Brian discovers the joy of moonshine with his 'sunshine.' Justin has another confrontation with his father before the town social. Jared develops a plan to break the two potential lovers apart with some unsuspecting help.
The slamming of a vehicle's door caused Sarah to lift her head in curiosity; they weren't expecting any company today. Wiping her hands on her half-apron, she pushed back from the kitchen table and walked over to the back screen door, her eyes widening in concern when she recognized Doc Callahan's battered pickup truck parked near the barn. "Oh, no," she groaned in concern as she pushed the screen door to open it and rushed outside.
As she neared the barn, she could hear some quiet talking, but not much else. Biting her lower lip in apprehension over what she might encounter, she hurried inside, noticing the doctor kneeling down in front of Checkers, who was lying on her side. She could see Will and Brian facing him on the other side of the cow as she called out anxiously, "Will? What's going on?"
At the sound of her voice, her husband lifted his head to look over at her and to her utter surprise actually smiled.
"Sarah!" he cried out excitedly. "Come and meet the newest addition to our family!"
Sarah couldn't help smiling back at him in immense relief as she rushed over to see a newborn calf lying on its side, struggling now to stand up. "Oh, my God, Will! It's beautiful!" she gushed. She noticed with a start that Will actually had his hand on Brian's shoulder as he nodded back at her.
"You mean she," he corrected her. "Isn't she a beauty?"
Sarah nodded as she looked down at Brian who had this look of amazement on his face as he watched the cow now slowly rise on her knobby little legs and finally stand shakily on her feet. "She looks just like her mama," she said, feeling a little foolish over her sentimentality. But it was true; she had the same type of black and white markings that had gotten the mother her name of 'Checkers.' "How is she, Doc?" she asked their long-time vet.
The doctor ran his hands alongside the newborn's stomach, neck and head as it bleated softly in complaint. "Seems just fine to me, especially considering the way she came into this world," he told her as he placed his stethoscope away in his bag and wiped his hands off on his pants. "You'll need to keep a close eye on her, but she looks good so far."
Sarah nodded as the doctor rose up on his feet; she was well aware that even with a successful birth, complications could still ensue in the next couple of days.
"You know what to do?" the vet said to Will, who nodded; this wasn't the first calf he had helped birth, so he knew the post-delivery procedures well by now. "Give me a call if any complications occur," he said as he glanced over at Brian. "But I think you have a pretty competent assistant there if you need help. Nice meeting you, Son," he told Brian as he reached for his bag and stood up. He nodded his head at Brian's aunt. "See you at the social tomorrow, Sarah? I'm salivating over the idea of some blueberry cobbler; you ARE bringing it, aren't you?"
She beamed over the compliment. "Of course."
He nodded. "Good. I'll be in the front row bidding on it, then. See you folks tomorrow."
"Thanks, Doc," Will told him quietly as the man turned to go.
"Don't thank me; thank your nephew," the vet said with a grin as he walked away.
Sarah walked over and knelt down where the doctor had been before to pet the calf as Checkers eyed her warily. "It's okay, mom; you know I won't hurt her," she promised. She looked over at Will. "So it was a difficult birth?"
Brian snorted before his uncle had a chance to respond, wiping his hands off on an old towel that his uncle had given him earlier. "You have no idea..." he murmured almost in a daze; the whole thing had happened so fast, he really hadn't had much time to absorb everything.
"Brian helped with the birth?" his aunt asked in amazement, wondering what the doctor had meant earlier.
"I still can't believe it," Brian replied as he looked from his sticky hands to the baby calf now standing wobbly on its feet; it still hadn't quite sunk in yet. "That big baby came out of that cow..."
Sarah's heart sang at the sound of her husband actually chuckling softly over their nephew's reaction. "What happened exactly?"
"The calf was backwards and the tail was in the wrong place; I couldn't fit my hands inside, so Brian had to do it for me. He delivered it." He peered over at his nephew as he admitted, "If he hadn't been here, that calf wouldn't have made it." There was a different tone to her husband's voice now, almost one of respect, as he described what Brian had done.
Sarah's eyes filled with tears of gratitude; it was yet another way that Brian had made a difference in their lives. "I'm glad you're here, Brian," she whispered in a choked voice. "You've been a lifesaver." In more ways than you know, she thought silently.
Brian found his face warming over the praise; it had been weird enough getting a thank you from his uncle, but to have his aunt thanking him, too - it was almost overwhelming. He wasn't used to someone actually giving him credit for something he did. "Thanks," he finally managed to mumble in a self-effacing manner. "I had no idea what I was doing," he admitted. "It was damn scary."
For once his uncle didn't call him out on his swear word as he reached for the rope attached to Checkers. "Come on, Mama; it's time for you to get up," he told the cow softly as he stood up and pulled gently on the tether. Checkers seemed to understand what he was requesting, and must have wanted to stand up, also, because slowly, with a couple of loud moos of protest in between, she finally stood up on her feet, leaning her head down to nuzzle the newborn calf who was now standing next to her like a miniature version of herself.
"What are we going to call her?" Sarah asked as she stroked Checkers' neck soothingly.
Will huffed as he let go of the rope. "I'll leave that up to you and Brian," he told them crustily as he fell back into his normal modus operandi. "You know I don't name the farm animals, Woman."
Sarah grinned; she was on to him. That was the nickname Will always used when he was trying to sound gruff, but not quite succeeding. To her, it sounded like music to her ears, because he hadn't used that in a long time. "I'll take care of it," she said with a smile. "Are you done with your medical assistant now? If so, I could use his help."
Will shrugged. "We're done; I'll take care of the calf." He knew whenever the town social occurred, his wife was up to her elbows in baking. He didn't envy Brian the job she would assign him, then, although after helping to deliver the calf, his nephew would probably see it as a welcome change.
"Brian, can you help me out some more in the kitchen?" Sarah asked as Brian nodded.
He turned his nose up at his appearance; his clothes were all mussed up and dirty, and he smelled like shit. "I need to take a shower first, though."
She nodded. "I'll meet you downstairs in about half an hour?"
He nodded back at her as he stood up; still holding the soiled towel, he draped it over a wooden post near the stall before he headed out. As he walked by her, Sarah impetuously threw her arms around his neck and gave him a quick kiss on the cheek. "Thanks again," she whispered in his ear as Brian just stood there awkwardly, his hands held out so he wouldn't get her dirty. Nodding once more at her as she let him go, he turned and walked out of the barn.
"I told you, William; he's a good kid deep down," Sarah told her husband as she watched him go. "He saved that calf's life and probably the mother's, too, didn't he?"
"Yeah," Will conceded. Feeling like he was giving a little too much away, he replied, "Can we just drop it now, Sarah? We're already giving him a place to live where he can stay out of jail and out of trouble. He's still not a saint."
Sarah sighed, wondering just what it would take to get completely through her husband's shell. There had been some give and take, though, and that was a start. "I'll have supper ready around 6," she told him as Will nodded. Turning, she slowly walked out of the barn and back to her cobbler preparations.
One Hour Later...
