Jay was nervous to tell his parents about the meeting and Mr. Avery’s offer, but his primary concern was finding a safe place for his money. He had no personal space inside the house and no access to a bank. He finally decided to wrap it up in a couple of plastic bags and bury it by a shrub in the back by the shed. When he raked his fingers over the small mound, trying to make it look more natural, a lightness stole into him. He could escape soon, he knew it. He just had to find a way to convince his parents to have Rat tested.
The next morning, he got up early with his brothers and got ready for work. He idly wondered how many more days of labor he had to endure before he could pack up and leave. Indie caught him smiling and sidled up to him as they waited their turn for the bathroom.
“How did the meetin’ go?” he whispered.
“Shut up,” Jay said and looked around the corner into the kitchen. His momma was humming and swaying while she fixed their breakfast. He could smell bacon, a treat they hadn’t had in months.
“At least tell me if you’re gonna take the job.” Indie insisted. Jay nodded and pounded on the door.
“Let’s go, Rat. I’m late.” He called. “Guess I’ll call you Turtle now, if you’re so slow.” he tacked on. It was uncharacteristic banter for him but he was in a good mood. His littlest brother opened the door immediately and ran out.
“Sorry, Jay!” he called as he jumped into his chair at the table. Jay paused at the bathroom door and nodded at Indie again.
“I’ll tell you more if you want, just stop fuckin’ talkin’ about it.” Indie’s smile made Jay roll his eyes.
While Jay brushed his teeth, he thought about his money, hidden safely, and what he could do with it. A good quality whiskey would be the first thing he bought. He would bring it home and after their parents went to sleep, he would wake up Indie and get him drunk for the first time. He smirked at his image in the mirror, the thought of Indie, usually straight-laced but fierce, smashed out of his mind. He reached a hand up and tugged on his hair. It fell back into his eyes. Maybe the first thing would be a real haircut at a real barber.
Jay shaved quickly and not very carefully, nicking himself. He hissed in pain and saw a drop of red blood land in the white basin. He thought of what Indie had said about Rat healing his head. He frowned and shook his head. He put the razor to his cheek again and felt dizziness wash over him.
I can fix that, Jay.
It was Rat’s voice. He spun around and looked behind him. It had come from the bathroom, he was sure. But Rat was in the kitchen. If he held his breath, he could hear him laughing with Indie as they washed their plates.
“That’s not nice, Rat.” He heard Indie say and Rat answered with a giggle.
Jay faced the mirror again and put his razor to his cheek. He steadied his shaking hand and pulled the razor down slowly, carefully and felt the scrape of it against his stubble. He rinsed the head of the blade and eyed himself in the mirror again. His narrow, cat-like hazel eyes were wide with terror. His heart raced but the dizziness was gone.
Promise it won’t hurt.
The dizziness this time threatened to topple him. He gripped the sink and watched his dark knuckles turn white. He lifted his head and looked at the tiny razor nick in the mirror. He saw darkness edge his vision and felt a tingle in his jaw. A tiny pip and his face stopped bleeding. A crumpling thud came from the other side of the wall. He heard his mother scream from the kitchen.
“Indie!” Jay grabbed the towel on the sink and wiped his face off. He dashed into the kitchen, his heart already racing and a cold fear drenching him in sweat. His mother was at the table with the twins, their father at the counter. Indie was on the floor, a pool of blood welling under his head.
“What the fuck happened, Rat?” Jay roared and grabbed the boy by his shirt, lifting him from the stool at the sink. “What did you do?”
“Let me down! I gotta help him!” shrieked the boy, and he kicked out at him. Jay dropped him and spun around, kneeling by his brother. He turned Indie over to see that he hadn’t hit his head on anything but that his nose was bleeding and badly.
“Call an ambulance, Momma!” Shouted Jay but the boy countered him.
“Don’t! I can fix him.” With a calm, steady hand, he reached out and put his palm on Indie’s chest. The giddy darkness washed over Jay. He grabbed the boy’s hand away and stopped him. He immediately felt better. It wasn’t fear that had him feeling the breathless pressure, it was…outside of him, pulling on him. Something inside him connected and he pressed his brother’s hand to Indie’s chest with his own adult hand over top of it. He looked at the boy and nodded.
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“Now do it.” Jay steeled himself, and immediately felt the dizzy pull in his head. He pulled back, fighting back the blackness on the edge of his vision. His breath stalled in his chest and his heart thudded painfully. “Stop, Rat. Stop!” The blackness faded.
They all looked down to Indie who now had his eyes open. His nose had stopped bleeding. He rolled over and vomited, the sick clinging to his shoulder-length ringlets.
