anse nodded and stood, taking his leave.
Ellison looked down at the sleeping teenager in his arms. He loved Bud. He'd only seen him a handful of times since Ran'l's death, but before that, he'd seen him several times and he always made a point to speak to him. He loved watching the way he lit up whenever he spoke to him. There was something about Bud that made Ellison love him.
Maybe it was because he sort of reminded him of his own son. Cotton Top was disabled. He was often mocked and they'd been told it was likely he wouldn't ever be able to speak, or walk, or eat solid foods, but Cotton defied them and proved that he could.
"Miss Levicy said y' wanted me. Somethin' wrong?" Tolbert inquired as he rounded the corner and entered the room. He stopped when he saw Bud.
"He fell asleep. I haven't dared t' move yet. Tolbert, I can't tell ya what he said 'cause I promised I wouldn't, but ya need t' try t' get him t' talk t' you. Or maybe we can start doin' this more often. He's grievin' n there's so much hurt with it... I wanna help him the best I can, but I ain't sure how to."
"I'll see what he'd rather do after I get him home. Mama's makin' all his fav'rites for supper."
"You want me t' wake him?"
"Nah. Let him sleep. It's the only time he looks peaceful anymore."
Ellison nodded slightly. Bud stirred in his sleep, but he didn't wake.
"He's a good kid, Tolbert. Yer parents did good with both of y'all."
"Thanks, I reckon." Tolbert observed the way Ellison was holding Bud. It was the same way Ran'l used to. "Y'know, he ain't been held like that in almost a year. That's the way Poppy always held him. He loves bein' held that way."
"Oh, really?" Ellison blinked in surprise.
"Mhm. He practically melts when he's held like that. It's like he's a little kid again," Tolbert laughed softly. "I'll bring him by more often if ya want me to."
"I wouldn't mind it. I enjoy his company."
—
November 2017
Bud pulled into Tolbert's driveway, honking the horn. He had been given the task of driving Tolbert to the hospital, as his older brother was as stubborn as a mule and wouldn't go to the doctor until he could barely breathe.
Tolbert came out, closing and locking the door behind him before making his way to Bud's SUV.
"I'm sorry."
"If you'd go to the doctor when we tell you to, you wouldn't be like this," Bud quipped.
Tolbert couldn't argue with that. He just didn't like going to the doctor unless he absolutely had to. And since it was getting to the point that he couldn't really breathe right, he had to.
Bud shifted into reverse, turning his head while he turned around. He shifted into drive and turned the wheel, driving across the small bridge. He saw Tolbert messing with the radio and paid him no mind. Bud couldn't hear it so he didn't care.
They set out toward MedExpress, as that was the most Tolbert would agree to when it came to going to the doctor. He wouldn't agree to Pikeville Medical Center, even though Bud was 99.9 percent sure Tolbert had pneumonia and should be hospitalized.
Bud stopped at a red light, glancing over at Tolbert as he sneezed. Bud pulled his handkerchief out of his pocket and passed it to Tolbert, who signed his thanks. Bud nodded as the light changed again, pressing his foot on the gas peddle.
—
Bud had been right — Tolbert had pneumonia. Since it wasn't a severe case, he was sent home with a couple of prescriptions and told to stay in bed. Bud rolled his eyes when Tolbert translated that for him. He knew he'd have a fight on his hands when it came to keeping Tolbert in bed.
Much to Bud's surprise, the first thing Tolbert did upon arriving home was change and go to bed. Bud was busy trying to figure out how to get Tolbert to take the medicine he'd been prescribed, as he knew his older brother would put up a fight over that as well.
Tolbert was usually pretty easy to get along with when he was sick, as he usually didn't do anything but sleep, but when it came to taking medicine or listening to someone else, he fought against them. And Bud really wasn't in the mood to be fighting with his older brother.
Getting the doses he needed, Bud went to Tolbert's room, where Tolbert peeked out from beneath the blanket.
"Sit up."
