After talking with Mrs. Dion they didn’t stay at the school very long.

Their talk in the office should have gone on longer. But after what Mrs. Dion said, Soffia just got up, took her husband by the hand, and left. She didn’t say or do anything; she just got up and left.

And they should be ecstatic that’s all she did.

Because from the way his mom had looked, it had taken everything that she had not to leap across that desk and strangle Mrs. Dion until she was blue in the face.

They left so fast that his dad could only vaguely promise Mrs. Dion that he would " talk to Isaac” before he was forced out of the room.

And then, with a final tug of the arm, he was gone.

Isaac, seeing no reason to stay, gave his goodbye to Mrs. Dion, grinning as he followed after his parents.

There were still a few hours of classes left, but Isaac didn't see anybody try to stop him, so he decided to treat it like a half-day. He still had to come back tomorrow, though.

Apparently, his guidance counselor is going to go over what schools he can still attend with him. She’s supposed to help him choose what school he likes and then contact them with his answer.

After leaving the school, they immediately hopped in the car, where his mom only had to say “ Drive” before they were off.

It was a very quiet drive home.

Which was bad for Isaac; car rides always made him sleepy and taking a nap right now is not a very good idea.

And, let it be known that Isaac was, in fact, not stupid. He knew when it was okay to joke around and when it wasn’t. It's just that most of the time, he didn’t care.

But there were times when he had to acknowledge that some things just shouldn’t happen.

Falling asleep in a car with your angry parents is one of them.

But besides his mom stewing angrily in the front seat, it was a pretty peaceful drive. The lunch rush had just ended, so the streets were empty as his dad drove them home. And compared to a city like Houston, Lubbock barely had any traffic to begin with.

Looking out the window as they drove past, Isaac wondered what Luci would do next year. He didn't want to sound mean, but he was her only friend.

In fact, She was more of a loner than he was.

Not that Isaac thought himself a loner. No, loners tried to stay away from people; people stayed away from him.

Now, some people might think that people stayed away from Isaac because he was a violent kid who got into fights, but that wasn't true at all.

People stayed away from Isaac because he was annoying, not because he got into fights. Not that he didn't get into fights, but there weren’t many people to fight with in Rain Widle. But if you got past Isaac's general deposition, you would find he was a pretty nice guy.

Luci, on the other hand, pushed people away by not being a very nice person. She’ll rip into some poor kid faster than a shark if she gets a chance.

And don’t let her find something you're sensitive about cause if she smells blood in the water, she’ll go for the jugular.

Without someone like Isaac to bring her out of her shell, she’ll just turn into another goth loner sitting by themselves in dark corners reading books, putting on dark eyeliner, and being generally unhappy.

Okay, she already did that, but Isaac's shiny demeanor offsets all her snarky and moody thoughts, so it balances out.

At the end of the day, Luci needs Isaac to brighten up her day, or she will kill somebody.

Heh, and good luck finding somebody to replace him. It took Isaac almost an entire year for Luci to begrudgingly let him hang around her. And Isaac still thinks it was because she believed that not letting him would be an even bigger headache than if she would let him.

Not saying that she was wrong, just that Isaac had to be very annoying and very persistent to achieve “the privilege of being in her general vicinity”; her words not his.

Man, he’s going to miss her; everything was so much more fun when she was around. Now everything is just going to be so boring without her.

Feeling the car take a turn, Isaac looked out the window and saw that they were already turning into their driveway. Without him even noticing, they had already made it home.

Resting his head against the cool glass window of the car, Isaac couldn't help but think that sometimes his family could be a little cruel.

The pranks and jokes they do are never really done with malicious intent; it's just that their sense of humor doesn’t really translate well to other people.

Their house is the perfect example. Normally giving a house as a present is being generous. But when you see the house they live in, you can't help but feel that it's…a little out of place compared to other houses in the neighborhood.

They lived in a nice neighborhood with nice little houses and a park down the street. It was a nice, quiet, low-middle-income neighborhood.

