Chapter 3
After several days that passed in a strange blur, Alfred was released from the hospital. Although the doctors told him to 'take it easy,' he translated this to, 'do not go to school for a few days.' With the bookstore closed that night, Matthew decided to catch up on cleaning while his brother was on the verge of throwing his gaming controller at the living room's television screen, not taking it easy.
"Booyah!" Alfred threw his hands up, but immediately doubled over and grabbed his side. "Fuck, that hurts! I totally got that round cleared like a pro."
Matthew dragged the vacuum cleaner from the hallway, and gave his brother a worried look. "Al, you shouldn't move so abruptly."
"I'm fine, bro! All healed!"
"Oh, you so are not."
"Almost healed."
"Yeah, right. You just showed me that bruise under your shirt. Besides, you wouldn't already be almost healed. Do you know how long it takes for broken bones to heal?"
"Several weeks. Believe it or not, I pay attention in school!"
"Sure, but it hasn't even been several days!"
"Dude," Alfred waved his gaming controller in the air, "you're going to have to accept that you have a totally awesome brother that can heal fast. I drink my milk."
Matthew wanted to punch that snooty look right off his face. Instead, he muttered, mostly to himself, "Miraculously fast?"
"Yeah, miraculously fast." Alfred stared at the TV screen like a dope, but snapped out of it to yell, "Wait, whoa! You're not going to do that now, are you?"
Matthew glanced over his shoulder. "It's the only thing left to do, then I'll be done."
"Can't you do that some other time? Dad's not even here."
Rising to his feet, Matthew crossed his arms. "But you still got food crumbs all over the place. Move!"
"No!"
"Yes!
Alfred put on a terrible pout. "Mattie, please? Not now?"
"That doesn't work on me."
"Please, Mattie!" Alfred repeated, clutched his waist, and slumped to the side. "I'm so sick, my ribs hurt! Ack, ack! I'm dying!"
Matthew sank his teeth into his lower lip as he turned away, trying not to laugh and let Alfred win. "Fine, I was going to go outside for a bit anyway, but when I come back, I'm going to have to do it. You know how Dad likes us to keep the place clean."
Alfred was suddenly healthy and happily tuned to shooting white birds in his game again. "Yeah, yeah! Uh, five minutes!"
Matthew made sure to slam the rear door so his brother knew that he was not getting his own way, and clutched his hoodie closer to himself from the frosty chill in the air. He took a generous inhale so the cold could hit his nose pleasantly, and wound up wandering in a small circle for a few moments before stopping to look around the narrow yard for something to do instead of letting his mind run wild. A few bare shrubs decorated one side of the fence, and on the other side of the yard, a looming tree stood as tall as the house. His head tipped as his attention jumped to the rustic shed peeking from the furthest wall of the house, and his feet carried him through the crunchy grass to the wooden door.
"I bet there's crazy stuff from our childhood in here. Or all of Dad's tools. Probably tools," Matthew babbled aloud, and struggled with the rusty latch. The hinges creaked in horror at the disturbance after being left untouched for many years. He gasped, "Our old bike!" and knelt before the rusty children's bicycle to run a finger across the dust coating the seat. "So, that's what happened to it!"
A few nuts and bolts jabbed into his knees, so he gave them a hard tug when they proved to be stuck to the paint-splattered floor. He tossed them onto the grass to remind himself to throw them away, along with the paint cans that were stacked nearby and infested with rust, most likely too old to be useful. He turned around, and his gaze followed a trail of faded spots to the other side of the shed.
"What are we really going to do with the bike though?" Matthew did not really want to throw it out, too fond of the memories associated with his father pushing him and Alfred in turn around the town. He stood up to give the shed one last sweep, and clunked his head on the crossbars that supported the roof.
Matthew hunched down again, mildly cussing and rubbing the top of his head. His eyes flickered to the wall he faced, and he stiffened. The weak rays of sunlight peeking into the cramped space illuminated a faint outline of a crudely-drawn symbol. "What the Hell is that?" He squinted at the odd scrawls surrounding the paint, but he could make out a name that was scratched into the wood.
His hand traced the old drawing, and pale crumbs of paint sprinkled the floor. "V-Van-ja? Oh, Vanya," he whispered aloud. His fingertips pressed against the marks, feeling the rough chips of wood underneath. "Vanya?"
A fierce gust of wind smacked the tiny shed, and the door creaked before slamming shut. Matthew let out an unmanly scream as he plunged into darkness, and threw himself at the door. It swung open easily. He fell forward, his foot catching onto the paint cans, and came crashing down.
Matthew picked up his head from the cold grass, and quickly threw a glance over his shoulder, seeing nothing but the wooden shack. He pushed himself to his knees, tucking honey hair behind his ears and breathlessly laughed from his overreaction.
"At least nobody saw that."
~.~
~BOING~
~.~
Several days later, toward the end of the week, a hoard of other teenagers ambushed Matthew when he went to dump out his half-empty lunch tray. He fixed his eyes on the ground, tensing as the bodies grew closer. "Excuse me," he tried to slip away, but they got in the way even more. Oh, great, he realized, Alfred's friends again.