Tolbert rolled his eyes and did as he was told. Figuring he could make it a little easier on Bud, he took the medicine without complaint, though he did pull a face after taking each one. Bud had found that funny and had laughed at him.
"Not funny."
"It really is. I've never seen you make a face like that."
"Shut up."
"You want a cold cloth or something? Something to drink? I know you don't want anything to eat."
"Something cold, please. I don't care what it is."
Bud nodded and went back to the kitchen. He found a Gatorade in the fridge, deciding that would be good enough and snatched it, heading back to Tolbert's room. Tolbert was still sitting up, and he thanked Bud before taking the Gatorade. Bud nodded silently.
Tolbert opened it and took a sip, glancing at his baby brother, who had settled in a chair beside the bed. Oh, so Bud didn't trust him to stay in bed. Tolbert honestly wasn't surprised at that. Bud knew how he was and he knew that Tolbert would get up.
"You don't have to act like a mother hen."
"I do when it's you I'm taking care of. You don't listen."
Tolbert couldn't argue with that. Bud had a really good point.
"Alright then. Are you doing okay?" Tolbert asked. He knew something was off with Bud, but it was much harder to coax him into telling him what was wrong ever since Ran'l died.
"I guess so."
"Is the grief any better?"
He watched Bud hesitate.
"No. It's gotten worse."
Tolbert sighed and set the Gatorade on the nightstand.
"Talk to me."
"I think about death a lot. I've thought of a lot of different ways to die, Tolbert. It used to scare me, but it doesn't anymore. I'm not scared when these thoughts keep me awake. Thoughts about dying and killing myself. Then sometimes I wonder why it wasn't me instead of Poppy. I'm worthless and stupid. Poppy deserved to live, not me."
"Bud, Poppy would have wanted you to live. It wouldn't matter whose side got hit, he would've done his very best to protect you at all costs."
"I watched him die, Tolbert."
Tolbert felt like the breath had been knocked out of him. If anyone knew about that, they'd never mentioned it to Tolbert.
"He said something to the paramedic and he went unconscious. Or that's what I thought happened. He died right in front of me. I tried to wake him up, I really did."
"Oh, Bud."
Bud sobbed and hung his head. Tolbert grasped his hand.
"I'm so sorry, Tolbert. It's all my fault. I never should've shown him that stupid museum."
"Hey, stop that. It wasn't your fault, honey. All of it was an accident. Poppy wouldn't want you to blame yourself."
"Who else are you going to blame?"
"The guy who caused the accident. He was going way too fast and he ran a red light. He broke the law, Bud. You did nothing wrong by wanting to go to a museum."
"We wouldn't have been there if I hadn't shown him that stupid museum. Poppy would still be alive if I hadn't shown him that stupid museum."
"Bud, you can't help what happened. You had no way of knowing some idiot was going to do something that caused a lot of harm. None of it was your fault, do you understand me?"
"Yes."
"Good. Come here."
Bud crawled onto the bed and curled up against Tolbert. He didn't care if Tolbert was sick or not; Tolbert gave some of the best hugs in the Tug Valley. Bud reached up and planted a kiss on Tolbert's cheek.
"You're going to get sick doing that."
"I don't care."
Bud laid his head on Tolbert's shoulder, letting his older brother wrap an arm around him. Bud wrapped his arms around Tolbert's middle and hummed in contentment. He didn't care that Tolbert was sick. He liked being near his older brother.
Tolbert pulled his fingers through Bud's hair, watching the boy's eyes flutter closed. Tolbert had known for the longest time that there was something wrong with Bud, he just couldn't get Bud to talk to him.
But now that he had, Tolbert felt that he could help Bud more. Bud had told him earlier that he hadn't slept much the night before and that he was really tired, and he'd told Tolbert that he spent most of the night thinking about Ran'l. Tolbert didn't have a doubt in his mind that that was true. Bud was always thinking about Ran'l.
