Gordon is bored. He has never liked being home alone, and now it seems like that is all he ever is. Alone. Growing up in a house full of noisy brothers, an overbearing father, and a caring a sensitive mother, Gordon is used to noise and activity.
But Scott is in the air force now, John is down in Houston working for Nasa - having graduated from Harvard in 2 years and not the standard 4, Virgil is in Denver doing his final year at the School of Advanced Technology, where he is studying engineering, Alan is in his final year of high school. His mom offered to take him food shopping, but he turned the offer down, telling himself that he is an adult and does not need a babysitter. As for the whereabouts of his father, he doesn't know, and he doesn't care.
His own academic success was non-existent, years of swimming training taking their toll on his enthusiasm for studying anything not related to his chosen passion. 6 days a week he would be up at 4:30, cycling the 5 miles to the local pool, even in the long winter months when it would still be dark when he left the house. His coach, Mr Brown was a harsh and cruel master, one who demanded commitment and perfection in equal measures, one who didn't accept excuses for failure, but one who pushed him into doing everything he can to reach his goals. Sometimes he was more of a father to him than the great Jeff Tracy, and he was the first one mentioned in Gordons speech when he won his gold medal at the Olympics in 2060. His father was an after-thought for the fiercely independent 17-year-old.
The stubborn redhead hated school, being stuck indoors 5 days a week, forced to concentrate on algebra, history, and the correct way to spell things was his idea of hell. His grades reflected his application to his studies, always just doing the bare minimum to avoid failing and no more.
College was never in his plans, something that he clashed with his father with, their arguments rattling the walls of his office at the presentation of every one of his report cards. The comments all the same, "If he would just concentrate his grades would improve dramatically" – his maths teacher, or "Gordons attitude needs a serious adjustment, there was no need to put frogs in my draw" – his English teacher, or his own personal demon "we had such high expectations following the success of his brothers" – everyone who had taught Scott, Virgil and John. The near constant comparisons to his brothers made his heart ache for freedom from their stifling oppression.
He had been suspended a half dozen times for pulling pranks on his teachers, acting out in class due to the boredom of the institutionalised setting. Angry and volatile, he would lash out at anyone who looked at him the wrong way. It was always the same procedure, his mom would collect him after a fight, confine him to his room and then his dad would give him a beating, not once did anyone take the time to ask him how he felt. He just got the looks of disappointment followed by the pain.
This is why he finds himself alone on a Friday morning in early January. Looking out of the window it is grey and dreary, light snow has been falling for most of the day. Wishing he had agreed to go shopping, he wanders through the upstairs hallway, looking at the closed highly decorated doors on either side.
Scott's room, even though he has been gone for 6 years, first to Yale, and too Oxford and finally the US Air force. His eldest brother, Mr Perfect himself, his fathers' favourite. Perfect Scott with his perfect grades. The great Jeff Tracy tells him to jump Scott jumps without questioning it. Even his door is perfect, a plain wooden plank concealing the neat space behind. Opening the door, he looks in at the room of the brother he has always struggled to connect with. The room is faultlessly perfect, just like its owner. It is clinical, with not even a speck of dust thanks to his moms meticulous cleaning regime. Disgusted, he closes the door and moves on.
Virgils room is a work of art, one wall dedicated solely to a history of modern aircraft mural, which he remembers Virgil taking most of his 13th summer to paint. Spending hours alone, shut off from his family. He has never understood why he didn't decide to study art in Paris, the one thing he always said he wanted to do when he grew up. Virgil was the one who looked after him when he was recovering from his fathers "discipline", the one who got him to the hospital in time after the broken rib pierced his lung and left him fighting for his life. But he's gone, and the time they spend apart causes them to drift further away from each other.
Johns room is a shrine to space, constellations painted on the ceiling, a giant poster of the solar system pasted on the wall above his bed, his dads old NASA T-shirt in a frame over the desk. Scott may be his father's mini-me, but John is his biggest fan, his directly older brother worships their father and wants so badly to follow in his footsteps to the exclusion of all others. He has even less in common with John than he does with Scott, and no respect for him either. John has never hinted that he has a mind of his own. Secretly nicknaming the pair his fathers clones, he is determined to not be like them, he is going to live his own life.
Ignoring the large "KEEP OUT" sign on his youngest brothers' door, he opens it up to a mess. Rebellious and wild, Alan is a lot of fun to be with, easily led into trouble the pair spent many a weekend pulling pranks on their siblings and parents, and even more time cleaning the garage, or the attic or the barn as punishment for said prank. Only 13 months his junior, he has always been closest to Alan. Smiling fondly at the memories, the one reason he has any happy memories of his childhood at the farm where he grew up.
He allows himself one final smile as he quietly closes the door, the memory of how it got the giant dent still makes him chuckle. In hindsight roller blading in the house was never a smart idea, but the door was the only thing that got hurt, and Alans ass when his dad caught hold of him! His dad's refusal to have the door fixed to "remind Alan of his stupidity" had the opposite effect on both himself and Alan who see the damage as a badge of honour!
Still laughing, he goes back to his own room and opens up his laptop. Alone time is the perfect time to work on his secret project.
The personal statement to go with his application to join the World Aquanaut Security Patrol is almost ready to send off with the previously filled application. Since before he could walk he has been obsessed with the water, the reason he got up at 4:30 in the morning, the reason he fought so hard to stay on the swim team despite the threats from his father that he would be pulled and sent to a boarding school for wayward teens – luckily his mom talked him down from that threat – and more importantly the reason he has been secretly studying oceanography in his spare time.
