Chapter 6: Past to Present

The smell of morning coffee filled the air, which neither Gavin nor his two older brothers cared for, yet woke up almost instantly as if they were conditioned dogs. Their stomachs all growled and they gathered around the table like vultures for breakfast when their mother called for them. They were not allowed to eat if they weren't ready for school yet. This rule had come about when Grant and Graham would try to say they didn't feel well after eating breakfast simply to skip school and go back to bed. Leah liked to believe that her cooking was so good it was the only incentive that kept them in line.

They were in grade school between the ages of six and eight. Grant was the oldest and Gavin the youngest. These two often fought the most. Leah always tried to keep her boys under control, but they loved to wrestle and play fight. She often had to separate them when things went too far and enjoyed it when they left for school so that she could restore the house in peace. Often, they left her mud pies on the counter, brought in worms for fishing with their father which they kept in the refrigerator in a mason jar filled with dirt, left toy trucks on the table, and their grass-stained clothes on their bedroom floor. Regardless, Leah picked up after them with love and pride, her three darling little boys.

By the end of the school day, Leah was excited when the bus came to put an end to the silence in their absence. She loved to hear about their stories and accomplishments. They shared with her their homework assignments, good grades, and stories. They talked about their new favorite animals that they learned about in science class, such as sharks that they discovered were actually fish and not mammals. Leah loved how they mispronounced certain things and she didn't bother to correct them when they said, "amminals". This they all discussed at the dining room table as she prepared dinner.

"Gavin," his mother directed him. "How was school for you today?" she asked him kindly. She had gone in a circle asking each of her children about their day. She enjoyed basking in their youth and fretted about how quickly they grew.

He shrugged and Graham answered for him. "He got pushed down today at recess."

"Aw, sweetheart is someone bullying you?" his mother turned away from the stove and put a hand on her hip. Her black hair was pulled back into a bun. She wore an apron and had a special utensil meant for stirring pasta in her right hand. When Gavin refused to reply she said, "Boys, tell me what you know."

Graham and Grant were quiet and looked down at their hands which they picked at. It was a nervous habit they had adapted. "Boys, look at me." Leah told them sternly, to which they complied. She knew very well that they played together at recess so she asked, "Well, what did you do about your little brother getting picked on?"

"Nothing," Grant admitted.

"We laughed," the other said. Grant snapped his head to the side and kicked his brother under the table. The boy jumped and made a face. All three of them looked almost identical despite their age, and their names made them even more difficult to tell apart. The main thing that kept them separate was their personalities. Grant was very social, outgoing, and dominating. Gavin was withdrawn and shy, while Graham was a mixture of the two.

"Shame on you!" she admonished, shaking the toothed spoon at them. She came to sit beside Gavin, running her fingers through his short black hair which was soft to the touch. "Do you want me to go talk to the principal?" she asked. "Who is it?"

"No," he said shoving her hands away. He wore bib overalls and a short-sleeve, plaid button-up.

"It was the new girl," Graham replied to his mother for him.

"Oh," his mother's tone changed. She then removed her hand from his hair and went back to the stove with a smile. After moments of silence she said, "I think someone has a crush on you."

Instantly, the other two boys cracked up into laughter. Gavin put his head in his hands in embarrassment. "Stop it!" he shouted at them. He didn't find it funny because he didn't feel that their statement was true.

When at last supper was ready, Mike waltzed into the house, greeting Leah with a kiss. He wore his typical work boots as well as a pair of dirty jeans and t-shirt. His hands were blackened from oil and he smelt of diesel fuel. He then went to the bathroom to clean himself up and shortly after that he called for Gavin. Gavin excused himself from the table and went to see why his father called him. "What did we talk about yesterday?" he asked, drying his hands on a wash cloth.

Gavin glanced at the toilet seat and then back at his father. "To put the seat up," he said timidly.

"Yes, and what happens if you make a mess?"

"Clean it up," Gavin replied and crumpled up a piece of toilet paper. He then proceeded to wipe the seat clean. After that he threw the used paper in the trashcan and raised the seat.

"Son, you put the seat back down when you're done," his father reminded him.

"But why?" Gavin asked.

"We don't want your mother to fall in." Mike explained to him.