And sure, Tolbert knew that other people thought it was weird for the two of them to be as close as they were, but frankly, Tolbert didn't care. He didn't care that the gossip women had started talking about Bud going to see Ellison and staying there for hours, he didn't care that they thought it was ludicrous when Bud kissed his cheek or any of their family's cheeks, and he didn't care that Ellison, Sarah, and Cotton Top had started attending church more and more often and that Ellison was always sandwiched between Bud and Cotton.
Tolbert remembered how his mother had nearly fallen out of her seat when Ellison first walked through the door. The Hatfields were known for coming to the Easter and Christmas services and nothing else. And when Ellison Hatfield sat down beside her youngest son and smiled at him tenderly, almost identical to the way Ran'l used to, well, Tolbert was pretty sure Sally had a miniature heart attack.
And after that, Ellison started showing up more often, doing things with Bud. Sally encouraged it — Bud was happy again. Any time he was around Ellison, he was happy. Bud had found another person to look up to as a father figure, and she certainly wouldn't stop him. She'd rather him look up to Ellison than look up to Perry Cline or Frank Phillips, she'd told Tolbert. It wasn't that she didn't like them — she just didn't think they were the kind of influences Bud needed in his life. Ellison had a good heart and a good soul, and she knew he'd never intentionally lead Bud in the wrong direction.
It was mid-summer when Sally realized just how much Ellison loved her son. He'd called her, telling her that he was taking Cotton Top to a bowling alley in Pikeville and asked if Bud could come along. She'd asked him and he'd said yes, so she allowed it and had seen the way Ellison interacted with him. Ellison treated Bud like he was his own son.
Tolbert had figured that out the first time Ellison sat beside Bud at Sunday meeting. He'd spent most of his time after the service speaking with Bud, who looked overjoyed that Ellison had shown up.
But now, with Bud curled up against him, Tolbert wondered just how much Ellison knew. He knew that Ellison had suggested for Tolbert to attempt to get Bud to talk to him, but he hadn't said why because he'd told Bud he wouldn't say a word about it. Maybe that was why Ellison had suggested it.
Bud gently tugged on Tolbert's shirt to get his attention.
"What are you thinking about?"
"You."
"Why?" Bud's brows furrowed.
"I worry about you, Buddy. I think I just figured out why you've seemed a little off for a while now."
Bud bit his lip and nodded slightly.
"Ellison knew. He's known since the first time I talked to him."
"I figured."
Bud smacked the side of his face, earning a strange look from Tolbert.
"Something bit me!"
Tolbert's brows knitted together and he observed Bud's face.
"Whatever it was, it's not there now."
"Probably because I killed it."
"Probably." Tolbert chuckled.
Bud looked up at him, smiled, and nuzzled against his shoulder. And it was then that Tolbert realized that Bud was still like a child. He wouldn't ever grow out of it. He fully depended on the people he loved, there wasn't any way that he couldn't. They did all the communicating for him whenever they were out in public — even at the doctor's office, Bud had someone with him so they could do the talking. (It was shocking to see how many people didn't know sign language and worked in healthcare. Bud had stopped trying to communicate with them when he was eight.)
Tolbert would always be there for Bud. He didn't care if Bud ended up hating him and everything about him, he would always be there for him when he needed him.
—
August 2018
Bud sat beside Ellison, who had an arm wrapped around the sixteen-year-old. He watched Johnse take a step back before taking off in a sprint, trying to jump over a fair-sized hole in the ground. Johnse didn't make it. Bud winced sympathetically.
"That had to hurt."
"He'll be back on his feet in a minute. He's done worse than that, Bud."
Cap was up next. Bud saw Anse shake his head in his peripheral vision and laughed, nudging Ellison before nodding toward Anse. Ellison laughed as well. Bud watched as Cap ran, taking a leap and landing (almost) gracefully on the other side. He jumped when someone placed a hand on his shoulder, turning to find Wall.
"You want anything?"
