Ryan rolled his shoulders and stood tall to stretch his back. He was a general 'helper' so his tasks varied greatly from day to day. Every time his muscles got used to one job he was onto the next. He never thought he'd work his way through Kristen's tall stack of white shirts, but they were already a little tight and if he kept this up much longer he'd grow out of them soon.
It was 10am, they had already been working for hours to get a jump on the unusually warm September temperatures. He debated lighting up but took a drink of water from his jug instead. Break would be over soon. He was hot and tired. Sometimes work sucked, and now was one of those times.
He watched a familiar car drive into the lot, kicking up dust. He had sprayed the temporary roadway down with water earlier, but the soil on this site was so fine any breeze or movement blew it up again. Kirsten got out of the car and slowly scanned across the lot. Ryan flattened out against a partially built wall to stay out of her view. When he peered around, Kirsten was walking carefully past construction debris toward the trailer with a blueprint tube in her hand.
Ryan would have loved to look over the blueprints. The foreman had given the crew an overview of the job. They were building a six storied office building for a national banking chain. Ryan had picked up more construction details from the different trades he worked with but a few things like the overbuilt wall in the center of the building didn't make sense to him. Why did the one wall need so much more support than the others? Ryan sighed and got back to building the scaffolding for the masons; blueprints were a long way off in his future, if they were there at all.
Leaving the Cohens had been hard. They had tried everything: cajoling and bribery, anger and threats, tears and guilt. He had done his best to explain but his words only brought on a new cascade of arguments. To stay firm, he had avoided their eyes, which held so much sadness and regret. If he had had to look at them much longer, he would have caved in and done anything to make them happy again. His only concession had been that he would stay in touch on his cell. It helped that he had planned ahead, an old Chevy Nova, a crappy studio apartment by the freeway in Chino and he was gone. He had never been happier to have last summer's construction job savings.
Two stories of scaffolding later, somebody hollered to him to report to the trailer. The guys stopped work, openly curious. He hadn't told anyone about his connection to the Cohens, but there were rumors. Word would definitely get around after today.
"Ryan," Kirsten said happily. She had walked so fast she met him halfway to the trailer. Juan, the foreman, accompanied her. Ryan had put off seeing any of the Cohens with vague talk of moving to Austin since he had moved out two month ago, but the threat didn't seem to be working anymore. Kirsten and Sandy, and even Seth had begun to call more frequently right before college classes started. They couldn't believe he would pass up the opportunity. To Ryan it proved how little they knew him.
"I'm real dirty," Ryan said backing up from her attempt at an embrace and glancing around to see who might be watching them. The masons were on the other side of the wall, but a few workers were purposely lingering nearby. It was hard enough being the new kid.
"Okay, but I've missed you so much it's killing me not to squeeze some sense into you to come home or go to Berkley with Seth," she said hopefully then adding, "Sorry-sorry, I promised I wouldn't push. How are you?"
They took each other in. Kirsten seemed healthier, and was still the consummate stylish professional in attractive tan slacks and a lacy top. Ryan was dripping with sweat, and his shirt and jeans were streaked with the red clay he had been digging up for footers earlier.
"I'm real good," Ryan answered ignoring her other comments. The Cohens were nothing if not persistent about letting him know he was still welcome. "Thanks again for helping me with this job. My own plans didn't pan out as well." Actually he had been bluffing a little. There was a job, but only a minimum wage job as a gas station clerk. Even with this better paying job the budget was tight, but his resolve to wean himself from the Cohens was still strong. It was for their own good, he reminded himself.
"You're welcome. We hate having you so far away but we'll always look out for you. Now you have to do me the favor of dinner next week Friday. Seth is back from college for the first time. He'd love to see you. We all would." Ryan jerked his head ambiguously. He should have cut off all ties to make it easier on everybody. If he had any balls, he'd be in Austin for real this time. But his phone number contact in Austin was disconnected, and a construction job for a guy with only one legitimate summer of experience was hard to come by. Also, and he hated to admit this even to himself, the idea that someone would notice if he fell off the face of the earth was nice.
"I dunno, concrete is being laid next week so that means late nights," he murmured, "but next time he comes back, I promise," Ryan said looking into the distance. These excuses came off easier over the phone.
Juan who had been pretending to not be listening now interjected, "I'll see you get time off, Atwood. Just let me know what day, Mrs. Cohen." Ryan checked his frown; he couldn't afford to piss off the foreman.
Kirsten beamed and leaned in to whisper conspiratorially but her hardhat bumped Ryan's forehead. "I was going to say it's nice to be boss, but now I'm going to ask shouldn't you be wearing a hardhat, Ryan?"
"I am," Ryan sputtered, "or I was, but I laid it down when I headed over to the trailer."
"Mrs. Cohen we haven't had an accident or a violation on this job yet. I'll see it gets glued to his head." Juan glared at Ryan. Then he whistled shrilly to get the attention of the nearby men, knocked on his own helmet, and pointed at Ryan's head.
Flaco, a carpenter's helper who had worked with Ryan many times, ambled over and handed Ryan a hardhat with "Chino" painted on the back. They all had nicknames. "We'll take good care of su hijo," he said to Kirsten slyly.