"But why?" Gavin asked again.

"Well…" he looked up at Leah who came to stand in the door with a smile on her face. She always seemed to save him in awkward situations. "We'll talk about it later; your mother is getting impatient with us." Gavin put the seat back down and then washed his hands in the sink.

"How's the aim getting?" she asked Mike discretely once their son had left the room.

"He's improving," he said.

Mike took his place at the head of the table and just as he sat, Gavin went to take a bite of his food. "Hey! You know better," he said in a deep voice. Gavin put the fork down and then bowed his head for prayer with the rest of the family. Mike went on to lead the prayer by thanking God for the day, the food, and they prayed for the ones they loved. When they had finished, they all ate ravenously. Leah sat at the opposite end of the table and listened to the rather male dominated subjects with a smile as the boys talked about cars, tractors, and semis with their father.

After a while Mike realized Gavin was quieter than usual. Instead of prodding at a subject he believed was already sore, he left it alone. Boys got over things easily if it wasn't made into a big deal. Besides, he was sure Leah would explain it to him later.

Their mother then prayed with them before she laid them down for bed. The boys all shared one large room. When they were older, they would each get their own, but she believed it necessary that they stick together to develop a brotherly bond with each other. She didn't decide to have three in a row for nothing. She wanted them to grow to love one another and keep each other company. Late at night she listened outside of their door. She hoped to not hear them sleeping right away, instead, it was music to her ears when she heard them discuss their favorite cartoons and plan what they would be doing together the next day. But tonight, there was no discussion.

The following day, Leah rounded the boys out the door and onto the school bus. They all appeared excited, all except for Gavin who trudged onto the school bus. Instead of sitting with his brothers, he sat across from them alone. He stared out the window biting his lip while they talked quietly about him. The boys all sat up front due to the fact that the older kids had the back of the bus.

When at last they arrived at the small school, they split into their individual classrooms and Gavin went into Mr. James' class. His eyes moved about the room searching for his aggressor, but didn't see her. He then took his seat in the back row. His name was written on his desk in bold black marker and he stared at it for a long while. Nothing productive came of class today, as he was more worried about the judgmental eyes of his peers. Being pushed down by a girl was an awful thing. At lunch he sat between his brothers and they ate in their military fashion before recess.

With their stomachs filled, the boys played in the tire shreds which coated the playground. They had brought their toy trucks in their backpacks and shoveled their way through black rubber. They loaded their dump trucks and pretended they were hauling it to some place special, however Gavin had decided to sit on the swings, swaying back and forth. He had an uneasy mind, for nothing had been said yet about yesterday's event. The quietness made him worry even more, because it probably meant it was being discussed behind his back.

The deeper in thought he became, the more his swinging slowed as he remembered being pushed down. He had been playing with his trucks with his brothers and the new kid asked for one. Of course, Gavin said they couldn't keep it, but he offered one of his trucks for the borrowing. Unfortunately, when he asked for it back the new kid refused and pushed him down. That's when Gavin first discovered the kid was a girl, for Graham and Grant both laughed at him, as well as some other kids, pointing and shouting, "You got pushed down by a girl!" Gavin was completely distraught, for he had been fooled by the t-shirt, jeans, and boy cut hair. Girls didn't play with semis and now what was he to do? Boys weren't allowed to retaliate against girls. Since he had fallen to the ground, he was so embarrassed he couldn't tell any adults about it. Still, she had that piece of him, his toy.

Today, he wondered about how to get it back, but as his eyes searched the playground, he noticed she was absent. Perhaps someone had told on her and she had gotten in trouble? Regardless, her absence gave him time to rehearse a script of standing up to her. He wouldn't push her back, but instead he would ask for it back kindly. He did just that when the next day's recess rolled about. She was playing with his truck in the tire shreds on the opposite side of the playground.

"Hey," he said making his voice sound deeper. The girl stood and brushed the dirt off her pants. She was the only girl he had known that dressed like a boy and had hair like a boy. "May I have my semi back please?"

"No," she said frankly.

"But you know it isn't yours. You took it from me," he tried to reason with her.

"It's mine now," Ray said approaching Gavin. She was taller than him, slender framed, and more intimidating than the last time. "It's just one toy anyway. You've prolly got lots of 'em," she said.

