Lincoln

My life has been pretty wack since elementary school, because I was always in a different foster home. If I'm being honest, there wasn't one good one that I was in. Ever.

Life hasn't gotten any better since then. My brother "died" twice, my son almost got killed, my sister in law "died", my brother's been in three prisons because of me. I've mostly blamed myself for our sucky lives, but at what point do I draw the line on the self blame and forget the past?

It's been hard to watch Michael adjust. He seems like the weird relative at Christmas that no one knows. He knows that it's his life, but something in me tells me that he doesn't feel right here. So I've tried to act as if nothing happened at all. It's worked; it makes him forget his past a little, and the times he slips into the dark places are fewer and far between. You can tell when he starts to think too much; his eyes laser focus on something and he stares for a few seconds, then he comes back to being himself. It scares me sometimes. I don't pick up on everything like he does, but I see enough to know that he's thinking too much.

I decided to stay at his house until he comes home with Mike. I'm trying to justify my staying by telling myself that he has a bigger TV than I do, so that's why I'm allowed watch the Pats game here. I know that I'm Mike's favorite uncle (huge honor, I know) so I'm also staying to see him for a little while.

When I hear the door open when Michael and Mike come home, I sneak to the corner of the hallway which I've dubbed "Prime Scare Territory". It's the perfect spot to jump scare someone right after they come in the door, assuming they're heading to the living room or kitchen. I hear Michael's footsteps echoing in the hallway, and then Mike's slightly smaller footsteps along with the drop of a backpack. Mike turns the corner and sees me; I put a finger to my lips and pull him beside me. Michael starts to look for me, and then realizes that Mike's gone too, and walks right past me. "Boo!" Michael turns around calmly, as if he was expecting me to do that. I wish I would have noticed the Coke in his hand sooner, because by the time I see it, it's halfway into my face. "What the-" I catch myself. Sara made a deal with me; for every cuss word I say in front of Mike, I owe the kid five bucks. Talk about price gouging...

"Ha! Got you, Uncle Linc!" Mike and Michael high-five each other, laughing. It's times like these that make me happy, the times where we can laugh and celebrate for even the smallest things.

"Guess what! We have a field trip tomorrow, and dad's coming!" Mike is smiling down much as he says this that I'm afraid his face is going to fall off. "Am I allowed to come?" I ask, because what's more fun than a field trip with your brother and nephew? "Why not, Uncle Linc! Sure!" I give him a big hug and get ready to go.

Vee's on a business trip this week, so I'm at home by myself for a while. LJ said that he was going to come over this weekend, to see the family and stuff like that. I'm pretty sure that Michael was giving him money, because every time he would come over for like a span of a year or two, LJ would always say something like, "Thanks, Uncle Mike, it really helps." Jeez, Michael.

On the way home I crank the volume way up in the Mustang. I only take the backroads to get home, so I guess it doesn't really matter. It's been a long time since I just left the top down and let the loud music blast.

When I get home, I literally collapse on the couch to start a Netflix series. It's only four now, so I decide against dinner because I'm too lazy to get up. I'll have the leftover chicken nuggets later.

I've been watching TV for three hours and I'm getting sick of it. So what if Vee wants me to finish Stranger Things? I can't stand it. I decide to grab the chicken nuggets and go to bed. Who cares if it's only seven?

I'm still ignorant. I knew that there was no way that I was going to be able to fall asleep at seven o'clock. Why is it that since Michael came back, I can't ever sleep? I have this sickening feeling in my gut that someone's watching, someone's there to get me. It's a bad feeling, feeling like you have a bright red target pinned to your back with a scope laser-focused on the bullseye. I've been awake for three hours and it's now ten o'clock; now I've figured out that I'm not going to fall asleep for a very long time. So I decide to go get a cup of coffee and prepare myself for a long night.

I'm zombified.

It's 3 am and I'm still awake. In middle school or high school this would be something to be proud of, but now, it's just disappointing. I'm looking in the medicine cabinet for something to help when something catches my eye. Thank God for melatonin!

I set my alarm for 7:00 before I fell asleep on the couch last night. Michael will be here at 7:30 (we all know he can't be late) so we can get to Mike's school by 8. I've decided against formality; jeans and a t-shirt will be fine.

I'm actually waiting for Michael to get here, which surprises me. It's really rare that I'm ahead of his schedule unless I'm excited, but I guess I am fairly excited for today. My first field trip with my nephew. But as if on a timer, Michael pulls into my driveway at 7:30 sharp. Not a second late. I jog out the front door to sit beside him in the front seat and say hi to Mike. Michael looks back toward Mike and reminds me so much of his old self that I have an odd memory that surfaces.