Brian placed the heavy, teeming bucket of blueberries down into the right side of the cement, double sink in the basement with a grunt; after this, he would never eat another blueberry again. But he had agreed to help his aunt prepare them for freezing, so he had to finish following through with it. Taking the metal colander that he had been given, he placed it down in the bottom of the other sink and lifted the bucket enough to pour some of them into the colander. Returning it to the other side, he began to pour water over the berries to wash them and prepare them to be placed, single file, onto a cookie sheet. From there, they would go into the freezer until they crystallized in about four hours, at which time he could transfer them into glass Mason jars.
Five minutes later, he carefully placed each rinsed berry onto a nearby, metal cooking sheet and set them on a metal rack in the large, top-loading freezer that the Walkers kept strictly for freezing and canning their produce; it was yet another way that they tried to stretch every dollar they could, according to his aunt.
"I forgot my lacy apron," Brian snarked as he closed the freezer door and prepared to walk back over to the sink. A white metal, slightly rusty corner cabinet, however, caught his eye as he dried his hands on a paper towel and walked over to investigate. The door stuck a little as he pulled on the metal handle to open it, but after a little more exertion he finally succeeded as the door surrendered to his strength. As he glanced at what lay inside, his face broke into a smile. Now this was something he would NEVER grow tired of! Lined up on two shelves inside were approximately 10 - 15 dusty liquor bottles filled with some sort of pale yellow liquid; a cork was wedged in the top of each one, and they had no identifying labels on them, but it didn't take a wine connoisseur to know what was in THOSE containers.
His chore for his aunt temporarily forgotten, he reached to grab the nearest bottle by the neck, eager to give the contents a whiff and to get a taste of what lay inside. To his consternation, however, the cork wouldn't budge. "Shit," he grumbled in disappointment. He licked his lips; he could almost taste whatever was in it. Sighing when he tried several times unsuccessfully to get it to move, he resolved to finish his task as soon as possible so he could go in search of some sort of instrument that would 'get the job done.' Grabbing another bottle, he placed both down on the floor as he hurried to finish up what he needed to do.
Fifteen minutes later, the two liquor bottles were safely hidden in the bottom of the empty berry bucket as he carried his cherished contents back up the basement steps. Making sure his aunt and uncle weren't around as he opened the door and stepped out into the narrow, wooden hallway, he quietly opened up the broom closet located directly across from the basement door and carefully placed the bottles behind his aunt's mop, shifting the rope braids around to completely cover his treasure. Smiling in satisfaction, he closed the door back and walked toward the kitchen, swinging his empty bucket back and forth. Now he had something besides his next encounter with Justin to look forward to. Or perhaps he could combine them? His smile widened even more as an idea formed in his head and he went back to work.
11:30 p.m. - Windswept Farm
Justin lay on his bed on top of the covers, clad in a pair of loose-fitting chinos; he was bone weary, and had decided not to bother taking his pants off. He knew he needed to get to sleep, but his mind was racing so much, slumber wouldn't come. He sighed; that was getting to be a bad habit of his lately.
He clasped his hands on his bare chest, lost in thought. He recalled his conversations with both Brian and Vic earlier today; they had basically told him the same thing - that he was too young to bear the great responsibility that had been thrust upon him, and he needed to find a way to fulfill his own dreams. The main question, though, was: how did he extricate himself from his situation without feeling like he was letting his family down? That was the big question, wasn't it? And there didn't seem to be any ready answers to it, either.
Earlier at dinner, he had toyed with the idea of broaching the topic, but he couldn't for the life of him find a way to do it. Of course, having his jerk of a brother eying him from across the table and glaring at him didn't help much. He wasn't sure what he had done to warrant his brother's scorn this time, but he suspected it was because their father had insisted on him actually doing some work for a change. That was the typical reaction Jared always had whenever he had to get his hands dirty with something other than grease and a monkey wrench.
His father had actually been somewhat decent for a change during dinner; he had asked him how the workout had gone and had seemed fairly interested in what he had to say. It appeared that he was actually listening to him, rather than just nodding his head periodically and murmuring a 'uh hum' occasionally; he had a feeling his mother might have had something to do with that, but at least it helped to make the meal a little more pleasant, despite his brother's surliness.
The night unseasonably muggy for June, he thought briefly about rising from the bed to go flip on the switch to turn on his small, circular, tabletop fan that was situated on top of his bedroom dresser; he had forgotten to crack the window open earlier to try and get some circulation inside the room. But he didn't get the chance to act on his idea. Adrenalin raced through his veins just then as he heard a sort of familiar, pelting noise skittering against his window. No... there's no fucking way...
"Oh, no," he murmured. He knew it couldn't be hail - it was calm and dry outside; in fact, the moon was 3/4th full, and as common on clear nights such as this one, the sky was awash with starlight; millions and millions of tiny, sparkling twinkles. He listened again for a moment as he continued to lie there, his heart beginning to pound. There it was again - a distinctive sort of light, rapid tapping noise across the glass. Well, that could only mean one thing in his mind.
Rising from the bed, he walked around it and over to the window. As he peered down below, he couldn't believe his eyes. Huffing in disbelief, he pushed on the lower wooden frame of the window and lifted it up as far as it would go. As soon as he stuck his head outside, he didn't have long to wait to get a response.
"Howdy, Tex!" Brian yelled up at him brightly with a goofy, lopsided sort of grin on his face; Justin could see a bottle of some sort clutched in his right hand as he stood there looking up at him, his chestnut-colored hair shining in the moonlight. "Come on down and let's do some arm wrestling!"
Justin's eyes widened at the loud tone of Brian's voice. "Shhh!" he hissed down at him. "You'll wake up my parents and Jared! What are you DOING here, Brian?"
Brian actually hiccupped as he informed him, "I told you; I came to see you." In fact, Brian had wanted nothing else since he had seen him earlier today; the half-bottle of corn liquor he had already consumed had only strengthened his resolve. "Come on down and let's get reacquainted."
"Brian, go away!" Justin pleaded with him. "You'll wake everyone up and I'll be in deep shit!" he whispered down to him as loudly as he dared.
"No," Brian said, actually stamping his foot. "I'm going to stay right here until you come down. I'll sing," he half-threatened, half-promised him as he hiccupped again. Normally, Brian would do no such thing, but it seemed the half-bottle of liquor, along with the weed he had smoked a little while ago, had loosened his inhibitions greatly.
Justin's eyes widened in disbelief. Did Brian just say what he thought he just said? He had never heard Brian even mention that he liked to sing, much less attempt it. But whether he could carry a tune or not, if he started belting out a ditty right now, there was no doubt it would be loud enough to wake the living dead; something told him Brian didn't do anything half-hearted.
"Okay, okay, I'll come down," Justin hastily reassured him as he made up his mind. "Just... just don't say anything else, and whatever you do, for God's sake, don't SING! Got it?"
Brian grinned back at him as he raised his bottle up and gave it a swig, tripping slightly on his feet as he swayed a little. "No can do, Farm Boy. Get that hot ass down here in one minute or I'm going to serenade you with 100 Bottles of Beer in the Stall."