Then there was their house, a beautiful two-story house covered in smooth-as-glass stucco and accented by stained wood siding. With a five-car garage and a pool in the back, it is literally the most expensive house in the neighborhood.

The house was so big that during the day, it cast shadows completely covering the houses next to it.

The house is a standing symbol for Patrick, letting him know that he is a Cantor.

Or at least, that’s what they told his dad.

Isaac thinks that it was actually meant as a joke. They weren’t trying to be mean, probably.. maybe? It's a very Cantor-style joke to make a big house fun of the new guy, but the house has kind of put his dad in a poor situation.

To start with, it’s a big house that Patrick was never going to be able to afford, and then it was put in a neighborhood that didn’t match its style or price. That, plus the general nature of the Cantors, made all their neighbors believe that his parents were arrogant people who liked to lord their money over people.

The house takes up two lots; for god’s sake, there weren’t even two empty lots when they started building. They had to buy two houses, move the people living there, and then bulldoze them down before they could even start building the house.

Not to mention that their house inadvertently raised the housing prices in their neighborhood. It wasn’t much, but it was enough that a few people got their rent raised out of nowhere.

So yeah, it's a great house and a weird and expensive joke for the family.

After opening the garage door, Patrick quickly drove inside, not wanting the neighbors to see them. Soffia, still mad, didn't even wait for the car to stop before jumping out and stomping her way into the house, slamming doors behind her as she went.

Patrick, already used to her temper, just finished parking. Turning off the car, Patrick took a second, sighed, and then followed after Soffia. When he was closing the driver's side door, he glanced at Isaac and saw that he wasn’t going to follow them, so he closed the door and left Isaac there.

Still in the car, Isaac sat quietly in the back, resting his head against the seat. He wanted to enjoy the silence a little bit longer—you know, before he steps into a warzone.

His parents loved each other, but they were also two completely different people. And while two different pieces can sometimes come together, they can also collide.

His parents, more often than not, collided.

It's never fun hearing your parents argue, and it's even worse when you see it. You hear them in your room and wonder, is this the fight when they break up? Every scream and slamming of the door makes your blood race with fear that something bad is happening.

When you see them in each other's faces, yelling hurtful things at each other, you get afraid. You get afraid that one of them will say something or do something that can never be taken back, and you won't be able to stop them.

You’re afraid, believing that it's your responsibility to step in and stop them from arguing, but that if you do, then their anger will be on you. Then you become afraid that, even though you're standing right there, you would have missed your chance to step in and stop this from getting worse.

And when you know that it's your fault that they are arguing, the guilt inside you eats away until you wonder why you're even alive.

Isaac hates being the reason why his parents argued. He knows that it’s his fault, that if he just changed how he acted, that they would be happier.

But he doesn't.

Because Isaac decided a long time ago that his happiness was more important than his parents.

Being able to do whatever you want also means accepting the consequences of your actions; that’s what it means to be a Cantor.

At least that’s what Grandpa Jaime used to say. He always told everyone to “ Do what you want, but be prepared to take responsibility.” That is how all the Cantors lived.

His Tio Julio couldn’t keep it in his pants, always with some other women. And sometimes, when these women came back pregnant, what did he do?

He took responsibility. To this day, he has four wives and ten children, almost all from different mothers.

Great-Tia Mari loved stealing things; doesn’t matter what, as long as it's someone else's, she’ll steal it. Currently, she is serving her final year of a five-year sentence, almost completing her twelfth time in jail.

Did she put up a fight when the police came to get her? No, she gladly admitted to all crimes and peacefully went to jail; no fuss needed.

The Cantor are a strange bunch. They know it; no one needs to tell them. And part of that strangeness is an unusually high amount of empathy.

They feel the pain and trouble that they inflict on people. They know what they are doing is wrong, and if they could stop, many would.

It's just that they also really love causing chaos. They love being crazy, and they love being strange. They’ll never stop doing the things that they love, so the only thing that they can do is gladly accept their punishments.

This guilt is just part of Isaac’s punishment.

Feeling that he’d wasted enough time stewing in his thoughts, Isaac finally got out of the car and started heading inside. If he had waited any longer, one of them might have come out to get him, and that certainly would have made things worse.