Flashback

I'm sitting with Michael inside the old warehouse that we lived in in the Scylla debacle. Michael looks nervous, turning something over in his hands relentlessly. "Are you okay?" I ask, because something looks and seems really wrong. He never acts like this, ever. "I need to ask you something," he replies, his skin paling ever so slightly in sheer nervousness. "Sure, anything," I say in an understanding but slightly concerned tone. Since we're alone, I'm pretty confident that he's going to tell me something instead of dropping hints and clues over a long time about what he's getting at. "When Lisa was pregnant with LJ, did she act differently before she told you?" I'm doing a mental double take without showing it. That's not the question I expected. "I mean, no, not that I noticed. But I'm not your guy to notice things," I say, trying to lighten the mood of the conversation. His bright blue eyes darken in concentration and thought, and he stares at the industrial size doors that serve as the entrance to the warehouse. "It's just... I have my suspicions about Sara being... you get what I'm saying. I just don't think I should bring it up or interject it into a conversation. What do you think?" I scrutinize my brain for any big-brotherly advice that I could give Michael right now, but my brain is as empty as this warehouse. It's a difficult question that there aren't any advice books for. I could use one right now.

Michael's puzzled and confused me so many times before, but now that he's relying on me for an answer to a problem, there's a lot more pressure for me to fight the confusion and figure out something legible to say. "If you're sure- Wait. What makes you think that she's pregnant?" I think this is a simple question to start with, but of course Michael has to give me an answer with way more complexity than the question itself had. "Well, before, she would sleep on her side. She would always mention how she could never sleep on her back and how it was uncomfortable, but then one night, she started sleeping on her back. She's been doing it for a few nights now, and I know she's doing it consciously because she lays like that even if she's still awake. The way she sits is more guarded, like she's trying to protect something in her stomach," he explains, leaving me in awe of how much he can notice about a single human being in a matter of just a few days. "Michael, whatever you decide to do will be just fine. Just... make sure you don't come at the topic with too much aggression, okay?" I smile, letting him know that I'm joking about the aggression.

End Flashback

That's one of the few normal conversations that we've had as brothers. Sure, the setting wasn't ideal, but it was a good conversation.

He starts driving to Mike's elementary school, and I start a conversation that can include all three of us. "So, are you excited for your field trip?" Mike looks in the rear view mirror and nods his head so vigorously that I'm afraid it's going to come off. I live only five minutes from his school, so we're there pretty quickly. We pull up in Michael's Tesla (which, if I'm being honest, would love to take out on a midnight drive).

When we walk into the elementary school, my social anxiety skyrockets. There are people literally everywhere, making it barely possible to breathe. Michael and Mike know where the classroom is, so I follow them like a new puppy. We have to stand by Mike's desk for a few minutes while everyone gets here, and by the time half the kids are here, the room is absolutely crammed to the brim. I don't know how an ant could walk half an inch in here.

It's just now that I'm conscious of how slim my jeans are. I threw in the first pair I found in my drawer and I'm realizing that they're the slim ones that Vee bought me for Christmas. They feel a little tighter than a normal pair of jeans, and I notice it until I notice Michael's are the same way. That makes me relax a little.

Today is ninety-five degrees, so there's no way I would even wear a long sleeved shirt. But Michael, he surprises me. He's wearing a t-shirt. "You surprise me, Mike," I tell him. Mike's playing with his friends in a corner of the room, seemingly having fun. "Why? Is it so unlikely that I wear Nikes?" He knows that I'm getting at the t-shirt, which is why he's being so sarcastic.

I suddenly get the odd feeling that someone is staring at me. I turn inconspicuously sideways. (Wait. How do I know how to use "inconspicuously"? I spent too much time around Michael in high school while we studied. No; he studied, I ate Doritos and got nacho cheese dust all over his homework. That's how it went.)

A group of the moms are staring at us and whispering, which makes me want to walk over there and say something. Michael knows it. He punches me on the arm and gives me a playful look that says, "Don't be dumb". I turn around and pretend that I never noticed the moms. Moms kinda weird me out. But hey. When a mom looks at you, they probably think you're hot. I don't need a mom to look at me to tell me that I'm hot. I already know it good and well.

A few minutes later, Mike's teacher walks in to direct us to the buses and stuff. Fantastic. I hate buses.

I don't see how anyone could like buses. Like, they're yellow, they're loud, and they stink.

Stupid, idiotic, yellow buses.

I hate yellow.

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I don't know how good this chapter is, but I had some comments before the next update.

The app is being difficult and I don't know if it actually changed the title and summary, because it shows in some places that it changed but in others it's still the old title and summary. In case it didn't change, I've changed the plot a little bit, there are some elements of Company, some things from the past. They're not on the run or anything like that.