"I'm coming," Justin hastened to tell him as he quickly turned from the window and looked around frantically in the dim light for his shirt; deciding he couldn't waste time trying to remember where he threw it aside, he grabbed his sneakers and rushed toward the door, carefully opening and closing it so no one would hear him. Wincing as he heard one of the steps creak on the way down and praying that Jared or his parents didn't hear, he reached the landing as fast as he dared and quickly turned the corner to rush through the hallway leading to the back door. Grimacing at the familiar squeak of the screen door as he opened it, he quickly closed it behind him, his shoes still clutched in his hands.
A few seconds later, he had to bite back the surprised squeal that threatened to erupt from his throat as he felt an arm slide around his waist from behind.
"Just in time," Brian whispered in his ear, his breath hot on his skin. "Beer No. 100 was about to topple over." Despite the thick blanket of mugginess that permeated the night, Justin shivered at the sound of Brian's husky voice, even as his chest felt like it was on fire from the arm that was holding onto him. He somehow managed to turn around in Brian's embrace and place his free hand against the other boy's chest to push against him to create some much-needed space between them as he asked once more, "What the hell are you doing here, Brian? Do you know what time it is?"
Brian reluctantly let go of Justin to hold his bottle up between them, eyeing his companion's pale, almost luminscent skin hungrily as Justin flushed. "Time to par-ty."
Justin hurriedly plopped his shoes down onto the floor of the porch and slid his feet into them as he said, "No, it's time to sleep."
"Then why weren't you?"
"Why wasn't I what?"
"Sleeping."
Justin's eyes flashed; this boy could get him riled up - in so many ways - like no one else could. "I was trying to until I was rudely interrupted!"
Brian grinned as Justin rolled his eyes in frustration. He wrinkled up his nose as he caught a whiff of Brian's breath. "What have you been drinking, Brian?" He couldn't believe he was having this inane conversation on his family's back porch. He was scared that the longer he and Brian remained there, too, the more likely that someone would discover them.
Brian shrugged. "Not sure. It's not too tasty, but it gets the job done. Found it in the basement."
"Oh, no," Justin murmured, realizing now why Brian was acting so out of it. "Don't tell me you found Dale's stash of moonshine! I thought they got rid of that shit!" Jared used to regale him all the time with tales about how Dale was a consummate moonshine maker, and how the two of them had created an old still using some discarded car parts. Jared, in fact, used to bring some of it home from time to time, unbeknownst to their parents, and hold it out to Justin like some prized possession. Justin had actually taken a sip once, and had promptly spit it out, deciding that it tasted like a cross between rubbing alcohol and gasoline (well, if he had ever tasted gasoline; it smelled enough like it to no doubt be able to fuel a car). Jared laughed at his reaction at the time, causing his face to turn bright red with a combination of anger and humiliation, but for whatever reason he had never told his parents about it. Now he almost wished he had for a lot of reasons.
Brian hiccupped again. "Is that what this is? Damn! It really has a kick!" He brought the bottle back up to his lips to take another swig before he held it out to Justin. "Try some, Speed Racer!"
"Oh, brother," Justin retorted over the new nickname as he reached over to grab the bottle away from him.
"Hey!" Brian protested a little too loudly as Justin held it away from his reach. "Give that back!"
"Brian, will you keep it down?" Justin pleaded, expecting the back door to open any second. Acting partly out of desperation, he clutched Brian's wrist and began to pull him off the porch away from the house; Brian stumbled slightly as he missed one the back porch steps and had to catch his balance as he and Justin reached the ground. "So pushy," Brian murmured as he was half-walked, half-dragged toward the gate leading out to the dirt driveway.
Justin gazed upward as if seeking divine intervention as he continued to tug Brian as far away from the house as possible; not realizing his every move was being watched now by the darkened, angry eyes of his brother peering out from his own bedroom window upstairs. Jared's mouth pressed into a firm line as he watched his brother and the boy he had become fixated upon slowly ambling toward the side of the barn; just before they turned the corner and disappeared behind it, he noticed Brian's arm slide around his brother's waist and pull him close.
"You little shit," Jared growled as his jealousy grew. "You're just a means to an end, Justin; he's just using you to get what he didn't get from me." He clutched the curtain tightly in his fist, his breathing rough and labored. "Well, we'll just see about this, Squirt," he snapped as he turned around to shrug into his jeans. Treading barefoot over to his door, he opened it to walk down the hallway to his parents' bedroom.
Their backs propped up against the split rail fence of the cow pasture, Brian took another swig from his bottle, his previous boisterousness at least temporarily tempered by his sudden fascination with all the thousands, if not millions, of stars twinkling above them. He craned his neck as he cast his eyes upward and looked with lips partly open in astonishment at the blanket of lights above them. "Where did they all come from?" he murmured philosophically as he gazed at them.
Justin grinned. "They were there all the time," he replied, amused by the look of childlike wonder on Brian's face. He had to speak up a little more loudly than normal to be heard over the choir of crickets chirping all around them. "You just couldn't see them in the big, bad city." A train whistle sounded mournfully off in the distance and Justin smiled. "Do you hear that?" he asked as he held his breath to listen to it sound again. "The train horn?"
Brian turned his head to look over at his companion; even in his inebriated state, he marveled at the beauty beside him. He nodded his head. "Hobos ride on them," he said unexpectedly as Justin erupted with a soft chuckle of amusement. Brian thought it sounded almost magical.
"You've been reading too many urban legends," Justin scoffed softly. He smiled again as the whistle sounded once more. "I love the sound of a train horn," he told him as their shoulders touched. "There's just something nostalgic about them, almost hypnotic. It's peaceful in a way." He eyed Brian sheepishly as the other boy wordlessly stared at him, knowing how weird that must sound. "Do you know they have certain signals they use when they're passing crossings? You can tell whether it's a long train or a short train by how many times they blow their signal, because they have to keep blowing them in intervals until the train has completely cleared."
"You know you almost glow under the moonlight?" Brian asked as Justin blushed to his roots at the unexpected compliment; apparently the corn liquor had succeeded in loosening Brian's lips as well as his inhibitions, because he knew he would never talk to him that way any other time. He watched, wide-eyed, as Brian leaned in toward him as if he were about to kiss him, when all of a sudden he took another swig from his bottle instead. "I promised to sing to you," he remembered with a sort of 'oops' look on his face.
"No, no, that's okay," Justin hastily responded, but it was too late. He watched as Brian hugged the bottle to his chest and looked up at the luminous moon above them before he opened his mouth and what could just barely pass as singing escaped his lips as he crooned at the top of his voice:
"Shine on, shine on, harvest moon, up in the sky! I ain't had no lovin' since January, February, June or July!"
Justin's eyes got big as saucers at the unexpected song choice as Brian continued to belt out his song:
"Don't make-a me wait too long...mffph!"
"Shhh!" Justin hissed as he clamped his hand over Brian's mouth to muffle the noise; two cows several dozen feet away in the fenced-in pasture promptly began to moo in startled irritation and a dog could be heard barking somewhere off in the distance. "Keep it down! You'll wake everyone up! I'm not supposed to be out here, Brian, and I'm sure neither are you!"
