Here's my disclaimer
Bobby Mercer prided himself on being a pretty clever guy. He was good at hockey. He was a decent enough worker. Even if he wasn't be school smart, at least he was street smart.
But for the life of him, he couldn't figure out why his youngest, and newest, brother was bugging out.
Scott wasn't a close contact kinda kid anyway, but the only one who had ever actually backed away when approached was Jack. Now, Jack was gun shy. Scott, brass balls all the way, always itching for a fight, would never back away when anybody stepped towards him.
"What's up with you?" Jerry asked suspiciously, after Scott jumped a foot in the air and nearly shot off into the horizon when Angel touched his shoulder. "Looking for the boogeyman?"
Scott pulled a cigarette from his pocket, lighting it with one hand and turning in a circle. "Something like that." He whispered.
"Kid, you sound like you swallowed chalk." Angel jeered. Scott grimaced. "What's wrong?"
"Sore throat." He said dryly. "I gotta go."
"Yeah, I know." Bobby piped up. "I just waited twenty minutes for school to let out to come get you and Crackerjack here." Jack scowled at the nickname. "Let's go."
"No, I mean I have to go. I have to leave." He faltered at the apprehensive looks on his adoptive brothers' faces. "I'm- I'm walking home with- someone."
"Who?" Jack asked.
"None of your business, that's fucking who!" Scott shouted. His raised voice drew glares from onlookers. Bobby reach forward to calm him down, but Scott tore out of his grip like a snake. "Sorry." He said lamely. "I have to go."
He turned and ran off, dodging students and people walking. Angel started to go after him, but Jerry grabbed the back of his jacket and held him back.
"Best to just let him run it off." He warned. "You know how he gets sometimes. And all those other foster homes. I don't know about ya'll, but I'd kind of like to keep my clothes unburned and my fingers on my hands. Thank you very much." He rubbed his had together and shivered. "Let's go, Bobby."
"What about Scott?" Jack motioned helplessly to the faceless crowd, scanning the bodies hopelessly for Scott. "We can't just leave him here. Ma will be furious."
Jerry sighed and got into the front seat of Bobby's car.
"It's up to Bobby." Angel suggested. Bobby glared at his younger brother. Jack stared up at him hopefully. "What do you think?"
"I think you should make some fucking decisions yourself once in a while." Bobby snapped. "But Jack's right. If Ma find out I let Scott get away, 'specially acting the way he was- Christ she would kill me and no one would ever find the remains." Jack and Angel got in the backseat. "Sorry Jerry, but you just got outvoted."
"Yeah, yeah." Jerry rolled his eyes as the car started. "Just don't come crying to me when he stabs you through the chest with a switchblade."
"Hey, c'mon." Jack protested as Bobby drove through the streets. "Scott's not all bad."
"No." Angel agreed. "Just mostly bad." Jack elbowed him, and Angel wrapped his muscled arm around Jack's throat, messing up his shaggy blond hair. "Mess with me again, Jackie." He threatened, laughing breathlessly. "I'll mess you up, pretty boy."
"C'mon, Angel, you're all talk." Jack squealed as Angel dove for him again, unable to escape the cramped interior.
Bobby ignored his squabbling brothers and slowed down to question a passerby. "Uh, 'scuse me ma'am. Have you seen a kid running by here? White, about five feet so, long black hair. Sorta this long." He gestured awkwardly to his shoulders.
The young black woman shifted her groceries from one arm to the other, pausing to think. "Yeah, I think so. Scrawny little guy?" Bobby nodded. "Looked kinda sick, like maybe he was tripping out." She squinted at the car. "I tried to avoid him. He was heading out by the docks."
Bobby thanked her and drove on. "Docks?" Jerry asked, wrinkling his nose in confusion. "Why's Scott going out to the docks?"
Obviously there was no need to have docks in Detroit. It was landlocked. The docks were the traditional name for a fairly large-sized pond open to swimmers in the summer. Now, late fall, it was closed.
Bobby sped up, a bit nervous.
"You think he's dealing?" Jack leaned forward as they approached the fenced-in park. The Mercer boys would be hypocrites to be angry with Scott for taking drugs. Dealing, however, was something they did not approve of. It was one thing to be taking drugs, quite another to be buying or selling them.
"That kid lights up cigarettes like they're matches." Jerry argued. "But he won't touch a drop of alcohol. And one time, I was doing a little hash in my room. That boy had a look like I stabbed him or something. Ya'll might be taking drugs, but I bet anything Scott won't-"
He was interrupted when Bobby slammed on the brakes, simultaneously flinging his door open and falling into the gravel.
"Bobby?" Jack cried out. "What are you doing?" The three remaining brothers got out of the car and watched as Bobby leapt over the fence like it was a foot tall, hurtling toward the figure smoking a cigarette.
"Hey!" He shouted as the figure jumped into the water. "Hey, stop!"
Jerry, Angel, and Jack all took off once they realized it was, in fact, Scott who had just dove into freezing water.
Bobby was never much of a swimmer. He jumped into the water with all his clothes in and paddled out to Scott, locking his arms around the thin boy and hauling him to shore. His clothes were soaked, making them weigh a ton.
"What the Hell is wrong with you?" He screamed, dropping his brother onto the sand and kneeling beside him. Scott coughed up a load of water, spitting onto himself. "Is it really that bad here?" Bobby grabbed Scott and shook him.
"What the Hell is wrong with me?" Scott snapped back. "You just tackled me underwater, you fucking animal. I was swimming." Bobby tightened his grip and snarled. He imagined he must look pretty scary, because Scott shrank away. "Why- why would I kill myself?" Scott looked less angry now, more troubled.
"I just- I just overreacted." Bobby let go of Scott and helped him to his feet. "It's November. The water is cold."
Scott rolled his eyes. "Duh." He snickered. "That was kind of the point." He trailed behind the four brothers as they trudged through the mud back to Bobby's car, discreetly dumping the stones he'd collected out of his pocket and onto the ground.