Walking past all the bikes and boxes clustering their garage, Isaac reached the door leading inside the house. Before he even opened the door, Isaac could already hear their voices shouting from inside.

It's not like the door to the garage directly connects to the house; you first walk through the laundry room and then past the sunroom before you can even get into the house. So, to hear them from the garage means they must be pretty loud.

Walking through the house, Isaac began to hear them more clearly as he got closer.

“-Not sending him away, Patrick! A Cantor stays in Lubbock!”

“ What do you want him to do then? He can’t just not go! How is he ever going to get a job if he doesn't at least graduate High school?!”

“ Who Cares? Let him work with Tony! He doesn't have to go-”

“ I am not sending him to work with your brother; he needs more than what your family can give him! My son has more options-!”

“What's wrong with him working for the family? Your work with them!”

“ No, I work for your family !”

“ Don’t start that! They were kind enough to give you a job, and you can be glad-!”

Rounding the corner, Isaac looked into the living room where his parents were already at each other's throats, screaming their heads off. It made an interesting site, his short mom against his taller dad towering over her.

Now, most people would be surprised to know his parents get into fights; many of them probably think that his dad wasn’t the type even to get angry.

But even if he doesn’t show it in public, his dad could get pretty heated if he wanted to, just like right now.

The genuine version of this novel can be found on another site. Support the author by reading it there.

“ I am surrounded by your family everywhere I turn. There is not a place that I can go to where another one isn’t around the corner, ready to fuck with me!”

“ Oh, Please! Grow up, they’re just messing with you!”

“ All they do is mess with me. It’s the Cantor’s that needs to grow up, and that is what I am trying to teach my son, To Grow Up!”

“ And what about me?! Huh! Do I need to “grow up”?! Am I just “messing with you”?!”

“ THis!-This isn’t about you. This is about my son not going to high school.”

“ There it is again! Your Son, he isn’t just your son. He is a Cantor! And a Cantor-”

“ I DON'T WANT HIM TO BE JUST ANOTHER CANTOR!!”

At this point, his dad was almost bent over, screaming in Soffia's face. His face was turning an unhealthy shade of red from all the screaming he was doing. His hands were clenched tight at his sides as his breaths came out in rapid gasps.

Soffia saw how angry her husband was; she wasn’t any better. If she weren’t holding herself back, she would have already broken his nose on her fist. That’s why fights with Patrick were always so difficult; everything had to be done slowly with him.

If he were a Cantor, they would have already settled this by now—a couple of hits and then a few drinks afterward, and then everything is okay afterwards.

But Patrick wasn’t a Cantor; he was more sensitive than that. It's what she loves about him, that he isn’t like her family. She never wants that to change; she’d rather he stay as he is over what others would prefer him to be.

That he can show that he cares and not throw in a confetti canon just because, yes, there are times that they will fight, and that's okay because, at the end of the day, Soffia knows that they will always love each other.

It’s just-he..he just doesn't understand how her family does things; part of it is that he can't, while the other is that he just doesn’t want to.

There are times like these were he just has to let these things go, and he can’t accept that. He tries so hard to change how their family behaves, and at times, it's sweet in its own way. But if he keeps pushing her to the edge, she might just say to hell with it and take a leap off that edge.

Show him how a Cantor really settles things.

Then, just as she was about to, something caught her eye. Isaac was standing there against the wall, watching his parents raise hell at each other. It stopped her and made her think about what she was doing. Their fighting wasn’t anything new; they usually fought at least once a week.

Not that that was a bad thing. In fact, Soffia felt like their fights actually helped their marriage, kept things interesting. But she has never wanted to hit her husband like this before.

That bitch must have really got on her nerves if she was already thinking of hurting her husband. Just another to hate her.

Looking back at Isaac, she could see how this was affecting him. Cantors are emotional people; they wear their hearts on their sleeves. So, seeing how worried and tense her son was watching them fight made her heart twist deep in her chest.