Gavin thought about this and then said, "You've got lots of toys too."

"Maybe I do, maybe I don't," she shrugged.

"Please!" he begged.

"Whoever is strongest gets it," Ray became face to face with him. Gavin could feel the eyes of other kids on them once more, but he couldn't bring himself to put his hands on her or snatch the truck from her grasp.

"No," he shook his head. "Boys aren't allowed to be mean to girls."

"That's a lie," she said. "Who told you that?"

"My mom," Gavin now avoided eye contact with her.

"Your mom is stupid! She doesn't know anything!" Ray told him. Gavin squinted his eyes together and felt his face become warm. Leah always gave him food to eat and always made him feel better when he was sick. Of course she was smart. How could anyone talk about such a great person that way?

"No, she isn't!" he shouted in her face. Ray shoved him backwards and he fell hard on the ground. He then saw Mr. James approaching. He was a trim man with a white button up, a checkered tie, and black slacks.

"What seems to be the problem here?" he asked. Ray stared at his tie as if entranced at the optical illusion. She was pacified at once and handed back Gavin's truck as if it was an impulse. Gavin took it back and the teacher made a connection in his mind. "Sharing is caring," he reminded the children. Ray displayed an empty expression and Gavin noticed how timid she became.

In junior high, Graham and Gavin seemed to grow closer to each other while Grant was ahead of them as a high school freshman. They still had recess, but it was shorter and they typically used it for football. They were growing taller and their voices were changing. Their mother constantly wailed about it and it annoyed them very much.

"Hey, did you hear about that Ray chick?" Graham asked as he threw the football to his brother. They were at the end of the football field for recess while the other students played numerous other things. Gavin shook his head from side to side failing to hear the latest update on Ray Cross.

He knew she was a mean girl and due to his past impression of her, he didn't care for her at all. She had blossomed faster than any other junior high student. As if she had finally given up hiding her figure, she now wore low cut shirts and tight jeans. People said she could pass as a freshman, for she had even taken to wearing makeup. Gavin heard the rumors spread about her like wild fire. Students said she was failing classes and smoking, but Graham appeared to know something more today. "Apparently she drinks now."

"Oh yeah?" Gavin asked. After he caught the football, he looked back towards the other students. Of course, Ray sat alone on the bleachers reading a book.

"What do you think of it?" Graham asked his brother.

Gavin shrugged. His black hair was kept short. He wore an Illini football jersey and a pair of jeans and although he was still quite young, the muscles in his arms were evidently under construction. Their father Mike had offered to let the boys use his work out system at home since he knew they were interested in high school football. He advised them to use it with discretion because they were still young and growing. For the most part, pushups, sit-ups, running, and playing were enough for them. When Gavin caught the ball for the last time, the teacher called them in and they all split up to their classrooms once more.

Gavin strolled into his math class with his book in his backpack. It made a loud noise as he set it on top of his desk. After the bell rang, the teacher tallied attendance with an ink pen and wrote down the names of the absent and late students. It was Gavin's turn to take the attendance sheet down to the principal's office. By accident, he had also taken the pen from his teachers grasp when she had absent mindedly handed both to him.

As he made his way down the long hallway, he saw Ray standing in front of the year book photos. She was defacing faculty portraits and as soon as her eyes met with his she was on the offense. "Keep moving and keep your mouth shut you little bitch," he continued about his way keeping his eyes straight forward, trying to ignore her presence, but she saw the attendance slip in his hand. She strode after him and snatched it away. She had dark makeup around her green eyes and wore a tight white t-shirt under a leather jacket, and skinny jeans with black all-star shoes. With the pen in her other hand, she scratched her name off of the late list and shoved it against his chest. He took the slip from her cold grasp, shaking his head from side to side.

"Go," Ray pointed to the office.

"Just go to class," he said quietly.

"Go to Hell", she replied.

Suddenly Mrs. Crane stepped out and started for the two of them from down the hall. Gavin watched as Ray discretely shoved the black ink pen between her breasts and out of sight.

"Shouldn't both of you be in class?" she asked.

They nodded their heads and then Gavin replied, "I'm taking the attendance slip to the office," he showed her the piece of paper. His teacher's pen was in his other hand.