No longer bored as he looks at the designs for a new bathyscape, being tested with the idea of being used for a year long project below the sea to study marine farming methods, a look of longing on his face. This is the only thing he wants to do with his life and joining W.A.S.P would give him this opportunity.
*TB*
"Gordon?" a female voice calls up the stairs, breaking his concentration from the marine biology textbook he had smuggled in from the library.
"Coming" He calls back, expecting a lecture from his mom for daring to waste his entire morning, doing nothing. He can not tell her what he is up to, she will tell his father and that will end his plans, as he will then be forced to apply to college to study the exact same curriculum he has set himself.
"There you are, get the bags from the car and then help put the groceries away." His mom demands, with a softer tone than his father uses when speaking to him, but the order is there, and he is smart enough to not argue. He knows his mom is just as disappointed with having him as a son than his father is, he was the family runt. The premature baby that should never have survived, they had Alan as a replacement baby when they realised that he was never going to amount anything.
There is no please or thank you, he is just expected to blindly follow their orders, and like a coward he does just that before escaping back to the sanctuary of his room.
*TB*
"He spent the whole day in his room Jeff, only came out when I got home to help put the groceries away. I don't know what he is doing up there, but I doubt it is productive" his mom tells his dad.
He is sitting at the dinner table, opposite Alan as his parents discuss their own days, feeling like he might as well be invisible, as they happily talk about him.
"I am here you know" He tells them sullenly. "Maybe if you had just asked how I spent my day I would tell you"
"Don't take that tone with me boy" His dad replies, ignoring his words, and not looking up from his food long enough to look him in the eyes.
"I am 18 years old, stop treating me like a 5-year-old" He snarls back, his father never sees him, and he can't do this anymore, the W.A.S.P application is the only reason he is still here, and he hasn't thought ahead to what he is going to do if he is rejected.
Jeffs hackles are raised, and he can't help but snap back "Then act like a bloody adult and take some responsibility for your life and then maybe you will treated like one. Go to your room Gordon, until you can sit quietly and be polite at the dinner table you are not allowed to eat with the family"
Picking up the burger from his plate, Gordon only stops to glare at his parents before leaving the room. He will show them, he will show all of them. A grim determination on his face as he slams the door shut behind him.
"DON'T SLAM THE DOOR!" His father yells up the stairs after him.
An evil grin briefly crosses his face as he opens the door to slam it shut a second time. A small victory is all he can ever hope for as he hears his father's footsteps on the stairs before he crashes into his room.
His face is apoplectic with rage.
"Hi dad" He tells him cheekily, sitting on the bed his legs swinging back and forth as he grins up at him.
"I have had enough of your attitude and behaviour, why you can't be more like Scott I will never know, but I am done Gordon. Pack your bags because you are leaving in the morning, I don't care where you go, but you are not staying here" Jeff tells him.
"You are throwing me out?" He asks in shock, never did he expect this, his father usually yells at him then leaves him alone. His father hadn't punished him properly in about 18 months, he always favoured a thick leather belt, which is still hanging up on his door. Shuddering at the memories of being made to fetch it before his father would snap it across his bare skin, maybe leaving home isn't such a bad idea.
Jeff nods, still furious. "I can't do this anymore Gordon, I will give you your allowance as usual until you find a job but apart from that we are done"
"Okay fine, but I won't be back, you will never see me again father." He insists.
And then he is gone, closing the door behind him leaving Gordon to get on with his packing, vowing to not give in, the boy is going to learn the hard way to appreciate his family.
*TB*
"Don't leave" Alan is begging.
His mom and dad have long since retired for the evening and the 2 boys are the only signs on life in the house as the darkness engulfs them. They are lying side by side on his bed, after Alan snuck in once he was sure their parents were asleep.
"I have to Allie; I can't stay here. I feel like I am drowning in his shadow, I will never be the son he wants me to be. I will keep in touch, but I have to go." He tries to explain, but Alan doesn't get it. He has seen 3 of his brothers leave and he doesn't want to lose the final link to his childhood. Gordon was the only brother he never had to beg for attention, even if he would arrive home exhausted from training he would always have a happy smile for his baby brother.
"Can we at least do one last thing together?" Alan asks. Pleading with him.
"Sure, come on I have an idea!" his eyes lighting up, unseen in the dead of the night.
"Why are we going outside? Gordy it is freezing out there" Alan tells him, shivering, as they look up at the night sky. There is not a cloud in sight, and the stars are shimmering brightly above their heads, causing the fresh snow to glisten in the light reflecting from both the stars and the moon. It is beautiful here, and he will miss the only home he has ever known but he has to get out while he has the opportunity, and this is his only chance.
Gordon grins at him, before revealing the box of fireworks left over from his dads annual New Year's Eve party.
Alans eyes widen in surprise. "Do you even know how to light fireworks without getting hurt?"
"Sure, this isn't the first time I have snuck them out of the house Al, and I have never been caught. Stand back and I will light the first one" Gordon tells him laughing.
Filled with trepidation Alan does as he is told and steps back to watch.
Light from the first match flickers suddenly against the dark background of the night sky, before the touch paper ignites and the firework flies up into the air and explodes into a shower of colourful sparks.
"Wow" Alan breathes in wonder as the sparks fade into the blackness. "Do another one Gords"
Gordon has the next match lit and held to the touch paper when a shout from behind startles him.
"GORDON COOPER TRACY!"
Shit it's dad! Alan thinks.
The brief loss of concentration causes him to drop the lit firework, which fires into the sky at an angle and straight onto the roof of the barn, which instantly ignites into flames.