Bud blinked. He didn't know Wall knew sign language.
"No, thanks. I didn't know you knew sign language."
"Not many people do. You enjoy watching those two make fools of themselves?"
Bud laughed and nodded. Wall gave a small smile and ruffled Bud's hair before sitting down next to him.
"Why don't many people know?"
"Well, I don't really know anyone who uses sign language other than you. I haven't had the chance to talk to you until now."
"Why do you and Ellison know it?"
"I took it up because I was bored and wanted to do something. So I learned sign language. I honestly don't know why Ellison knows it."
Bud nodded slowly.
"You always learn a new language when you're bored?"
Wall barked a laugh, startling Ellison.
"No, not always."
"Good Lord, Wall! Ya scared me outta my skin," Ellison grumbled.
"Sorry. Ya didn't tell me he was witty, Ellison."
"He can be when he wants t' be," Ellison chuckled. "He's a good kid. Sally n Ran'l did real good with this one, even if they had no idea what they were doin'."
"All their other kids can hear, can't they?"
"Yeah."
"Then what happened with Bud?"
"I don't know. Sally thinks that somethin' happened to his eardrums. She never could find out why her youngest son was born deaf."
"He was born this way?"
"Mhm," Ellison nodded. "I think that's why he don't mind it much. He's never known what it's like t' hear."
Wall hummed and nodded slightly. Ellison gently poked Bud.
"I'm going to go talk to 'Lias for a minute. I'll be right back."
Bud nodded, watching him as he got up and made his way over to 'Lias. He turned to Wall, whose eyes flicked toward him while he quirked a brow.
"Do you like the county fair?" Bud asked.
"Usually. I get to watch my nephews act like a bunch of idiots."
Bud laughed. He liked Wall. He'd never really talked to him before, but Wall had always seemed like a nice person to him.
"Well, I'm not sure if I'd call them idiots. They're just special."
"They're special, alright." A pause. "Special idiots."
Bud shook his head and looked forward, finding that Johnse was talking to Roseanna.
"You know her?" Wall asked. Bud knew that Wall knew their family, so it was likely he just hadn't recognized her yet.
"Yeah. That's my sister Roseanna."
Wall gave him an odd look before casting his glance back toward Johnse and Roseanna.
"You're right. Johnse was standing where I couldn't see her at first."
"I have a feeling that's common."
"Extremely common. We never know who he's with because all we see is blonde hair."
Bud smiled and glanced over at where Ellison was. Ellison was laughing with 'Lias, who seemed to be irritated at whatever his brother had said.
"Are you a judge?"
Wall nodded.
"I am. I happen to be a judge in Mingo County."
Bud nodded. He was right, then. He'd thought Wall was a judge, but he didn't know if that was true or not.
"Any interesting cases?"
"They're all interesting in their own way. Sometimes it's because someone's crazy, other times it's the case itself. Then there's the rare occasion that it's both."
"Do you like your job?"
"I do. People have found out quickly that threats don't bother me."
Bud let out an amused huff.
"Tolbert's behind you, by the way."
Bud turned around, finding Tolbert. Tolbert ruffled his hair and gave him a soft smile.
"You ready to go?"
"Yeah."
He quickly signed a goodbye to Wall, standing and leaving.
—
Bud ended up staying with Tolbert. And on top of that, he had a nightmare that threw him into a panic attack, so he ended up sleeping in Tolbert's room.
"You alright now?" Tolbert asked, his eyes shining with concern.
"Yes, I'm okay. I'm sorry."
"Don't be. You can't help it, Bud."
"I guess."
"Listen to me, okay? I will always be here for you. Always. Even if you end up hating me and everything about me, I'm always in your corner. I'm always here to help or listen, or even just hold you until you feel better. That's what I'm here for, Bud. I'm here to help you. Okay?"
"Okay," he nodded slightly. "I love you."
"I love you too."
Bud kissed Tolbert's cheek. Maybe everything would be alright after all.