Teenage years are hard for Cantors; it’s the time in their life when new emotions rear their head and tear them apart. A time when they feel like nothing that they do is right. Dout and depressing and ruin a Cantor's life far worse than anything else in this world.

Soffia wants to show her son that how they live their life isn’t wrong. Something that punching his dad definitely wouldn’t help.

Taking a deep breath, Soffia tried to calm down. She had to be the better person, show her son that nothing was wrong, no matter how she felt. So gritting her teeth, Soffia took a deep breath and said.

“ Isaac is a Cantor; whether you like it or not, nothing is going to change that. He will stay here, and either he gets lucky and gets into a school in Lubbock, or he starts helping the family.”

“ That is not your decision to make.” Patrick, lowering his voice, said.

“ It doesn’t matter what you think. When you married into the family, you knew that there were going to be things that you wouldn’t like. This is one of them; Isaac will not be leaving.” Soffia said.

Partick growled; he couldn’t understand why his wife, no, why the whole Cantor family had to be so stubborn. It's like they live in their own little world, and everyone else just has to follow along.

But now, their little world was crumbling down. Everyone knows this, and many people are not going to let them just carry on like nothings changed. Whether they like it or not, things are going to change, and if they keep on doing the same thing that they have always been doing, then they are going to end up in a lot of trouble.

“ You can’t keep protecting him, Soffia.” Patrick tried telling her.

But Soffia was unmoved; nothing that he could say was going to change her mind.

“ Whatever. Let's stop talking about this now, ok?”

Now that she had calmed down, Soffia didn’t feel like arguing anymore. This how balc and forth was stupid. The decision was already made, and there was no use in arguing about it.

A Cantor never leaves Lubbock.

Steeping forward, Soffia gave Patrick a big hug around the waist. Holding him tightly she wanted him to know that they were done fighting, that everything was okay now.

But Patrick didn’t feel that way.

“ Soffia, Stop!” He said, pulling her arms off of him.

“ What?” She asked, confused.

Looking down into her eyes, Patrick almost let it go. He should have just let it go, moved on, and gone about his day, never trying to bring this up again. Look, already her brand new smile was being wiped off her face, and it was all his fault.

Her soft brown eyes looked so lost as she stared back into his eyes. Asking him why, why was he pushing her away.

But he couldn’t just move past this. He tried bringing this up before, trying to talk to her before they went to sleep, but he.. just couldn’t say the words. He’d always stop short and tell her never mind.

This time, he couldn’t back down; he had to convince her that things were not going to be like they were.

Not anymore.

“ Soffia, you know that they are using Isaac as an example.” He said. Still hoping that she would get what he was trying to say without him having to say it.

But Soffia just scoffed. “ So, what? Cantor’s aren’t afraid of a little bit of trouble.”

Smiling up at him, Soffia tapped him on the chest. “ Plus, this isn’t the first time they’ve tried that. Heck, they try to get a couple of us in jail every few years.”

“We’ll be fine, Patrick.” Smiling at Patrick she went to hug him again, trying to reassure him.

But he didn’t let up. Grabbing her hands before they could wrap around him, Patrick brought them to his chest, holding them there so that she could look at his face.

“ NO, it won't be Soffia, Not with-.” He tried to say, but the words were caught in his throat.

But it was enough. Patrick could see in her eyes that she knew what he was trying to say. And she didn’t like it.

She was getting mad again; even Isaac from the hallway could see that. Tearing her hands away from him, Soffia reached out, grabbed Partick by his shirt, and dragged him down. She brought him to her face, so close that their noses were almost touching.

Looking him deep into his eyes, she wanted him to see just how angry she was. Her eyes were a mad flurry of movement as she searched every inch of his face for a speck of reason for why he was saying this.

“ With what!? Patrick, what were you going to say.” She was daring him, daring him to finish what he was going to say.

Patrick, feeling that he had to get it off his chest at least, continued.

“ Jaime died, Soffia, and the city is-” But before he could finish his sentence, Soffia was already moving.