"And you Miss Cross?" the teacher glanced at her and then at the defaced portraits behind her.

"I'm late to class because I had to use the restroom. It's a girl thing," she said using the greatest excuse known to all junior high girls.

Mrs. Crane ignored this and then proceeded to ask, "Do either of you know who did this?" she pointed to the pictures. The answer was obvious so she expected the truth to come out as so. Ray looked at Gavin and he stared back her. Neither of them replied.

"Well, I know it was one of you, because no one else has walked past my door since the last time I saw these pictures. Someone better fess up or you're both suspended," she was urging Gavin to tell the truth. The way Ray dressed didn't make her look any more innocent. Her hair had grown out now and fell straight past her shoulders over her leather jacket.

Without any further hesitation Gavin said, "I did it," he then handed Mrs. Crane the pen from his left hand.

Both the teacher and Ray looked confused and she snatched it from his hand. "Well, this is surprising," said Mrs. Crane. "I'm very disappointed in you Gavin of all the most well-behaved students. "I hope you weren't doing anything to impress anyone. As for you Miss Cross, get yourself to class." She then proceeded to walk Gavin to the principal's office. The price to pay for vandalism of school property was a three-day suspension.

At home, he was grounded during those days. "Gavin, how could you?" his mother asked him. Her face was full of disappointment along with the tone of her voice. "I raised you better than that." She was sitting in a chair beside his bed.

"I know," he said. If he really had been the one to do it, he would've felt awful, but because it wasn't him, he didn't take his punishment seriously. He knew that he was a good kid.

However, when his father came home, he simply ignored the boy harshly and noticeably at the table. He did not ask how his day was. He did not ask to hear of his accomplishments. He didn't even care about his opinions on the stories anyone shared.

Instead, Grant and Graham engaged deeply with him. For Gavin, his father's cold shoulder was much worse than hearing his mother babble on about how disappointed she was with him for doing such a thing. Instead, Mike's point was to show the boy that regardless of whatever he had done, it wasn't worth it if it brought shame upon his self.

When at last Gavin showed his face again at school after being grounded from his television, sports, contact with his friends, and to some degree, even contact with his brothers, the faces and conversations of others seemed to disappear in his mind for the suspension still rested heavily on his conscience. He felt that he had done wrong and so he was convinced he was a bad kid. He sat alone on the bleachers instead of playing football with Graham.

Shortly after, he wished that he had joined him when Ray's footsteps sounded against the metal bleachers. She took a seat beside him and asked, "Why did you do that?" Gavin merely shrugged his shoulders.

She rolled her eyes. "I was going to blame it on you anyway, you little shit." Today her hair was curled. She wore a pair of jeans and a black tank top revealing her collar bone and slender neck. Gavin watched in the distance as a group of four girls walked their way. They were preps, cheerleaders with bows in their hair and they all dressed in the same way, short shorts and tie-dye t-shirts.

"Are you serious?" the lead girl asked with her arms folded and a fake smile. She had straight brown hair that fell down her right shoulder from her pony tail. She wore faint makeup less harsh than Ray's. Gavin's older brother had grown interested so even Graham and his friends had started up the bleachers as well. Ray sat with her eyes squinted. "I wanted to go to the dance with you, but now you can just forget it," Ashley continued on. "I can't hang out with trash."

Gavin remained silent, wallowing mentally in his self-pity. He was trash now.

"My brother isn't trash," Graham replied now standing beside Gavin.

"Yeah, okay," Ashley said in a sarcastic tone.

Ray spoke up, "At least he's not a recyclable like you."

Gavin was overwhelmed with how many people had begun fighting for him. His face was unreadable and his mind was slightly blown with confusion at how quickly this pop-up storm had emerged. He tried to find comfort in his brother's attempt to defend him, but it made him feel even worse that he couldn't stick up for himself. As for Ray's insults, he also found that to be upsetting. Overall, he hated confrontation.

"Shut up," Ashley snapped at her.

"You need to back off before I push your skinny little ass down the bleachers," Ray warned her.

"You wouldn't," Ashley pressed.

Ray stood and took a step down in Ashley's direction with eyes full of hate, but Gavin impulsively grabbed her wrist. Ray looked back at him. "Please don't," he said with an empty voice.

