Starring: Patrick 'Spot' Conlon, Alexander 'Specs' Conlon, Jeremy Conlon, Richard 'Snipeshooter' Conlon, Sue-Ellen Conlon (Starring roles subject to change by chapter)
Chapter 2: My brother, Specs
—Spot's PoV—
To my friends I am Spot, but in front of our parents they call me Patrick. Patrick Conlon, after my great-grandfather, who first travelled to America. He was a Fenian, a member of Irish rebels who fought against the American and Canadian governments. Ironic, really, because now my father, Jeremy Conlon, is a strong upholder of the law: a police officer.
Being a copper and all, it's no wonder that my father had heard about the bust.
"I never want you getting messed up in things like that, you hear?" he asks, though we've held this conversation many times since March when my parents send Specs off to rehab.
The sheriff says, according to my father, that Specs is the reason for the bust. It was because of Specs that the sheriff got a lead on the pusher. Unfortunately, he reached the crime scene late and missed the guilty party.
My brother, Specs, has been busted for drug possession. As a matter of fact, my father caught him and made him attend rehab.
Specs was never a straight-A student or a star athlete or one of those kids teachers praised on a regular basis, but he worked hard at everything he did and rarely got in trouble. Or at least did his best to stay out of trouble. But nobody's perfect. Saying such leads me to admit that Specs' mistake was getting caught in the act.
I think he was always careful, never slipping up or smoking a joint around the house, but instead on street corners and secluded buildings or his friend's houses.
To this day, the details of his apprehension by my father are hazy. Maybe he'd decided on a joint after he was high so he wasn't thinking straight, or perhaps he was just plain careless. So mow Specs is a mystery to the town, because my mother has forbidden anyone beyond the sheriff and the mayor to know.
Us Conlons, though crude and rough at times, are proud, honourable people.
"Not all Conlons have done right, but no matter what they did, they believed it was the best thing to do," my father told me once, a phrase that has stuck in my head until at least thus far in my life. I must admit that I thoroughly agree, but I'm still not sure what the best thing to do with my life is. I haven't really done anything significant or groundbreaking yet in my seventeen years of living. I joined Air Cadets in grade eight, but quit in grade nine because it was tremendously boring. That still is amazingly ineffectual, making no difference whatsoever in my life, let alone the lives of anyone in the world. Anyone.
Specs has changed my life and the lives of my family, but not for the better.
==
Late January.
The coldness in the air drew us all further into our jackets and forced us to pump up the heat.
He stood by the side of the school, rubbing his hands together, trying to keep warm.
"Why don't you go inside?" I asked him, my breath hanging visible in front of me.
He shrugged, leaning against the wall, watching the yard with extensive anxiousness and conveying a very agitated manner. He smelt smoky-sweet, a disgusting, but enchantingly alluring fragrance.
"Aren't you cold?" I asked next.
He shook his head 'no', something I truly didn't believe. This was coming from the same boy who froze his butt off so badly that in elementary school he used to cry because he didn't want to go outside into the cold.
"I can't feel anything," he told me, ceasing the blowing on his hands at this point.
"Let's go inside Specs," I coaxed him, leading him gently by the arm.
He struggled a bit before slumping after me. Behind him he dropped something.
"Specs, what is that?"
"Nothing." He picked it up and rammed it back in his pockets.
"Was that a cigarette? Mama and Dad won't like you smokin'! You'd better drop it fast before they find out."
"It's not a cigarette, you moron," he grumbled, peeved that I was bossing him around.
I stopped. "What is it?"
"It's a joint," he admitted. "Marijuana."
Now, I didn't know much about drugs, but even so, the thought of weed scared me. This explained why Specs was acting so odd lately.
"Specs, you can't be—"
He turned towards me, obviously angered. He smirked. "And you're not gonna say anything, are you Patrick? Believe me, you don't want to."
Behind the poorly disguised threat I knew he was pleading with me not to tell. It was an addiction, there was no way to stop; no way out.
==
Early March.
The fields are melting and the whole town is getting a wormy smell from all the thawing snow and ice.
Lacrosse season has started, an event Specs hasn't missed; until this year.
"Dinner time Specs!" I called up to his room.
"Alexander won't be joining us for dinner today," my father said softly from the table. "Come sit down Patrick. The food it getting cold."
I sat across from Snipeshooter, trying to ignore the empty seat beside him.
"Is Alex grounded because he didn't go out for lacrosse? Please Dad, don't be too mad at him."
He ignored me, but my mother sighed. "It's not because of lacrosse."
Snipeshooter looked up from his ham and mashed potatoes. "Specs is in trouble?" Specs never got in trouble. I argue a lot and Snipeshooter was caught stealing my father's cigar once, but Specs never got in hot water.
"In a few days Alexander will be leaving us temporarily. He'll be back in time for University next fall."
He'd been accepted to Virginia State early on a lacrosse and chemistry scholarship. Lucky, or he'd have to repeat the twelfth grade.
The next Monday, Specs left for an out-of-county rehabilitation centre. He has yet to come back.
==
Current day: late June.
People ask about Specs daily, and each time I give them the same weak alibi; he's working on school stuff, the story of his life.
I know the lie is going to change tonight. School will be out by next Sunday, what will we tell everyone then? We need to maintain the Conlon pride.
Pride is a very delicate and dangerous thing.
End Chapter((Hope you liked this chapter as much as the first one. Did I do well? Please say yes!))
Shoutouts:
Erin Go Bragh- it could be…what do you mean? It is!
Coin- half-way fics are awesome. They're such fun to write!
Jacky Higgins- this is one of the few stories I've written with a plot in mind before I started. I know how it's going to end now! That's a first, it's only chapter two!
C.M. Higgins- (almost dies of flattery) wow, I'm not anything special. Thanks for being so enthusiastic though.
Almatari-of-Arda- very good. Extra cookies for you!
Strawberri Shake- to be honest, I don't want to live in Lindale. It sounds like an innocent hell. What eleventh grader doesn't know what marijuana is? I'm in grade nine and I know what it is! I knew when I was in grade…five!
Dreamer110- I like you. You're so calm. Like the eye of a hurricane. Everyone's all 'I LOVE IT" and you just comment smoothly. Classy (wink) I like the mother's gossip too, I like to listen to people talk, it's entertaining.