Brian shrugged Justin's hand away from his mouth as he crossed his arms over his chest, still clutching his bottle, and stated flatly, "You're no fun."
Justin huffed. "It has nothing to do with fun! You're just now making headway with your uncle; do you want to jeopardize that?"
Brian's face brought out into a wide, almost smug grin as he said, "I bet you didn't know I'm a father."
Justin scoffed. "What the fuck are you talking about, Brian? How can you be a father?"
"I am," the older boy insisted. "I'm the proud father of a 100-pound, bouncing, mooing, baby girl," he reported as he held his bottle out in tribute. "Bottoms up," he said with a smirk as he took a swig and Justin blushed at the look he was giving him. He frowned suddenly as he peered down, looking perplexed at his bottle as if he was just now realizing something. "I should have milk."
"Wait a minute!" Justin exclaimed excitedly as Brian's words sunk in; he clutched his companion's sleeve as he asked, "Are you trying to tell me that Checkers finally had her calf?"
Brian nodded as he grimaced. "Have you ever felt up the inside of a cow? Shit; that must be what it feels like to do it with a girl." His eyes traveled down the length of Justin's bare torso as he reached out and trailed one hand lightly down the middle of his sternum; he watched in fascination as Justin's muscles rippled under his touch. "I much prefer to do it with someone like you." His hand continued its downward travel toward the waistband of Justin's chinos as his hand curled around the fabric and he leaned in closer, his mouth hanging open slightly as his eyes locked on Justin's. His eyes drifted to his mouth, particularly that tantalizing, full, lower lip...
Justin's heart began to pound; as much as he was attracted to this gorgeous, sexy boy, the words that Vic had quietly spoken to him earlier came filtering back to him; was this how he wanted his first time to be, a convenient avenue for a half-drunken, oversexed boy who was merely using him as a convenience? But, God, he was so hot and the way he was looking at him sent a thrill of anticipation coursing through him. At that moment, he wanted him so badly, but not this way.
"I'm flattered," Justin finally answered dryly as he caught Brian's roaming hand in his own and grasped it, unable to avoid noticing how warm it felt; as Brian's fingers curled around his hand, his couldn't help thinking what those talented fingers could do somewhere else. God knows he had spent enough hours lying in bed at night wondering just that. He stared into eyes that bored into his; their faces mere inches away from each other's. Justin couldn't help reaching up to tentatively touch Brian's jawline, the pads of his fingers ghosting over the slightly-stubbled skin. "But it won't be tonight," he finally said with a resigned sigh.
He pulled his hand away from Brian's surprised face and released his hand as he stood up, impulsively climbing up onto the split rail fence to look out over at the pasture land and put a little space between them; several dairy cows of various sizes, ages, and shapes quietly grazed or stood stock still under the moonlight nearby, the rolling hills behind them looking like earthbound rainbows with their curved, arched shapes. This spot always gave him a certain amount of peace among his turmoil, but at the moment with Brian so near him, he found his heart pounding in reaction over what he had just done. He wasn't sure if he had done it out of courage or stupidity. What he DID know was that it wouldn't have taken much encouragement on his part for Brian to fulfill his most fervent wish - to know what it was like to be possessed body and soul by him - but he just couldn't allow that to happen with Brian in his current inebriated state. When it did occur - and he desperately knew now that he wanted his first time to be with him - he didn't want it to be in the heat of passion with no substance or meaning behind it.
Brian sat there, his mouth agape as he watched Justin pull away from him and climb up on the fence; had he just rejected him again? How much more was he willing to subject himself to at this younger boy's expense? Just what was it about Justin that attracted him so to the point where he was even willing to put up with it? All he knew was that he had to have him, one way or the other; he was more like some insatiable thirst now, and boy, was he out in the desert! Sighing in frustration, he slowly pulled himself to his feet, leaving the half-drunk bottle lying neglected on its side as he walked over to his companion. He placed his elbows on top of the fence as he stood there watching several cattle grazing among the grass or just standing there immobile like statues. His eyes twinkled and his face broke out into a slow smile as a wondrous thought occurred to him. "Justin?"
Justin turned his head to his left as he replied, "Yeah?" wondering what Brian wanted now; his body was aching for release after being so close to him, and this didn't help assuage it any. He was suddenly afraid that he was about to be told to go to hell and get lost over the constant, insecure, mixed signals he was giving him. But what Brian said next totally came out of left field.
"How do you tip a cow?"
"Huh?"
"You heard me. Let's go cow tipping!" he cried out in glee with a big grin on his face. He managed to climb up besides Justin and was about to scamper down onto the other side when Justin grabbed his upper arm in alarm.
"Are you out of your fucking mind, Brian?" he told him, his eyes wide with concern. "You can't tip a cow; they weigh over a thousand pounds! That's just an old wives' tale!"
"Humph," Brian huffed out, undeterred and unconvinced as he pulled out of Justin's clutches with surprising deftness and jumped down on the other side of the fence. "Come on, Farm Boy! Let's go round one of these doggies up!" He lifted his hand as he pointed at the cows and began to count out, "Eenie, meenie, minie, mo, catch a heifer by the toe, uh, hoof. My mother the bitch told me to pick YOU!" And with that, he settled on a large, black and white bovine standing stock still approximately fifty feet away; from the immobile stance of the beast, it appeared he, or she - he couldn't tell which - was fast asleep on his feet...uh, hooves.
"No, Brian!" Justin called out to him as Brian began to stealthily creep over toward the cow. "Don't do it; cows don't sleep standing up!" he warned him. "Brian, listen to me..."
But, emboldened by a sense of either courage or stupidity, as well as fueled by his partially-drunken state, Brian continued to silently advance on his target as some of the other cows turned their heads in curiosity over their unexpected and unfamiliar visitor, their big eyes blinking as they studied him with wariness and suspicion.
Justin's hands gripped the top of the wooden fence tightly in fear as he watched like an observer about to see a train wreck; to his horror, one of the steers - the one 'affectionately' known as Diablo who had the sharpest horns and the surliest of dispositions - slowly began to wander over in Brian's direction. "Brian!" he hissed out urgently again. "Get back over here, you idiot; you don't know what you're doing!" God knows he and Jared had done their share of stupid things growing up - including the same stunt that Brian was attempting to pull right now - but they had learned the hard way that you could NOT tip a cow over. All they had gotten from their attempt was a sore ass from the spanking their father had given both of them later when he had found out what they had done. At least they had managed to escape with their dignity and their limbs intact that time. Now it appeared, however, that Brian was going to possibly get a sore ass, too, though not from spanking. He was afraid that it might be more of a spearing rather than spanking as he watched the steer picking up speed now as it headed closer to his prey.