“Rat…” Jay began, taking his brother’s tiny shoulders in his hands. “You can’t…you can’t do these things anymore. You’re gonna kill Indie.” Shock washed over the boy and he started shaking.
Jay glanced up at his father, still standing at the counter. His face was unreadable, but his mother’s face was pale and had a sheen of fear. She tried to stand but her legs would not let her, and she flopped back down. The twins were boulders, silent and unmoving. They met his eyes one at a time and gave him the briefest of nods. They had felt it too.
“When you do this, Rat, you’re taking from Indie somethin’ he doesn’t have to give you. I don’t know what it is, but I feel it and the twins do, too. But it’s hurtin’ Indie. You can’t do this anymore or you will kill him.” Jay said gently. It was the most patient he had ever felt with any of his brothers and the seriousness of that alone made the boy start sobbing.
“I heard you think-talkin’ about your money under the shrub and how you wanted that whiskey and then I told Indie that you cut your face and he said that I could probably fix a razor cut no problem so I showed me fixin’ Indie’s head but you didn’t hear me so I had to think-talk ask you and then…” his voice trailed off as he ran out of air. He drew in a new breath, but nothing came out but a long, thin moan. His mother finally found her legs and stood to comfort him.
Toe got up quietly, helped Indie to his feet and took him to get cleaned up. Two started to clean up the sick on the floor, holding his breath as he wiped up chunks of bacon that Indie had wolfed down without chewing. Jay stood and looked at his father. He was staring into space, devoid of any emotion on his face. He sipped his coffee absently. Then his eyes flicked up to meet Jay’s.
“If I hear one fuckin’ word about this I will belt you all. Even you,” he said and nodded to Jay. “You still remember how that feels?” Jay felt the anger in him rising, burning in his chest like hot liquor. He nodded once, confirming that he heard and understood.
“What money was he talkin’ about?” his father continued icily. Jay’s stomach dropped out. There seemed much bigger things to focus on and he had been praying that his father had missed that part.
“Just some cash I have saved up.” Jay evaded and turned away to give his reply some sort of natural nonchalance. He heard his father’s mug set down with a chink on the counter.
“What cash you got saved up?” Jay shrugged and moved to leave the kitchen.
“Just a few dollars I was savin’ for things like a hair cut or a new pair of shoes.” He felt his face flush. He hated lying to his father, to his face.
“Where you get this money? Sellin’ your brother, like a whore?” his father asked and Jay frowned. He turned back to his father.
“The agency, Pops.” His confusion was mistaken for lying and his father reached out and slapped him hard across the face.
“You lie to me again, I will belt you.” Rage flashed in Jay’s eyes and took a step backward.
“I ain’t lyin’!” He defended himself.
“I was told by one of the guys at the mill that you’ve been peddlin’ your brother as a sideshow freak. You makin’ me look like a fool so you can have a new pair of shoes?” His father’s voice was steady, but Jay saw his nostrils flare and braced himself.
“I ain’t!” He said guiltily. He couldn’t move fast enough, and he got a fist to his nose.
“You wanna try that again, boy?” His father said as Jay doubled over in shock.
“I ain’t a boy!” he bellowed and for the first time in his life he swung back at his father. He had surprise on his side and his fist collided solidly with his father’s nose. The rest of the family in the kitchen heard a crunch and blood shot out of his broken nose. Something snapped in Jay and he attacked in full force.
“I ain’t a boy! And I’m leavin’ first chance I get!” He punctuated each word in the statement with a box to his father’s ears. His mother screamed again, and he felt the now-familiar heavy dizziness sap his strength. But this time he felt it pull away and it slithered off him like a satin sheet. He whipped around to see his youngest brother covering his mouth in horror. He could tell that Rat was keeping in mind what Jay had told him about Indie.
Suddenly Jay’s ear felt like it was on fire. His father had taken his distracted attention and used it to counterattack. Jay whirled back around to see his father’s belt whiz by his face. He reached up and caught the leather strap. He wound his hand around, drawing his father in closer as he pulled. He jerked the belt free from his father’s fingers and swung in at his face. A multitude of arms, thick and strong, wrapped themselves around him from behind. Toe had him around the middle, and Two had him around the shoulders. He tried to shrug them off and relented. They were too much for him to fight off. The twins relaxed and Toe’s arms retreated from his torso.
His father saw him powerless and took the opportunity to punch him in the stomach, smashing the air from his lungs. He doubled over again, gasping. His father bent down, face to face with him and wiped blood from his own split lip.
“You ain’t fuckin’ goin’ nowhere, boy.”