A loud, crisp slap echoed out in the house, cutting off Patrik before he could say another word. Soffia slapped him across the face, not wanting to hear another word out of his mouth. She hit him with everything she had, turning his head to the side as a red handprint glowed on his face.

Not wanting to do anything she might regret, Soffia turned and walked away. Leaving Patrick alone in the living room. A few seconds after she left, a loud bang followed, she locked herself in their room, slamming the door behind her.

Sighing, Patrick could only walk in the opposite direction, waiting until she calmed down before trying to talk to her again. He still believed that he was right in what he was saying, but he also knew that right now, Soffia wasn’t ready to listen to what he had to say.

Alone in the hallway, Isaac could only imagine what his mom was thinking.

Great-grandpa Jaime died six months ago. He was Seventy-three years old when he died in his sleep. Having lived through the great depression, multiple wars, and the moon landing, he was the oldest living person in the family.

Six kids, twenty-seven grandkids, and seventy-two great-grandchildren. All of them there by his side, no one wanting to miss a single second as he lay there in his bed.

Isaac could still remember everyone crowding around Grandpa’s house for the entire month of November. Tents littered their yard for people to sleep. The space inside the house was almost nonexistent as everyone piled in, waiting for their chance to be with Grandpa.

The entire Cantor business ground to a halt as everyone refused to spend even a second away from Granpa Jaime.

Chuckling to himself, Isaac could still feel his shoulders being squeezed on both sides as him and his sisters were squished together at the dinner table with all of their other cousins, all fighting for more space.

Everyone was crying, the morning after they found him. Man, the noise they made must have sounded like a tornado siren. They almost woke up the entire city because they were so loud.

But what could you do? They were sad. Grandpa Jaime was the glue that held them all together. He made them what they were today, and now he was gone.

After the funeral, it became almost an unspoken rule not to bring up his death. Everyone seemed to just want to remember the good times when he was still alive and healthy.

It's why his mom refuses to even talk about his death; it’s like they're trying to keep him alive, in their own way.

But Isaac also understood what his dad was saying. Grandpa Jaime was old, old enough to see this city when it was still a baby. And it’s because he’s so old that he was able to affect the city this much.

Granda Jaime did so much for this city. He didn’t only build their homes; he was also a very charitable guy. If someone needed help, he helped them in any way he could, extending payments, free remodels, you name it.

Once, he, with the rest of the family, built an entire neighborhood of houses that he then gave out for free to whoever needed it.

All of that led to him making a lot of friends, friends that would later help him keep his children and their children out of jail because of their practical jokes.

Grandpa’s friends knew that Cantors were a wild bunch, but they were a kind, wild bunch. They agreed with Jaime that his family didn’t need to be vilified, just “directed”. So long as any damage was fixed and paid for, then the Cantors could avoid jail time, you know, as long as it was nothing too serious.

But the old guards were changing. Old friends were stepping down, and new ones were taking their place. And now, with Granpa dead, a lot of goodwill towards the Cantors was starting to fade.

His mom didn’t want to talk about it, but Granpa Jaimes's death might have a greater lasting impact than they think on the family.

Wiping his glasses with his shirt, Isaac wondered what he should do now. His parents just stopped fighting, so everything was going to be quiet for a while. Guess the only thing to do was lay down and wait for dinner.

Putting his glasses back on his face, Isaac moved away from the wall and started walking to his room.

Checking to make sure that no one else was around, Isaac quickly scampered past the living room before making it into the hallway on the other side. It’s worth mentioning again, but Isaac lived in a big house.

A two-story, five-garage, and five-bedroom house plus a couple of open rooms for thrown in for the hell of it. It was a big house, big enough that Isaac and his sisters could each have their own room and still have one left over. You know, in case anybody wanted to stay the night.

It's a great house; there's just one tiny problem.

It’s a Cantor house.

Now, the Cantors have been in the framing business for a long time. They make good, sturdy houses while also being affordable, everyone loves them. However, they have jokes hidden in the walls.

It is, at this point, almost a scientific fact that a Cantor can’t do anything without making a joke about it. They’re the kind of people that, when they go to a wedding, they’ll be the ones throwing water balloons at people. If there's a funeral, they’ll put glitter bombs under every chair and set them off while playing a trumpet on top of the casket.

