Indie and the littlest brother sat side by side on the curb outside their house. The sun fell hotly on their black-haired heads and Indie resolved to ask their mother for a haircut for the baby soon. He himself was proud of his shoulder length curls. He wiped the sweat off his forehead and pulled a thin elastic off his wrist. He twisted his hair up in a tangled ponytail behind him and shook his head.
They had spent the morning sitting with Ella and her charges, laughing and talking. When the girls had gone in for lunch, the two brothers sat in comfortable silence that neither of them felt the need to break. Half an hour later Indie nudged his brother.
“I wanna ask Ella to go for a walk with me. Do you think she’d go with me?” The little boy wiggled uncomfortably.
“Are you gonna make her kiss you?” he asked honestly. Indie smiled.
“Nah, you can’t make anyone kiss you. It ain’t fun that way, for you or them.” Indie explained. “But if she let me, I’d like to kiss her.”
“Would Lissie be mad?” queried the boy. Indie’s annoyance was with himself more than his brother when he answered.
“No, she ain’t mean nothin’ to me and I ain’t mean nothin’ to her. It was just kissin’ and it wasn’t even good kissin’.” Indie stopped and blushed. “She got handsy and made me feel awful.”
“She hit you?” the boy asked incredulously. Indie’s face got redder.
“Never mind, Rat. Leave it.” Indie tried with all his might to keep the thoughts of Lissie’s groping out of his head. He could tell from the look his brother gave him that he had failed.
“Why’d she touch you like that?” Demanded the five-year-old.
“Leave it alone, Rat. Jesus.”
“Sorry, Indie. I can’t help when you send the things to me,” the boy apologized. Indie frowned. “I was tryin’ to keep them from you, though. I ain’t send nothin’ to you.”
“Oh! You’re not very good at that, are you?” the boy laughed, his giggles came from his core like a baby, innocent and joyful. “I could probably show you how.”
“How? I ain’t special like you are.” Indie was nervous to let his brother do any more experimenting until they had him under the guidance of Mr. Avery. But he was very curious if he could keep his brother from his mind, if only so he could daydream about kissing Ella in private.
“Everyone could probably do that part. It’s just like locking the door and making sure no one can creep past it. You were able to keep me out a little yesterday but once I saw that if I moved real slow-like you wouldn’t notice I was there and I could touch that sick part of your mind.”
“Sorry, Rat. I dunno. I would like to just do somethin’ normal today, you know? I’m real tired of this stuff for now.” Indie declined.
“Oh, yeah. Alright.” The boy looked a little deflated. He clearly loved to use this special part of him and sharing it with Indie made him so happy. Indie felt guilty and relented a little.
“When the girls get back from their lunch, let’s make them smile. You remember not to take from me, though, ok?” Indie suggested. His brother’s face lit up like a ray of light.
“Yes, please! That will be easy. Mr. Ulrich don’t know but he showed me how to keep myself to myself better than I was already doin’.”
True to his word, Indie let the boy show off for the girls when they came back. The little boy was an excellent showman. He had a very clever way of hiding his actual tricks with sleight of hand movements that would have fooled Indie himself if he didn’t know the truth. The boy had even figured out how to make sure the things he brought back were dry now. His glee when the girls would scream in excitement was incredible for the elder brother. Seeing both Ella and his brother shine brought tears to his eyes.
The boy was just bringing back a button made of shiny mother-of-pearl for the littlest of Ella’s charges when the boys heard their mother calling for them. The boy held his hand out to the little girl before him.
“Momma’s callin’. Thank you for letting me borrow your button.” The girl squealed when she opened her hand and the button was in her palm, never having opened it to receive it. She took off running, her sister just behind her. Indie waved to Ella, who gave him a shy smile, and followed his brother.
“Jay called me just a minute ago to say that Mr. Avery would be by again tonight.” His mother told him when he got home. “He’s on his way home now.”
“Did he say what Mr. Avery wanted?” Indie asked her, suddenly nervous.
“No. But it’s gotta be his offer or whatever he said, isn’t it?” His mother chewed her lip, thinking. “Pops is gonna say yes.”
“Without even hearing what Mr. Avery has to tell us?” Indie asked in consternation.
“He said no matter what he says or offers, it will be better than what we got goin’ on now, which is a whole lot of nothin’,” She said. She headed to the kitchen and Indie followed her.
“I’ll help with dinner, Momma. You just tell me what we’re havin’ and I’ll do it.” Indie motioned for his mother to sit.
“You’re a good boy,” She said, visibly thankful for the help. “Just fry up them chops and make them greens.”
“Momma, that’s spinach, not greens,” Indie said, a smile in his voice.
“It don’t matter. Just toss them in butter and fry them up to go with the chops.” She sounded so tired that Indie felt guilty for not helping with the laundry that day.