"Hey! Why weren't you at second period today?"
"You have the wrong brother," Matthew tried to explain, but a squeaky girl barreled into him from behind and began yammering at his ear before he even turned around.
"Um, where is Alfred? He has my homework to copy, but I need that for physics class."
Matthew began, "Alfred is not here today."
"You said that yesterday, too."
"Yeah, where's our man Al at? He's been out all week!"
Matthew clenched his jaw when more bodies grew closer. "Seriously? All of you only start bothering me when my brother is not available?"
"Where is that Alfred at? He owes me money!"
"He's at home...no, he's fine..." Matthew dug at his head, asking himself why this had to happen. "He might be coming back next week, all right? You can talk to him then. What? No, I don't leave the water running when I brush my teeth! That's enough!" He lunged forward, pushing his way out of the offending and offended crowd with his eyes on the cafeteria's exists.
Not used to a hoard of people cavorting around him, and not wanting to dote on his brother after he annoyed him from Hell and back for several days, Matthew was desperate to get out of the worse of the pit before he was never seen again. Some kids still lingered, tailing after him, tapping his shoulders, but they hung back once he managed to escape.
Matthew wiped his forehead and exhaled sharply, smiling a bit at his freedom. He quickly headed to the school library, a stark contrast to the rowdy lunchroom. He felt a lingering warmth on the back of his neck, and clamped a hand over his skin, but did not dare to glance over his shoulder. He did not need the eyes of that hoard staring at him in adolescent distaste to bother and burn in his mind all day.
~.~
~BOING~
~.~
Matthew had wedged himself between two aisles in his bookstore with a big stack of new arrivals that evening. Everything was organized in the most beautiful way, and he knew he put the books in the right spot; it was so easy and relaxing. A noisy cackle reverberated across the wooden floor boards, shattering his moment. That sound could only have came from Alfred's loud mouth.
Matthew's stomach dropped to his feet as he stiffly turned around and marched to the front of the store as if the noise was his summon. His brother propped against the checkout counter, obtrusively waving that cane the hospital gave him to 'help,' but he seemed to enjoy stabbing people's feet with it instead.
Whatever he was exaggerating, it got on Lovino's - one of the only other workers - nerves. "Do you usually talk to people like that?" Alfred asked him with an obnoxious laugh. "No wonder you guys don't get much business!"
Although, lots of things got on Lovino's nerves very easily. "Alfred!" Matthew called out in slight panic.
"Huh?" Alfred turned with an overbearing smile, oblivious to the steam coming out of Lovino's ears. "Heya, Mattie! What's up? What'cha doing?"
"Working?"
"Right! So, um, I was wondering if I could pull you out of work early."
Matthew groaned, "Why? What happened? What did you do-"
"Chill out! I just got to show you something!"
"Show me something? Can't you show me now, so I can get back to work?"
Lovino glared at Matthew, or he simply stared. Sometimes, Matthew could not tell.
Alfred just laughed about the whole thing. "What, for thirty minutes? Come on, it's at home."
Matthew sighed, and gave his glasses a sharp push back up his nose just so Alfred would know he ticked him off, "Let me get this straight. You want to pull me out of work, to go home and look at something that you can't even wait a few minutes for me to get off my shift?!"
"Just go!" Lovino rolled his eyes. "We aren't getting any business tonight."
"Great!" Alfred jammed that damned cane into Matthew's foot. "It's settled! Get your apron off, Mattie! I'll wait outside!"
"Do I really want to?" Matthew asked aloud, mostly to himself. With a haste goodbye to his coworker after slipping off his attire, he breeched the cold air.
Alfred was waiting outside the front windows, bouncing with his arms tightly crossed. He immediately latched onto Matthew's jacket sleeve, and urged him on as if Matthew did not know where to go, "Got you off a half hour early! You're welcome, bro!"
"Yeah, wow, a whole half hour." Alfred snugged against Matthew's side, probably cold, but the edge to his tone died down, "So, what's the big deal?"
"Oh, just you wait! It's awesome! You're going to love it."
"Why are you whispering like that? With the way you're acting, it makes me think you brought a polar bear into the house."
Alfred better not have. "I don't wanna ruin it!"
Matthew did not know if it was the biting breeze that stiffened his legs, or the dread of Alfred's 'surprise,' but his steps started to lag, even though Alfred was the one limping on a cane. The stores turned into apartments, then into suburban houses.
Eventually, they reached the beginning of the final driveway, only to see a black cloud of smoke escaping from the ground floor of their home.
Blehps:
Matthew dragged the vacuum cleaner from the hallway, and gave his brother a worried look. "Al, you should not move so abruptly."
"I'm fine, bro!" Alfred started up a new round, glancing at Matthew kneeling down to plug in the vacuum. "Wait, whoa! You're not going to do that now, are you?"
"Bitch, I might be."