Ashley's jaw dropped and she became furious. "You know what Gavin; you aren't worth it!" she shouted and then retreated. Gavin could feel Ray's desire to pull away, but his words alone had kept her firmly in place. Together they watched the girls walk away, their pony tails swinging behind them as they descended the bleachers.

"He's probably got too big of a dick for you anyway!" Ray shouted after her. Graham and the other boys broke into hushed laughter, but of course what she had said was later taken out of context.

One evening while working in the shop with their father, Grant, Graham, and Gavin took a seat on the gravel beside the red International. Mike stood before them wiping some of the oil off of his hands on a rag when he said, "Before you eat dinner, I need to talk to you boys. Now, it's been brought to my attention that you're getting older…" Grant had a bored look on his face. He was the oldest of the three. His skin glistened with sweat.

Their dark lashes were long as they looked at the gravel and avoided eye contact with him. All three were dressed for the shop in blue jeans and white tank tops.

"Look, as much as I'd prefer you three to remain abstinent, I can't constantly monitor where you are at all the time neither can your mother. So, we trust you to use protection, ask questions, and tell the truth. That's all," he said. He then placed the rag in his back pocket and placed his hands on his hips. "Does anyone have any questions, or anything to say? Gavin?" he asked in particular.

The boys were quiet. Graham and Grant both looked at their younger brother. He stared back at his father with a look of innocence and shook his head no.

When at last they were dismissed by the nod of their father's head, they all stormed for the house. They each had their own rooms now along the same hallway. Grant didn't feel as if they were far enough apart. On his way to his room, he pushed Gavin out of his way as if he wasn't walking fast enough. Gavin stumbled and knocked a picture off the wall. It fell to the floor with a crash. "Stay out of my way!" Grant shouted.

"What's wrong?" Gavin asked. He stood about four inches shorter than his older brother. His muscle mass was far less developed as well. Grant then grabbed a hold of the front of his white tank and proceeded to punch him in the face. Graham flew towards them, since he had trailed behind, and tried to break up the fight. However, even he quickly found himself a victim of Grant's wrath. With all the commotion Leah saw in horror the three of them fighting like animals from the end of the hallway. They were older, stronger, and unrecognizable with their changing voices.

In horror she ran for the back door and screamed, "Michael, come quick!"

Although she was quite far away, the distress in her voice carried itself across the yard. He dropped the tools in his hands and darted for the house at once. When at last he was close enough, he glanced at her face reddened with tears and fear. He dashed past her into the hallway where all of the shouting and racket resonated. Graham had Grant in a choke hold while Grant punched Gavin in the face once more. They all looked like stray dogs in a street fight. Their hair was messed up and blood dripped either from their noses or lips.

"ENOUGH!" Mike shouted in the most thunderous voice they had ever heard. Their heads all turned in his direction while he thundered their way in his large boots. Graham let go of Grant at once and disappeared into his room while their father approached. His footfalls were heavy and full of authority. His callused hands were open, yet flaccid as they swung at his sides. Once he reached his two remaining boys, Mike hoisted Grant off of his youngest brother by grabbing him by his arms, taking him from his knees to his feet. His bloody fists were still borne as he looked down at Gavin, who had received a busted lip, a bloody nose and a swollen forehead. Tears streamed down his cheeks from his dark eyes.

"Woman," Mike turned back to his wife. She had a trembling hand over her mouth at the sight. "Do something!" he shouted at her.

Instantly she headed into the bathroom to get the first aid kit. When at last she returned to Gavin, he was the only one in the hallway. He hadn't moved and the tears still fell down his cheeks. "Oh, honey," she held back her own tears so that she could focus on tending to him.

"I didn't do anything," he cried and continued to repeat himself. His mother placed some gauze over his lip with medical tape and held a tissue to his nose. He was now drawn into her lap with his head against her chest. He was heavy in her arms but she still felt the light air of innocence about him while he wept.

When at last Mike stepped out of Grant's bed room at the end of the hall, he looked at Leah and Gavin. She had her back rested against the wall and shards of glass were scattered across the floor from the fallen picture. "Get up, both of you," he directed them. "You see this mess?" The two stood. While Leah went to get a dust pan and a broom, Gavin disappeared into his room. Mike shut the door behind him and began to pick up the large pieces with his callus hands, including the picture.