“So, Pops will agree no matter what? Even if Mr. Avery wants to take him away? What about you, Momma? Rat!” he hollered. “Come chop onions for me!” He pulled out his mother’s kitchen knife, longer than his brother’s forearm by several inches and then a much smaller paring knife. He quickly snipped the ends off the onion on the counter and sliced it in half. He put it aside with the paring knife for his brother.
“I don’t know, Indie. If it would help him then he should go. But it would break my heart,” his mother admitted quietly.
Indie washed his hands and pulled the coffee maker out from the wall. He filled the pot with water and poured it in the back. Then he put in a clean filter and several scoops of dark, smoky coffee. He flipped the switch on and pulled out two mugs. Then he leaned under the sink and dug around for a moment. Indie finally stood holding a half empty bottle of cheap whiskey, a bottle his parents didn’t know that the littlest one had informed him of months before. As the coffee began to percolate and fill the kitchen with amazing smells, the boy skipped in.
“I’m choppin’ onions but I ain’t eatin’ ‘em!” He said with a laugh and moved his stool to the counter near the onions. He and Indie sometimes cooked for their mother when she was tired or just for fun. They moved in sync, Indie merely pointing with the tip of his large knife or grunting a short sound to direct the boy.
In no time they had dinner going and their mother had a stout coffee with a healthy dose of whiskey in her hands. Indie made a second cup of coffee with no whiskey just as Jay got home. He motioned to the steaming cup with his chin as he flipped a porkchop.
“Momma said you got a call from Mr. Avery,” Indie said.
“Yeah, he said it didn’t take them no time at all to figure out what they wanted to offer us.” Jay’s eyes darted to the little boy’s back. He was bent over a tomato, dicing it carefully with the sharp knife.
“You boys eat quick-like then get cleaned up. I want us to look like good folk.” Their mother stood and motioned for Jay to follow her. “You want me to cut your hair, Jay?”
Jay shrugged, an often-used gesture for him, and sipped his coffee.
“If you feel like it, Momma.”
Indie nodded at his little brother and smiled. “His too, Momma.”
“I’m growin’ my hair out like Indie.” The boy scowled at him and shook his short curls. The elder brother was touched and kept silent.
Indie watched the boy carefully before turning back to the pork chops on the stove. He hadn’t mentioned to the little boy that his days with the family were limited. He had a strong suspicion that Mr. Avery would offer them something that neither parent could refuse and then he would take his little brother away, forever. The panic in his chest shocked him. He knew he loved the boy, but losing him, even to a life that was probably better than he would ever have if he stayed home, seemed too painful to touch.
Mr. Avery showed up, again, exactly at nine o’clock. He carried a dark leather briefcase but was alone this time. He was ushered to their kitchen table to sit with their mother, father and the boy. The rest of them stood awkwardly around, waiting to see what would happen.
“As I have communicated to your son James, this is all above-board. These contracts are legally binding. If you sign them, there is little you can do to break the contract.” He sounded businesslike. Indie’s parents both nodded in understanding.
“My part in all of this is simple. I am a broker for the Hierarchy. In fact, that is my official title: Broker Avery. It is my job to make sure that you do not break your part of the agreement. If you cannot deliver after signing, I pay a heavy price. If my faction cannot meet their end of this arrangement, the contract fails and you keep your son, forever. I cannot broker another deal for him, and he will be out of our hands. It is in my best interest to keep you happy and make sure that this transaction goes smoothly.” He looked to Indie’s parents again and they nodded slowly. Indie knew that they barely followed what the man had said, but he had assured them that he was on their side in this affair.
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“Excellent.” He clicked open the briefcase and drew out a thick stack of papers, each thicker than normal paper. He laid them down and withdrew his pen from before and laid it across the papers.
“We gotta read this entire thing?” Indie’s father asked. He sounded annoyed and put out.
“It would be in your best interest to, yes. But I can summarize its contents if you would prefer. I must warn you, though, that a summarization does not include any clauses written into the contract, nor does it allow you to renege on the agreement after signing.” Mr. Avery explained. Indie’s parents exchanged glances and then their father nodded.
“Summarize for me.”
“Very well. This contract states that you allow us, hereby referred to as the Nightbound Hierarchy, to take your youngest son to train him in the Lux Initiative, a special program for people like him. He is very gifted and thus worth quite a lot to us. We offer you this sum in cash and higher education scholarships for your remaining children to any school of their choice.” Mr. Avery was succinct in his summary. The contract he had just condensed was several pages thick.
The room was quiet, and Indie looked at each of his family member’s faces. His mother seemed sad, his father looked suspicious, the twins looked anxious and tense. It was Jay’s face that he stopped and studied. He looked shocked at first, as though the offer was beyond his imagination. However, Indie then caught that familiar trace of annoyance running across his expression. Then a thoughtful, collapsed acceptance rested in his eyes. Indie looked at Mr. Avery again. He was looking at his parents, awaiting a reaction.