Brian walked up to the apparently slumbering cow, bending over to look underneath at the udders as he seemed to weigh his options. He rubbed his chin with his hand thoughtfully as he stood back up and surveyed his target. It didn't look all that hard, he decided; all it would take was a good, hard push and a lot of luck. Even in his less-than-sober state, though, he knew it was bad news to try and push it from the back; after all, he had seen enough of a cow's ass lately and those legs looked quite stocky and strong. Deciding it was best to carry out his deed from the side, then, he walked around to the cow's flank and placed his hands, palm down, on the surprisingly muscled skin. To his surprise, the cow that he thought was asleep turned his or her head, then, to look over at him as he (or she) shifted a little on hooved feet.
"Brian, look out!" Justin warned him as the steer started to pick up speed. "Run, damn it!" he shouted now, not caring how many cows, dogs, or people heard him. "Move!" he told him. "Go!" he screamed in terror.
He watched, unable to turn away, as Brian finally realized there was an angry animal charging directly for him. His eyes bugged out as he hid behind the other cow as long as he could like a child playing tag behind a tree until the animal was only a few feet away and, adrenalin pumping through his veins, he took off like a shot toward the fence.
"Hurry, Brian!" Justin yelled as the steer began to gain on him. "Come on!" He urged him as he held his hand out and motioned for him to speed up. He leaned down as Brian approached, thinking he could try and give him a hand up; all the while, the steer began to actually trot now, his hoofs reverberating in the still, night air. Justin knew it if was colder, he would see the steam rising from the beast's flared nostrils in anger as he kept advancing, faster and faster.
Brian risked a quick look over his shoulder as he continued running as fast as he could, hoping his previous experience in high school track would serve him well now; he could see the animal gaining on him and he wondered fleetingly if he would make it as his lungs threatened to burst from the alcohol-infused exertion. He didn't have time to dwell on that now, though, as he concentrated instead on Justin's face etched with fear as the boy motioned furiously with his right hand for him to keep running.
Finally, just as the steer seemed to be gaining on him and he tilted his head forward with the intention of spearing him squarely in the ass, Brian ran up and grabbed the top of the fence next to Justin and climbed up, bumping his head as he somehow hoisted himself over the top like a pole vaulter just seconds before the animal came up short on the other side, snorting and huffing in fury at being thwarted.
Justin's heart pounded in fear as he twisted his body around and landed on his ass several feet away from Brian on the ground, his chest heaving from the near encounter. He lay there for a few seconds to catch his breath before he finally rose to a sitting position, bracing his upper body by his elbows as he looked over at Brian who lay still and motionless nearby. "Brian?" he called out tentatively. "Are you all right?" He had noticed Brian hitting his head as he had scampered over the fence; had he knocked himself out somehow? "Brian, can you hear me?" he asked, but he received no response; only the sound of the thousands of crickets continuing to chirp, the herd of cows occasionally mooing, and the frustrated steer still huffing on the other side of the fence could be heard as he rose and crawled over to Brian's side on his hands and knees.
Brian was lying there on his back with his hands flung out to his sides, his eyes closed. Justin's heart stopped as he dropped down next to Brian and shook him by the upper arms; he couldn't see any rise and fall of breath from his chest. Alarmed, he began to shake him a little more urgently, but still there was no response. "Oh, my God! Brian! Can you hear me?" He turned his head to place his cheek close to Brian's partly-open mouth, but he couldn't feel any air caressing his skin; there was no noticeable inhaling or exhaling from the other boy's chest. "Brian, talk to me!" he urged him in desperation as he shook him one more time, but again, there was nothing.
Finally, not knowing exactly what to do, he frantically thought back to the CPR training he had received in junior high school as he reached with his right hand to grasp Brian's chin and tilt his head back; reaching in first with his finger to make sure there wasn't anything stuck in Brian's throat, he placed his hands back down on the other boy's shoulders and firmly sealed his lips over Brian's, forcing air into his windpipe. Taking a brief respite to pull back from the soft, warm mouth, he plunged back in, again transferring his breath into Brian. He was so focused on what he was doing that it took his brain a few seconds to register the arms that slowly wrapped themselves around his back as they pushed him down against Brian's chest; Brian's lips suddenly came to life as he plunged his tongue inside Justin's mouth and began to kiss him passionately.
Justin's eyes bulged in realization soon afterward as he used his leverage on Brian's shoulders to launch himself away from him with an indignant sputter. "You!" he cried out. "You... You asshole!" he exclaimed as he twisted his body away from Brian, his lips tingling from the kiss. Brian chuckled at his reaction then, which only made him madder. "You did that on purpose!" he snarled. "I...I thought you were really hurt!" He shoved Brian then in anger as he sat on his knees before propelling himself into a standing position.
Brian laughed at the petulant look on Justin's face. "Come on, Justin! Can't you take a joke? Damn, that was fun!"
Justin folded his arms over his chest. "Ha, ha, yeah, very funny, Brian! Oh, but wait! I'm not laughing!" He twirled around and began to stomp back down toward the farm, not even glancing a look backward; Brian, hesitating only briefly as he decided to leave his prized, half-consumed bottle of moonshine behind, hurriedly rose to his feet and began to rush after him, stumbling a little as he went as he realized his equilibrium wasn't quite stable at the moment.
"Justin... Wait up! Don't be such a sissy!" Oops, he thought as Justin seemed to speed up. Perhaps that wasn't the right thing to say...
"Go back to your aunt and uncle's, Brian!" Justin yelled over his shoulder, feeling humiliated that he had agreed to go with Brian in the first place. At that moment, he felt more like Solomon, the Walkers' loyal beagle trotting sappily after his master, than an intelligent, independent, man... Well, almost a man, anyway.
Brian rolled his eyes as he continued to struggle to catch up with him; apparently Justin was pretty damn fast OFF a horse, too. "You're being ridiculous, Justin! Don't tell me you didn't think that wasn't funny! And don't tell me you didn't enjoy that kiss, either; I KNOW better!"
"Don't flatter yourself!" Justin yelled back, unable to resist taking part in their verbal parrying; Brian just made him so damn mad sometimes. One step forward, two steps back... "Go home and sleep it off!"
"Okay, I will!" Brian retorted as he stopped short and defiantly folded his hands over his chest; he pursed his lips tightly together in longing as he couldn't avoid watching Justin - and his delectable, perfectly-rounded ass - continuing to get farther and farther away from him as he continued down the dirt road back to his house. Yes, he could go out and find practically anyone to fuck tonight if he really wanted to satisfy the physical urges he was feeling - at least if he was willing to walk into what comprised a TOWN around here to find someone. Or he could even go snag that asshole brother of Justin's, Jared, out of his bed, no doubt, and fulfill the other boy's fantasies; that would sort of be poetic justice where Justin was concerned. But at that moment, he only wanted ONE 'fantasy' - the reality of fucking Justin Taylor senseless, over and over again. Something told him that one time with this irascible, stubborn, and thoroughly fascinating boy would never be enough. But he still drove him absolutely crazy, too!