Leah swept up the shards and he watched as she did so. They then went to throw their shares of the mess into the trash can. She set the broom and the dust pan back in its place just inside the kitchen closet.

Mike came to stand beside the kitchen counter with his arms crossed and his hip leaned against it. "It was my fault," he admitted with a sigh. One of his knees was bent, putting all the weight on one foot.

Leah pursed her lips together shaking her head. "I knew there was no point…"

"Alright!" he raised his voice at her.

"They're still just kids, Michael!"

"But Leah, things aren't like they used to be when we were their age," he walked towards her. He had come to stand in front of her with his face inches from hers. His pepper hair came to rest at the edges of his eyebrows, for his hair was parted down the middle. They both reflected on the way music had changed, as well as the media, the fashion, and the culture.

What was even more alarming was how early certain things were being taught in school. "I know they are kids," Mike said slowly, "you must realize though that they are living in a world that is asking for them to grow up too fast."

"Please go talk to him," she simply said. He then went into Gavin's room.

Gavin was laying on his back, for his face hurt too bad to press against anything. His tears had long since dried and his mind had long since roamed over all the possible reasons Grant could have had for punishing him, but he couldn't think of anything.

Mike sat on the edge of his bed and drew the tips of his fingers together at his knees. He looked down at his son's wooden floor and tapped his timberland boot against its surface. Gavin was quiet as he pictured the awkward speech his father had given not too long ago. Still, it wasn't quite as awkward as this.

"Gavin," he finally began. He had been wrong about his son who was in fact still innocent. He could see it in the way he cried in his mother's arms. Mike assumed if he was wrong about that, then he was also wrong about Gavin vandalizing the school. "What's going on with you and this Ray Cross?"

"Nothing, we aren't even friends," he answered.

Mike pursed his lips together. "Are you sure there is nothing going on?"

"We don't even talk," he replied.

"Well, your brother believes in something else, and I told him no matter how angry he gets it's never alright to put his hands on others." Gavin had become quiet and quiet he stayed until his father left his room.

As Faith and Gavin moved through the dining room into the living room, a man with slicked back, pepper hair sat at desk on the phone in the corner.

"Take that load to Nashville," he said, swinging the swivel chair around. His jaw dropped at the sight of them. "Hey, I'll call you back." He suddenly hung up the phone and then stood from his seat as if a drill sergeant had commanded him to attention. He wore a black button up with white pinstripes and a pair of black cargo shorts. He also wore a silver watch on his left wrist, which accented the diamond band on his ring finger.

"Sit down dad," Gavin told him. The man collapsed back into his seat and continued to look the two of them up and down. His thick black brows were drawn together. Wrinkles bunched between his eyes. The man was completely flabbergasted.

"This is Faith," he introduced his daughter. The little girl gave the older gentleman a courtesy hug and then stared at him with dark wide eyes.

"She's gotten so big," he commented, shaking his head from side. "Come, let your mother see you." He stood from his seat once more and then led them outside.

The laughter and conversations stopped at once. A man was standing before the grill. He turned around to see what had silenced them all. The only noise that continued on was the children at play on the jungle gym. Three women sat in the shade of an umbrella around a patio table. The chairs and the umbrella were all made of a light weight wicker material.

One man who had been at play with the children in the yard began to tread in their direction. "Look who finally decided to show up for a change," the man said. He had jet black hair and eyes. He wore a red tank top and blue jeans.

The oldest woman at the table stood and ran to Gavin. She threw her arms around his torso. Her hair was black, fading grey. It was pulled back into a bun exposing her face and it was wrinkled with age. Her lips were slightly red and she wore a bit of blush. Her navy-blue sun dress had a brown belt around her slender waist.

"I'm sorry," he said looking down at her. She rested her head against his chest in silence. When she decided to let him go, the man at the grill set his tongs down and removed his apron, revealing his blue button up and jeans. He then walked over to Gavin and threw his arms around him.

"Grant," Gavin smiled.

"Welcome back bro," the man said. "Damn, you put on weight. And what did you do to your hair?"