Ryan glowered as Flaco left with a wide grin. "Friday, Ryan?" Kirsten asked bring his attention back to her.
"My car's acting up," Ryan began lamely.
"More motherly visits could be fit into my schedule, mi hijo," Kirsten said studying his face with concern. She pulled a handkerchief out and tried to wipe an imagined smudge off his cheek. With horror he pulled away to an outburst of laughter from his co-workers.
He flushed deeply and mumbled, "I'll try my best."
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The aforementioned Friday a week later, Ryan thought he was off the hook. His car was really in the shop, and he had already called to tell Sandy so. Sandy had been disappointed, and had taken the opportunity to repeat his one theme that he had boiled down to let us back in, kid. He ended most calls on that note.
But when Ryan clocked off and left the trailer he saw Seth in the SUV pulling into a parking spot. Seth got out and looked over the scene like a baby chick just out of its shell. It was late and the site deserted, only Ryan had stayed late to help Juan who was still in the trailer. There was not much to see but Seth's eagerness was unabashed; he was heading toward the partially built bank. Ryan didn't know why exactly but Seth's childish curiosity pissed him off. Didn't he realize the world was dangerous, that he had to be careful of the deep ditch just dug for the utility lines? Ryan couldn't always be around. Ryan sighed in annoyance.
Seth walked back to him and blinked a few times. "I thought I missed you and was just going to take a look around. Well, your posse of one has arrived. The folks want me to ferry you home for dinner. No strings attached, just free food." Seth's nonchalance belied his hopefulness and for a moment Ryan wanted to give in.
He steeled himself instead and shook his head no. "Don't college boys have anything better to read?" Ryan asked nodding at the comics and textbooks sitting in the back seat of the car.
"It's still me, Ryan, after a life of booze, crazy honeys… you could visit me on campus if you want. Meet my crew… well, if there was one."
Ryan remained stoic. It might start off innocently enough but the next thing he knew he'd be taking Seth to a frat party and somehow or other someone would get hurt. Hell, tea and crumpets would turn into a shoot out.
"You're gonna have to knock off this act sooner or later. We're not giving up. Mom and Dad worry about you all the time. I know they call you every week."
"How do you know?"
"They call me every week."
"Big college guy? Crazy honeys, huh?" Ryan asked with scorn. If he could only get Seth to not look up at him with such eager eyes…
"Yeah, well, I toss them a bone for paying the rent on time. Look, Berkley is big. I know you were accepted, too, and you'd love it. You can find whatever you want there. It might be full of water polo playing goons, too, but we have plenty of space in the sandbox to all play nice. There are really cool people. We talk all night about Taoist philosophy, whether Donald Duck is a capitalist propaganda tool, where the sweetest honeys hang, and oh, oh, the level of graphic novel expertise is out of this world… Ryan, this," Seth said opening his arms to the surroundings, "was a great blue collar experiment but I miss you, dude. Tell me what to do to make it right."
Ryan only tensed and his eyes hardened. "College is philosophy, babes in mini-skirts, and harmless nerds because I'm not there. Don't you get it? If I were there it would be all about O.D.ing on pills, gunshots fired, and fistfights to the death."
"That again? It's not you, dude. You can't get me hurt; I'm The Ironist."
Ryan frowned doubtfully at Seth's assertion and said, "I can't go back to your house; my car is shot."
"Our house, buddy," Seth corrected, "I'll bring you back." Seth's eyebrows furrowed, pleading.
It was tempting but Ryan believed what he had said about people around him getting hurt. He had to make Seth turn away from him. Ryan grimaced and turned his back on Seth, walking away without a word. Seth jumped on Ryan's back in a clumsy attack. Startled Ryan stumbled forward a few steps with Seth pounding his back. Ryan twisted to throw Seth off in a fluid, easy motion.
Seth fell to the ground, but jumped back up, fists drawn, and tried to punch Ryan with a quick jab in the face.
"What the hell are you doing?" Ryan yelled as he dodged safely aside.
"I'm proving you would never hurt me no matter what."
Stunned, Ryan didn't move as Seth hit him in the mouth. Seth stared as Ryan wiped blood off a lip with the back of his hand. Ryan's eyes, which never left Seth's face, turned cold.
Seth took a small step back and spoke in a fast wavering voice, "I'm sorry I had to do that, man. You'd never hurt me or any of us, can you see that now?"
"You get a free one. Tell Sandy and Kirsten I'm sorry."
Seth replied with another fist aimed at Ryan's middle. Ryan took a step back and it landed with a harmless force. He pulled Seth closer, yanking him by his shirt collar. "Is this what you meant to do?" Ryan punched Seth twice in the stomach. "Throw some body weight into it next time," Ryan said harshly. Seth gasped and clutched his middle, falling onto the red clay.
"I'm not playing, Seth." Ryan pressed a knee against Seth's chest until Seth winced and nodded. Ryan walked away without a backward glance.
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Author's Note: Thanks to the great beta-que-tionist, FredSmith, for grammar and plot line pointers.