"Have it your way, Taylor!" he shouted back as Justin shook his head in aggravation. "No problem! I'll find someone else to go to sleep WITH!" With a huff of defeat, Brian promptly took a left turn and began to walk back toward his aunt and uncle's property, his lack of success having a somewhat sobering effect on him. He let out a heavy breath as he turned around just long enough to see Justin proceeding toward his own house. Well, that turned out well, he thought with a grimace. Why did he always do that to this other boy? Justin had been nothing but kind to him as well as honest. He had encountered enough virgins - and he was sure at this point that this was, indeed, the case with Justin - to know that they could be uncertain of themselves and possess sentimental, sappy notions about their 'first time.' So why was he making it so hard on him? Was it because he knew for once in his life that he actually CARED about the other boy's feelings and he knew that for someone like Justin the circumstances would mean a lot to him? "Shit," he muttered as he raked one hand through his hair and sighed. "Why did I have to get involved with HIM?" he wondered as he slowly made his way back to his aunt and uncle's house; except for the moonlight and stars above, the house was surrounded by total darkness in the early morning hour. Walking up to the back gate, he lifted the old-fashioned, metal bar to unlock it and made his way up to the back door. Luckily finding it still unlocked from when he had left before, he slipped inside; ten minutes later, lulled partly by the high-alcohol-content liquor he had ingested and his impromptu track dash to the fence to escape from Diablo, he closed his eyes and drifted off to sleep, dreaming of a particularly vexing but beautiful boy.
Justin sighed as he continued walking back to the house, still trying to decide if he had done the right thing by rejecting Brian's obvious invitation to fuck. But that was the problem, he supposed; it had been an offer to fuck, and with Brian half-inebriated to boot. What sort of first time would that be? How memorable would it be, to know that he had had sex for the first time with a guy who most likely wouldn't even recall what they had done the next day? He had to admit, though; it had hurt when Brian suggested that he would go find someone else to take care of his needs. Just the idea that the boy he was so infatuated with would think so little of him to go find someone else at a moment's notice only solidified his feeling that he had been right not to follow through on what his body - and his heart - was so desperately wanting him to do.
Brian could be such a conundrum at times; cocky, rebellious, headstrong (just like his horse), arrogant, and outrageously independent and uncaring of what others might do or think. At times, though, he would show just a glimmer to him of someone else: vulnerable, caring, funny, and even uncertain of himself. It was that Brian that he was quickly becoming irrevocably attracted to, and it was that version that he so desperately wanted to be with for his first time. The big question was: which Brian Kinney WAS he? The one he projected himself to be to others, or the one he allowed himself to be when he showed just a small, other part of him? "Will the real Brian Kinney please stand up?" he murmured wearily as he walked up to the back, white-picket fence gate and let himself in.
Walking up the steps to the house a few seconds later, he was about to grasp the round, metal knob of the back screen door when the exterior door suddenly opened and he found himself peering into the instantly recognizable silhouette of his father. A light came on over the kitchen table immediately afterward, and he could see his mother peering over anxiously at him, concern creased across her forehead. His father opened the screen door and it was then that he saw his brother joining their mother's side at the table, a sort of satisfied smirk on his face.
"Justin," Craig said with deadly calm, his eyes cold and steely as he scrutinized his son's bare-chested appearance. "Come in and sit down - NOW."
Justin swallowed at the hard tone in his father's voice as he slid past his rigid form and walked the few feet over to the kitchen table to sit down across from his brother. Jared glared at him haughtily as their father closed the back door and walked over to sit down opposite Jen at the end of the table.
"Where have you been, Justin?" he asked quietly, a vein throbbing in his neck. Jared had awakened both him and Jen up approximately an hour ago to tell them that their youngest son had left the house with the Kinney boy for parts unknown; not only that, but the other boy apparently had a bottle of booze with him.
Justin shifted his eyes nervously over to his mother, who it seemed like was deliberately avoiding his gaze; not a good sign. "I... I took a walk," he finally said as he thought he heard his brother snort under his breath.
"You took a walk," Craig repeated slowly. "Without your shirt? Who were you with?" he asked as his eyes bored into his son's.
Justin looked over at his brother, who had a slight, smug-looking smile on his face, and in that instant he knew; somehow Jared must have seen him and Brian walking away from the house earlier, and he had wasted no time letting their father and mother know about it. Knowing that it was no use to lie about it, he turned to look at his father as he admitted. "I was with Brian. And it was hot out."
Craig's face darkened in anger; somehow he knew the Walkers' nephew would be trouble from the moment he saw him.
Jared snickered at the double entendre. "Yeah, I'll bet 'it' was hot, all right; see, I told you!" he interjected, stoking the tendrils of suspicion even more.
"You asshole!" Justin snapped at him, furious that his brother would rat on him. What happened to the times when they used to stand up for each other?
"Justin, I will NOT tolerate that sort of language in this household," Craig told him sternly as he brushed his hand through his hair in annoyance. "Apologize to your brother right now."
"I will NOT!" he protested to his father's shock, his eyes flashing. "He uses the same language to ME when you're not around!"
Jared grinned over at him unbeknownst to their father, thoroughly enjoying his younger brother's predicament. "No, I don't," he argued, issuing an outright lie.
"Jared, please, you are not helping," Jennifer told him as she held up her hand in an attempt to get her two sons to stop. "Why don't you go back to bed? We'll handle this."
Jared's grin faded in disappointment; that was not what he had in mind. He wanted to hear every marvelous detail regarding his brother's punishment, because he was certain it was forthcoming. "But..."
"Craig," Jennifer called out her husband's name as a call for backup, hoping he would at least see the reason in her request and agree with her. There was no need now for Jared to stay; it would merely be a way for her son to taunt his brother even more, she was sure of it. The least she could do was see that Justin didn't have to sit there and feel humiliated as a result. "Tell him to go to bed." She eyed him unflinchingly as she waited for him to respond.
Craig grunted slightly, a little put out that his wife - his subordinate - was trying to at least indirectly give him an order. But he knew what Jared was trying to do, and while Justin was clearly out of line to sneak out of the house to meet up with that Kinney boy, there was no real reason for him to remain simply to antagonize him. "You heard your mother, Jared," he finally stated brusquely.
Jared huffed indignantly as his mouth hung open slightly in disbelief. "But I was the one..."
"Do it," Craig told him tersely. "Don't make me say it again." The unspoken 'or else' hung there, heavy and thick with tension, as Jared glared over at his brother before he stood up and pushed the chair back roughly, away from the table.
"Fine," he bit out as he looked over at his brother, his jealousy still eating away at him like an acid. "But don't think you're going to squirm out of this one, Mr. High and Mighty." Jennifer sighed in frustration over her older son's attitude before he turned and stomped down the hallway; several seconds later, there was a slamming of his bedroom door before silence once more reigned at the table. It was an edgy, anxiety-driven silence, however, before anyone spoke up again. This time, however, it was Jennifer who spoke as she reached out and grasped Justin's hand in hers from across the table.
"Justin, do you want to tell us why you sneaked out of the house to meet up with the Walkers' nephew?"
Justin bristled at the word. "I didn't sneak out of the house," he corrected her as he pulled his hand away from hers and placed both of his under the table in his lap.