So if a whole team of Cantor spend weeks building a house, then you know it's gonna have a couple “surprises” for anyone living there.

Fake skeletons, squeaky floorboards, weird light coloring, anything and everything that they find funny you might find in a Cantor house. It's never anything serious, just annoying. Some people learn to live with it, mostly though they just pay someone to fix everything.

Apparently, the Mathews family is making pretty good money doing that.

For family, the Cantors went all out on their jokes. Switching the hot and cold pipes so that cold is hot and vice versa, making all facets have a water pressure that is barely above a trickle. They even somehow made it so that every garage door remote opens a different garage door every time you use it.

But what they did to their rooms is almost diabolical. All the bedrooms were put down in the same hallway, each one lining the walls, while the master bedroom was put at the end of the hall, watching over all the other rooms.

The doors are so loud that you can hear them every time they open or close, especially when you're asleep. They even made it so that only the bedroom walls are thin, making it almost impossible not to hear what anyone is doing.

Isaac's room was the first one on the right, the farthest from his parent's room while also being the closest to the kitchen. It also made it especially easy to slip inside without alerting his parents.

After getting inside, Isaac quietly closed the door, holding on to the doorknob. Isaac waited. He was waiting to make sure that no one heard him going to his room. Even though he was pretty sure he wasn’t in trouble with his mom, he still didn’t want her to think about him right now.

His mom had a pretty one-track mind when her emotions were involved. If she was angry at one thing, she was angry at everything, and if she couldn't be mad at something, then she’d make a reason to be mad.

And right now, he didn’t want to deal with that.

Right now, Isaac just wanted to rest, maybe take a quick nap. After all, he had quite the workout during lunch.

Comparing Isaac’s room to his sisters', it’s pretty plain. No poster on his walls or shelves full of stuffed animals. He didn’t have stereos for his music or piles of clothes on the floor. He didn’t even paint the walls like they did; he didn’t think there was a reason to.

What’s wrong with a nice beige?

There's no need to paint the walls pink or purple; just be happy with the nice beige already there.

In fact, the only color in his room besides the beige walls were the navy blue sheets on his bed and brown on his wooden dresser.

Beside the bed and a closet, the only thing that he had in his room was a shelf for his books, a dresser for clothes, and a TV for his games. He didn't even have a chair to sit on; why would he when he could use his bed instead?

As he took off his shoes, Isaac found himself thankful that the rooms were at least carpeted. Everywhere else in the house was either tile or hardwood floor, made it hell to walk around barefoot—another one of his family's jokes.

Walking to his bed, Isaac wondered what people would think if they saw his room. They probably wouldn’t even believe that it was his room to begin with. Nothing about this room reflected the Isaac they knew- a loud, annoying ball of energy that couldn’t stand sitting still.

What they didn’t know was that the only reason Isaac was like that was because he was around so many people. Put him in a room by himself, and he’ll never say another word. Come on, it’s not like he’s insane; there’s no fun doing all that if nobody is around.

Isaac loves messing with people. Seeing their silly reaction to everything he does just seemed to make the world, brighter. In his mind, he was doing this world a favor. He was taking these boring and serious people and making them silly.

But if everyone ignored Isaac, then he would leave them alone. It's no fun playing with statues.

Well, no, that's not true. Because Isaac would just try harder; statues are just made of stone; after all, sooner or later, they’ll break.

Like Luci, it was fun getting through her shell.

As Isaac layed down on his bed, he couldn’t help but think back on everything he and Luci did together.

The pep rally shower of snow, the spicy water through the plumbing, the pastenote teacher longe. True, it was mainly him doing all of those, but Luci was always right there behind him, he was sure of it.

Was she..she was right behind him right? You know, now that he's thinking about it, was she there for any of it?

Maybe he told her.

Eh, who cares? If he had fun, then he had enough fun for both of them.

The last thing that Isaac thought as he drifted off to sleep was that it was gonna be pretty sad not going to school with Luci.