“I want them scholarships as cash. Ain’t none of my boys needin’ it. It serves us better as food on the table, or maybe a new car,” their father said finally.
“Cash? Surely, you would like to send your sons to school. Especially James, who has told me he has graduated with honors.” Mr. Avery’s confusion was justified.
“Nobody gonna tell me what I should be doin’ with my sons. Jay don’t need no more school, he’s a big enough smart ass as is.” Indie’s father glared up at his oldest son.
“Pops…” began Jay.
“Try me, boy.” His voice was so cold and hard that Jay drew in his breath deeply as though he had been punched again.
“I want the scholarship,” he insisted.
“I ain’t never went. Your momma never went. We don’t need you goin’ off and thinkin’ you’re suddenly smarter’n us just ‘cause some rich man paid for you to go to school.” His tone ended the conversation and he held out his hand to Mr. Avery. “I’ll sign it now if you agree to cash.”
“We can agree verbally to a revision of this contract now, if you wish. But I must strongly caution you: a verbal agreement is nearly tantamount to a written contract in these matters. There will be little you, or I, could do to extract ourselves from this type of arrangement. The Hierarchy is rather strict in these matters, I’m afraid.” Mr. Avery looked nervous and uncomfortable, Indie noted.
His parents exchanged looks: his father was angry and impatient. His mother was sad, beaten and deflated. She shrugged her acceptance and Indie’s father motioned to the stack of papers.
“We’re gonna sign this. You agree to change it to all cash?”
“Yes, that revision will be made. I can approximate that each scholarship would be worth about this amount here, give or take a thousand.” Mr. Avery assured him. He removed the last page of the paper and picked up his own pen. He made some notes at the bottom of the page in a quick, neat hand. He showed his father who read it slowly and nodded. He held his hand out for the pen.
When his father signed this time, Indie knew that it was different from the testing contract. The pen had nicked his parents’ fingers then, creating tiny cuts on their fingertips. This time, he watched in amazement as the pen glowed a dull reddish-gold and then bloody ink appeared on the page. It too held a subtle golden light that faded as it dried. His father dropped the pen in exhaustion. His mother signed after and she too looked paler than she had moments before.
“You are feeling the effects of an Unbreakable Contract.” Mr. Avery explained. “You have signed with your very life essence, allowing this contract to be altered only with your permission.” He put the contract away and tucked his pen in his breast pocket inside his jacket. “Please know that you are still under the protection of the Scouts posted around your house.”
“You have people around our home?” Indie’s mother asked, shocked.
“Yes, of course. Your son is very special, and we protect that which is deemed valuable.” Mr. Avery stood and straightened his tie. “Until next time, then.” He nodded to each of Indie’s parents and left their kitchen. Jay stormed out and slammed their bedroom door. Indie heard him wedge his bed against the door, something he had not done in a long time.
Silence fell on the room again and the twins were the first to break it.
“Pops, I know you don’t wanna hear it,” Toe began. “But Jay is gonna need to leave. If you take his school money as cash, you owe him some.” Indie saw his father standing, rage building in his face.
“Sit down,” Two suggested. “We ain’t never said nothin’ before but what you just did, shamin’ him like that in front of Mr. Avery…Pops, that shit ain’t right.”
“When Jay leaves, we’re goin’ too.” Toe looked at his twin who just nodded.
“Why are you so afraid to let him go, Pops?” Two asked. “What has he ever done to you but be the best son he can be? Ain’t none of us do anything wrong.” The strangled look on Indie’s father’s face was incredible. He looked like a choking fish, oscillating between rage and shame.
“You ungrateful pieces of shit,” was all that he could choke out. “I will kill you both if you ever talk to me that way again.”
“Nah, Pops. Nah. You keep your hands off us now or we will give it back just as good as we get it. I ain’t takin’ no more of this.” Toe jerked his head at Two and they left through the back door. The kitchen somehow felt fuller without them. Indie did his best to keep his eyes to himself, but he couldn’t resist stealing a look at his little brother’s back. He was completely still, shrunk to half his size and silent.
“Indiana, you got somethin’ to say?” demanded his father.
“No, sir.” He looked down at his feet.
Indie, I’m scared. His brother’s voice echoed in his head and he responded with his own mind, as hard as he could.
Me, too.
Jay’s rage was nigh uncontrollable. He punched his pillow until it no longer felt satisfying. He looked at the window and felt the last vestiges of his hope slipping away, then pulled the window open and slipped out into the night.
He could make a run for it. Jay looked up into the night sky and felt the vastness of it weighing on him. He could just leave. But it wasn’t fair that he should be forced to run away like a dog with his tail between his legs. Of all the injustices he had to endure, to be obliged to give up with nothing to call his own but his name, was the most unbearable. He was owed more than this, from his father and from Mr. Avery.