"Then how would you describe it, Justin?" Craig pressed. "You don't normally make it a habit to take a stroll at midnight wearing only your pants and sneakers, do you?" At least his son had been wearing that, he thought.
"Craig..."
"No, let me finish, Jennifer," Craig told his wife as he held his hand up for control. He stared over at his son, who eyed him back defiantly, his arms now crossed over his bare chest. "I can't wait to hear how you wound up outside with that other boy, Justin, especially when you knew you had to be up early tomorrow - or should I say today now - to practice with Headstrong. What were you thinking?"
Justin huffed, suddenly feeling like he was some serf working off his debt. "I wasn't planning on going outside," he told him stiffly. How was he going to explain this without getting himself - and Brian - in more trouble? Perhaps just a bit of a white lie was in order. "Brian helped deliver Checkers' cow this afternoon for his uncle," he explained. "And he was having trouble sleeping tonight after all the excitement, so he walked over here to see if I wanted to join him outside."
"Join him outside to do what? And how did you know he was there to begin with? Were you waiting for him somehow?"
"No, I wasn't waiting for him," he told his parents as he rolled his eyes in aggravation. "He... he came over and threw some pebbles at my window to get my attention."
Jennifer couldn't help covering her mouth in amusement as Justin described the Romeo-and-Juliet type greeting; it was quite charming in a way, she decided; kind of like an old-fashioned wooing. But somehow she had an idea that neither her son nor the Walkers' nephew would appreciate having their tryst thought of in that way. And something told her that was exactly what it had been; this Kinney boy was obviously smitten with her son.
"This isn't funny, Jennifer," Craig reprimanded her sternly as his eyes bored into his insolent son's. "Just what were you and Kinney doing tonight, Justin? Was there drinking involved?"
Damn you, Jared, Justin thought scornfully. Obviously he had been the source of that information. "No, I wasn't drinking," he told his father, which was true as far as it went.
Unfortunately, however, Craig wasn't settling for that ambiguous answer. "What about Kinney?"
"What about him?"
"Don't be a smart aleck, Justin; answer the question!" Craig yelled as Jennifer reached over to grab his arm in a silent bid to get him to calm down. Craig took a deep breath and let it out before he asked a little more quietly, "Was Kinney drinking tonight or not?"
Shit. Justin looked over to his mother now for support, but to his dismay he didn't find any. "Just answer the question, Honey," she urged him with a sympathetic gaze. "The Walkers have a right to know, since he's staying with them."
Justin pressed his lips into a tight line and sat there fuming for a few seconds as he pondered what to say. Should he tell his parents they were wrong and that Brian hadn't been drinking? If he told them that, however, he had a good suspicion that his father would call over to the Walkers right now - late hour be damned - and verify it for himself. If he did, it would be obvious from Brian's state that he had, indeed, discovered Dale's old stash of moonshine. Jared had to have seen the liquor bottle, also, so they would know that one of them was lying anyway. He sighed; it appeared there was no way around it; he only had to hope that Brian's aunt and uncle wouldn't come down too hard on him when they DID find out. Even though he and Brian had parted on less-than-amicable terms earlier, he still cared about him. Damn it.
He let out a breath before he admitted, "Yeah. Okay. Brian had a few drinks. What's the big deal?"
"What's the big deal?" Craig yelled, incredulous. "He's underage, Justin! Where did he even get the stuff?"
Justin was tempted to tell him that he didn't know, but he also knew his father wouldn't quit until he found out. Perhaps it wasn't too late to right one particular wrong, however. "He apparently found some of Dale's old moonshine stash down in the Walkers' basement," he divulged. "You know; the corn liquor that he and Jared concocted out of some of his old car parts a few years ago?"
Jennifer gasped in shock. "What?"
Justin gazed over at them in satisfaction; if Brian was going down with the sinking ship, then so was Jared. "You heard me. Jared was the one who found all the spare parts that Dale needed to make the still in the first place; they hid it out in the storage shed behind an old tarp and dragged it out whenever Dale's father had to go into town for supplies. They sometimes used it after dark, too, when everyone else was asleep, and hid all the bottles downstairs in an old pantry cupboard that Mrs. Walker wasn't using anymore."
Craig's eyes narrowed in suspicion. "How do YOU know all that, Justin?"
"Because Jared told me," he replied firmly, leaving no doubt that he was telling the truth. "In fact, he was really proud of it at the time. He even showed me a few bottles and let me take a sip; I hated the taste, though, and that was the last time I tried any. Jared seemed to really like it, though," he added just for good measure.
"And just why would he trust you not to tell us?" Craig pointed out.
"Come on, Dad! Back when it happened, I was thirteen years ago. I didn't know what a jerk Jared was until later."
"Justin..."
"Well, it's true, Mom! Besides, who would you have believed? Me or Jared?"
"You could have come to us, Justin..." Jennifer assured him, although there was a niggling doubt in the back of her mind that perhaps he was right; back then, Jared could do no wrong, at least in Craig's eyes. If he would have denied Justin's allegations, there was a good - better than good - chance that Craig would have believed Jared over him.
"We'll discuss that with your brother tomorrow," Craig told him. "And don't think I won't talk to the Walkers about this, either; and starting right now, except for participating in the race this coming Saturday and doing your chores, you're grounded for the next month and you're forbidden to see this Kinney boy at all during that time; no outdoor activities, no horseback riding, no town social, no swimming, no ATV riding, period. Do you understand?"
Justin's mouth fell open. Hell, no! "I won't do it," he stated flatly to his father's astonishment.
"What did you say?" he growled as Jennifer's eyes widened in surprise.
"I said no. Brian didn't do anything wrong, and I actually had some fun for a change! You can't forbid me to see him."
"Oh, yes, we can!" Craig countered. "Either you do as we say or..."
"Or what, Dad?" Justin replied, his own voice rising in anger. "You'll lock me up in my room for the next month so I can't do anything or be 'exposed' to Brian's bad influence? Fine. You do that. And, oh, in the meantime, find someone else to race Headstrong while you're at it, too."
Jennifer's eyes widened at the almost threatening tone of her normally easygoing son's voice. "Justin..."
"No, no, Jen, I want to make sure I heard him right," Craig said as he raised his hand and interrupted her. "What did you just say?"
"I said... Okay. Go ahead and ground me, Dad. But if I'm confined to my room for the next month, I won't be riding in any races, either."
"Is that so?" Craig challenged him, thinking his son would back down like he normally did. "If you don't, you'll be confined to your room for the entire month without so much as a piece of paper or a crayon to keep you amused! Is that what you want?"
"Craig, enough!" Jennifer lashed out then as Justin's face turned red with anger; she was unable to sit still any longer, especially at the mention of depriving their son of what he loved the most. "I thought we had talked about this," she reminded him, thoroughly annoyed. She wasn't quite convinced that Brian was totally harmless and wouldn't be a bad influence on her son, but it was obvious that Justin cared for him and from what Sarah had been telling her, he didn't sound like such a bad kid.
Craig's brow furrowed. "What are you talking about, Jen? I'm talking about Justin disobeying us."
