Middle Child Syndrome…Though not the Middle Child
Jay stood back, watching the mayhem that always followed the return of his older brother and sister. His frown deepened as the two oldest Guthrie kids disappeared under a mound of smaller bodies. Jealousy writhed below his surface façade of indifference…it was always like this when they came home.
Why is it always like this? he fumed silently. They aren't here most of the time. I'm the one that takes care of things around here…but as soon as they come home I get tossed aside like yesterday's leftover spinach. He watched silently, staying out of the reunion as everyone else laughed and joked, played and wrestled. It didn't matter, they would be gone in a week and things would be back to normal. He'd still be in the background and taken for granted…but he wouldn't have to listen to how great THEY were.
As the sun sank lower in the sky, and the festivities showed no sign of letting up, Jay sighed. They wouldn't even notice he was gone. He left without saying a word, and went to the chores he was supposed to share with the younger kids.
He milked the cow, fed the chickens and geese, gave the pigs their slop, and the goats their alfalfa. He cleaned the horse stalls and gave them their oats and hay. Finally Jay closed himself in the tack room, the chores done for the night, and picked up his guitar. Briefly he wondered how long it would take for them to notice he wasn't there, probably until after dinner when he wasn't there to do the dishes, he decided as he tuned his favored instrument.
He strummed the guitar and a smile came to his lips, music could make the world better if people would only let it…at least that was what he had believed ever since he was about eight. He played a few bars, humming along until he got into the rhythm then he started to sing.
I'm the little boy with glasses
The one they call a geek
A little girl who never smiles
'cause I've got braces on my teeth
And I know how it feels
To cry myself to sleep
I'm that kid on every play ground
Who's always chosen last
A single teenage mother
Tryin' to overcome my past
You don't have to be my friend
But is it too much to ask
He paused to play a couple of dramatic chords to lead into the chorus then jumped back into the song, singing, as always, with his heart and soul in the song.
Don't laugh at me
Don't call me names
Don't get your pleasure from my pain
In God's eyes we're all the same
Some day we'll all have perfect wings
Don't laugh at me.
He stopped long enough to take off the shirt he'd been wearing all day, confidant that none would be coming to check on him, and relaxed the wings he hid even from his family. He picked the guitar back up and played another bridge before he went into the next set of verses, all sang in his perfect voice with his eyes closed.
I'm the cripple on the corner
You've passed me on the street
And I wouldn't be out her beggin'
If I had enough to eat
And don't think I don't notice
That our eyes never meet
I lost my wife and little boy when
Someone crossed that yellow line
The day we laid them in the ground
Is the day I lost my mind
And right now I'm down to holdin'
This little cardboard sigh…so
Don't laugh at me
Don't call me names
Don't get your pleasure from my pain
In God's eyes we're all the same
Some day we'll all have perfect wings
Don't laugh at me.
I'm fat, I'm thin, I'm short, I'm tall
I'm deaf, I'm blind, hey aren't we all
Don't laugh at me
Don't call me names
Don't get your pleasure from my pain
In God's eyes we're all the same
Some day we'll all have perfect wings
Don't laugh at me.
At the end of the last instrumental bridge he heard a soft knock on the door and struggled to put his shirt back on quickly, expecting the door to be thrown open at any moment. Must be Sam or Paige, he thought when a second knock followed the first rather than the door simply being thrown open. Well that's one good thing come from them going away. The thought was bitter. They learned a thing or two about privacy. His shirt back in place, he opened the door to find, not just Sam and Paige, but all the little ones as well on the other side.
"Josh," Paige said quietly, her eyes misted over slightly, "that was beautiful. Where did it come from?"
Jay shrugged. "It's just something I put together in my spare time," he muttered. "Nothing big. Besides, 's not like it can hold a candle to what you do."
"What are you talking about?" Sam asked picking up on the bitter edge in his younger brother voice. "Josh, that was amazing! None of us has ever done anything like that before!"
"Oh yeah." Jay couldn't hold the words back. "It's so cool…I sing pretty little songs…" He rolled his eyes. "You fly and hurtle through things and walk away without a scratch. Paige," he jerked his head at his older sister, "can make her skin into pretty much anything she wants, even if it is a bit gross to see her shed the old one. Not to mention you play hero on like a daily basis…oh yeah…my little tunes REALLY measure up." He was practically screaming in the end, and only shut-up because the twins were cowering behind Sam and he could see the fear in their eyes.
Ah hell, he thought, now look what I've done. He went down on one knee and held his arms wide. The twins ran to him and hid their faces in his shirt. He smoothed their hair and murmured nonsense things to them trying to get them to calm down.
"So you don't fight villains on the weekends," Paige said quietly resting a hand on Jay's shoulder. "But you write songs that touch people, and look at what you do with the kids? Josh, you may not do the same things as Sam and I…but in a way I think they mean MORE than what we do."
Jay looked from one of his little siblings to the other, looking at all of them in turn before he finally smiled up at Paige. "You know…I think you're right." He decided then that his wings had to stay hidden, no matter how uncomfortable hiding them was. If he told anyone about them then he'd get shipped off to Xavier's as well…and leave the little ones alone. So he wouldn't tell anyone…at least no one but the guys…his band knew everything about him.
Author's Note: The song actually is property of Mark Wills, but I borrowed it for this because I'm none to good at writing things like that and it just seemed fitting…. but maybe that's just me.