“Mr. Avery,” Jay called calmly when he had caught the man.
“James.” The older man caught the look on his face and held a hand up. “My apologies, Jay.”
“I want either that money or the scholarship. Fuck what my father said.” The anger in his voice made his words sharp in the humid summer night.
“I understand your frustration given that this entire affair was built on the premise that you would be free of your familial obligations, but I cannot go against the wishes of the legal guardians of the child.” Mr. Avery looked genuinely sorry for him and Jay relented a little.
“Is there anything I can do?” he pleaded.
“I would suggest talking to your parents and explaining your situation to them—” Jay cut him off with a snarl.
“You’re sayin’ that like I ain’t tried to talk to my father yet. That man ain’t gonna be reasoned with no matter what I say. He has dollar signs in his eyes and that’s all that matters. He might buy Momma a washing machine or a new stove with that money but he ain’t really lookin’ to make anyone happy but himself.”
“I am truly sorry, Jay. I did not predict that your father would be so averse to your leaving.” Mr. Avery turned to go, and Jay grabbed his arm.
“I ain’t stayin’ here any longer, but I ain’t a coward to just run away with nothin’ to live off of.” The fear in his voice was blended with such animalistic ferocity that Mr. Avery looked at him in surprise.
“That is your choice to make. Unless you can have your parents sign your remediation as part of the contract, I simply cannot help you.”
“But you promised me—” he accused.
“I most certainly did not promise you a single thing, James. I’m sorry that this transaction will not benefit you as you had previously hoped, but I cannot do anything.” Mr. Avery gave him a short nod and turned again. Jay’s heart sped up until it was painful. He saw his father’s rage-filled face, and felt the wind being knocked from him. He flexed his hands, still sore from fighting back. Jay knew his chances of getting away from his tyrannical father would leave with the man before him.
Suddenly Jay’s desperation to escape made him brash.
“You want my brother, right?” he asked.
Mr. Avery nodded. “Absolutely. He is singular in his talents.”
Jay paused before continuing.
“Get me out of here or…” His stomach felt like leaden ice. “Get me out or he won’t be here when you come for him.” Mr. Avery could not cover up his shock with anything resembling politeness.
“I beg your pardon?” he asked for clarification.
“If you want Rat, get me out of this fuckin’ house by any means or when you come to get my brother, he will be gone. I’ll blame them that’s takin’ people.” Jay’s cold words fell from his mouth before he could stop himself. Once said, he could not retract them. He let them fall around him like ashes from a firestorm.
“James…” Mr. Avery began. Jay felt him touching the insides of his head and helped up a hand in protest.
“I ain’t kiddin’. You know I will do it. I can see that you want him, but I can also see that if I stay I ain’t gonna be nothin’ but a slave in my own fuckin’ home. Find a way to get me out or forget about getting Rat.”
Mr. Avery appeared to be considering his threat, his eyes steely. Finally, he nodded once.
“Yes, I will add something in the contract for you. Your ruthlessness is a trait that the Hierarchy could really benefit from. If you’re willing to strike a verbal agreement with me now, agreeing that you will accept the terms I put in the contract that your family signed, then I will help you.” He held out his white hand and a black gemmed ring flashed in the streetlights.
“Yeah, anything. Just get me the fuck outta here.” He gripped the offered hand and when he touched his palm to Mr. Avery’s he felt a sharp sting, like a splinter lodging in his hand. He pulled away and clenched his fist, determined not to show a single ounce of weakness in front of the other man.
“Fantastic.” Mr. Avery’s eyes glinted in the light and he spun on his heel, got in his car, and was gone.
Jay watched the car turn the corner at the end of his street before he opened his hand and looked at his palm. Directly centered in the middle of his hand was a tiny pinprick of blood, as though he had been stuck by a pin. He flexed his hand and it ached as though the pin had been pushed into his flesh with force. Jay wiped his hand on his jeans and looked back down the street to where Mr. Avery had gone. He felt an odd mixture of apprehension and relief washing over him and immediately bent double and threw up in the grass.
As he climbed back into his room through the window, he braced himself for the waves of guilt that he knew would wash over him. He had threatened to do something so abominable and horrifying that he was ashamed the words even formed in his brain, let alone tumbled from his pathetic lips.
“He will want for nothing ever again.”
The words echoed in his thoughts, leaving no room for the guilt to take over. His brother was a freak, not a superhero. He had nearly killed Indie with his tricks. If he had not been born, Jay would be free by now. His mother would not have to be worried all the time. The facts were boundless as he listed his justifications.
His little brother was the direct cause of all of this, and Jay knew that he had only done what he had to do in order to survive. His father had said it himself: He would never get out of this house.