Justin tried to open his mouth to protest that he had done no such thing - was there a 'lights-out' curfew in the house that he hadn't been told about? - but he didn't get the chance.
"How did he disobey us, Craig? Justin's done everything that we have asked of him; he's worked out with Headstrong religiously, done all of his chores as requested, and even helped out the Walkers with their cow as well as done most of the repainting of the fence. So he crept out of the house to meet up with Brian, who asked him to come outside. And he's admitted that Brian stole some of Dale's old moonshine from the Walkers' basement. As I recall, Craig Taylor, you, too, had a taste of some of the same kind of stuff when YOU were underage, too. Did that make you a criminal or an immoral person?"
Craig bristled at her tone of voice. "That's different," he maintained stiffly.
Justin, meanwhile, continued to sit there with his hands crossed over his chest as he listened attentively to his parents battling it out over him.
"How is it different, Craig? What exactly has our son done wrong?"
Craig sputtered in indignation. "It's different, Jen, because he's associating with a known felon!"
"Oh, for..." Justin growled in protest then, but Jen held up her hand for him to wait, and he followed her direction.
"For God's sake, Craig! You make the Kinney boy sound like he's been doing hard time for robbery and assault! He's a nineteen-year-old-kid who, from what Sarah told me, made a mistake. He's trying to make up for that now by helping them rather than languishing in a jail cell somewhere, and from what she told me, he's been a big help to them. I admit that perhaps he's maybe not the best role model for Justin to emulate, but..."
Craig laughed as he shook his head. "Role model? Yeah, he's a role model, all right!"
"Uh, excuse me?" Justin finally interceded as held his hands up by his sides, unable to stand it anymore. "I'm still in the room, remember? And you can do what you want with me, Dad; and so can I. I'm not some little kid who will cower at your feet; you might be able to keep me locked up in my room, but you can't sit my ass down on that sulky seat and make me race. And Jared isn't exactly blameless in this whole thing, either; if he and Dale hadn't made that booze in the first place, Brian wouldn't have found it. So how are you going to punish him? Or will it just be me as usual?"
Craig's nostrils flared in anger. "Watch your mouth, Justin!" he yelled, rubbing the back of his neck with his left hand as he felt a headache coming on. This insubordination from his youngest son had taken him aback; when did Justin develop such a backbone for standing up for himself? As much as he loathed admitting it, though, his son was right. He had him over a barrel; if he grounded him, he would refuse to race, and if he did that, any prize money which they frequently won would be down the drain, and so would this farm. And while his wife had more sentimental ties to it than he did, he still didn't want to wind up out on the street somewhere, penniless and homeless, which was a distinct possibility without their youngest son's prize money. Jared certainly couldn't ride; he was much too big-boned and heavy for sulky riding, and not coordinated enough. And besides, Headstrong hated him with a passion; he won't let him anywhere near him and starts to chuff and paw the ground if he tries to approach him.
He sighed in defeat as Justin glared back at him without blinking. "You know I still don't trust that boy..."
Justin knew the sound of capitulation when he heard it as he tried hard not to smile in triumph. Cha-ching! "I'm not asking you to trust him; I'm asking you to trust ME."
"He's right, Craig; Justin has never given us any trouble or any cause to distrust him. There was no harm done here, except that our son needs to get a little more sleep in preparation for Red Mill. And Brian's not the first one to experience the joys of moonshine - right?" Jennifer asked pointedly, remembering when her husband used to regale her with tales of him sneaking out behind his childhood home to check out the next-door neighbor's moonshine-making capabilities, much like Brian had done tonight. Only he apparently hadn't been directly involved with making it - unlike their other son. Which led her to another matter...
"Are we going to just let this go, then, Craig? It's really late as it is, and I'm sure Justin will work at getting to bed at a reasonable hour tomorrow - after the town social, that is." She made no mistake from the tone of her voice that ALL the family would be attending, including Justin. Something told her that wild horses - or surly fathers in his case - couldn't keep him away, especially with Brian reportedly coming with his aunt and uncle. "Craig?" she repeated when her husband just sat there glumly.
He rolled his eyes, wondering how something so black and white had changed all of a sudden. "Yes, all right!" he agreed to Justin's delight. "But you promise me, Justin, that you will NOT let that Kinney boy drag you into something illegal or dangerous, you understand?"
Does cow tipping count? Justin couldn't help thinking as he recalled Brian's escapade earlier. He thought it was best that he not mention that, but there was ONE other matter that needed to be settled. "Okay," he agreed. "But I'm not going to stop seeing or talking to him. And I don't want you getting him into trouble with his aunt and uncle, either; he did nothing wrong."
"Well, I tend to disagree with that," Craig retorted, but he knew Justin would follow through on his vow not to race if he did tell them. "But all right," he said through gritted teeth. "I will keep quiet about it as long as he doesn't pull you into any more of his schemes."
Justin shook his head; not agreeing with his father's choice of words, but it would have to do; at least Brian wouldn't be penalized for his foray into the wonders of homemade booze. "And what about Jared?"
"Jared?" Craig replied dumbly, even though he suspected he knew what Justin meant.
"Yes, Jared, the one who helped make the moonshine in the first place. He's really good at tattling on me and Brian, but what's his punishment going to be?"
"That was years ago, Justin!" Craig pointed out as Jennifer sighed in disgust over yet another example of her husband's favoritism; she had hoped after their last talk that some of it had sunk in, but apparently not enough. At the sound of his wife's disapproval, Craig sighed heavily. "All right, all right; I'll talk to him."
"You'll talk to him," Justin repeated, figuring where THAT would lead: nowhere. What a surprise.
"Yes, Justin, I will talk to him; what more do you expect?" he asked in exasperation.
Justin scooted back from the table. "Nothing more than what I always get," he replied softly. He looked over at his mother's face - a mixture of sympathy and disappointment over his father's response - before he turned and walked away.
At the sound of his brother's footsteps coming down the hall, Jared quickly stood up from his seated position at the top of the steps and hurried back to his room, having closed the door earlier but electing to stay within earshot of the events downstairs. As he quietly opened and then closed it behind him, he stood there in simmering contemplation, his face dark with anger. His plan to get his brother away from the Walkers' nephew had failed abysmally; in fact, it appeared now that HE might be the one in trouble. Well, he wasn't too worried; his father would give him the customary and obligatory 'you shouldn't have done that' slap on the wrist before things would go back to normal. Now all he had to do was formulate another plan to keep his brother away from Kinney.
He smiled as he remembered his mother telling him earlier at the kitchen table that Emmett, that obnoxious lapdog nephew of Vic's, was coming back to visit. When he had heard, it had just made his mood even MORE sour; now, however, he decided that he might as well use the boy's adoration of him to his advantage. He smirked. Game on, Squirt.
Chapter End Notes:
I know, I know - I fully planned on getting to the town social in this part, but I was up to 12,000 words with no social in sight - ha! So (admitting sheepishly - sorry, can't 't avoid using 'farm language') I will have to include that in the next chapter. I promise to update again soon, though. Thank you as always for reading and for your support.:) And thanks to boriqua522 for being my beta.:)