Chapter 2

Monday- Before the fall:

I waltzed into school. I still had a month till my birthday, a month till I needed to be at Aunt Julia’s. She’d promised to take me in ‘if this happened’ though I think we both thought it was a bit beyond even the depths my family might sink too.

I headed into my first period class and set next to Adrian, “Hey, how was Schrader?”

She rolled her eyes and flipped the hair out of them, “Fucking waste of time. He went to a music festival with 8 dollars and a tuna sandwich and had a tiny dick to boot.”

“You still fucked him?”

She shrugged, “The sandwich was okay.”

I couldn’t help rolling my eyes, “Good to know.”

“Mom said you were getting kicked out.”

I faked a smile, “Yeah, overheard them talking. Out at 18. Do not pass go. Do not collect 200 dollars.”

Do not fuck your hot Aunt.

“You can stay with us. Mom said it was okay and Dad won’t even notice.”

“Nah, I talked to my Aunt. She said she take me in if it ever happened. She wanted to adopt me, but they wouldn’t take the hit to their pride. Dad went on about “optics”, think the fucker wants to be a politician someday.”

“Anything else going on?”

“Cemetery day is Wednesday. I have the talk with my mother on Thursday. Should be about it.”

“The talk?”

“My family has some weird traditions. She’s taken Michael and Selena up to Maiden’s point to talk to them about now. So, it isn’t a ‘bring your shovel’ thing.”

“Why Maiden’s point?”

“Fuck, if I know. Who is next on your hit parade?”

“Hard to say, I’m running out of options. Probably that drummer.”

“The one that thinks he has a moustache?”

“Yeah.”

“You have the worst taste in men.”

She offered me a beatific smile, “Nah, I’d never date you.”

I smiled back. As long as I’d known her, I’d never held so much as a romantic thought about her. I wasn’t sure if it’s because she was clearly labeled as ‘friend’ in my head, that I didn’t want to risk damaging my relationship with one of the few people that cared about me, or that she was just not my type. My crushes tended to run a bit more alternative in nature. Give a girl a tattoo, piercings, and a hair color only native to bottle and I’d probably tried my luck.

Thursday: An hour before the fall

I drove the long winding road up to Maiden’s point. The useless lump was sitting in the passenger seat. I’d argued with Henry for almost four hours a few days ago. I wanted to kick the bastard out, get rid of him and he’d infuriated me by talking about ‘optics’ and pissing off my father. We couldn’t agree on a plan, but I wasn’t going to let that piece of shit back inside of me.

I glanced over at him and found my fury growing.

He dares to look like Stephen. The son he took from me.

For now, the plan was to give him the talk, like I had Michael and Selena. Let him know about the family traditions and then find a reason to kick him out before his birthday. Henry had suggested sending him to my sister, but that would be too good for him. He couldn’t be allowed to join the family.

The lump spoke, “Y’know, we don’t have to do this.”

“We’re taking a walk. It’s a rite of passage.”

“Fine.”

It pisses me off even more when he just lets it go.

I finished the drive and parked at the lot nearest the walkway to the viewing platform. I wasn’t sure why I’d chosen this place to introduce my children to the idea of the family tradition, but it was usually pretty vacant and it was pretty. Michael had just been excited about getting laid, too many high school girls teasing and not putting out. Selena had been afraid, hesitant to join her father in bed. It had taken me the better part of the month to talk her into it.

He pranced ahead of me, all arrogance. He used to at least show shame about what he’d done, but the last few years he didn’t even pretend that he was sad he’d murdered his brother.

It was a few minutes’ walk to the viewing platform. A gust blew and I pulled my scarf a bit tighter around me. It was a gift from Stephen. Henry paid for it, but Stephen had picked it out. A monogrammed silk scarf in dazzling red; I rarely went anywhere without it, even though it didn’t keep the vernal chill from me.

We reached the platform and he turned and said, “So, is this the ‘incest’ talk or the ‘kicking me out at eighteen’ talk? Or both?”

How did he?

“Yeah, I’ve known about the incest thing for two years. You left your door open when you and Dad were with Selena. I called Aunt Julia and she talked me out of calling the police. It’s a tradition. It’s voluntary. Caught a few other instances since then ... particularly your long showers right after Michael gets home.”

“You’re not going to be included.”

I’d rather die.

“Yeah, I figured that. You’ve spent fifteen years hating me for things beyond my control. I stopped expecting to be included in things years ago.”

“You’ve been given everything you need!”

Stop yelling. Probably no one around this time of year, but I can’t risk anyone overhearing.

“Yeah, the bare minimum. I get whatever Michael and Selena don’t need or want anymore and you feed me. I’m aware. I’m okay with it. I know you hate me and to be honest I wouldn’t want to be with you that way either.”

“You’re gay?”

“No. Straight as an arrow, I just don’t have any positive feelings for you anymore.”

“I don’t hate you.”

A voice from the back of my skull added, “You just contemplated smothering him with a pillow till he was six.”

I repeated, “I don’t hate you. After the way you betrayed the family, I just can’t let you join it.”

He sighed and I started fiddling with my scarf, “I’ve already got a plan for my 18^th. Don’t worry about it. I would like you to answer one question.”

You don’t get to make demands.

“What?”

“I was two when Chase died.”

“His name was Stephen.”

“Stephen Chase Hunter; my limited memories of him were as ‘Chase’ we were at the grave yesterday. I was two. I wasn’t capable of understanding what bone marrow was, much less giving consent. You’ve hated me. You’ve all hated me, since. So, my question is ... How was it my fault? How could I at two have done anything differently? How could I have saved Chase?”

The voice echoed, “You know he’s right.”

“If you’d been able to donate, he would be alive.”

“It ain’t necessarily so, but if I’d been able to consent, I would have. I get the grief. I lost my entire family that day, but why take it out on me?”

A sudden gust came and the scarf blew out of my hand and towards the edge of the point. The lump hopped up on the rock wall around the edge of the viewing platform and snagged it out of the air, “It’s fine. I got it, Mom. I know how important this is to you.”

My body responded. I just stepped forward and thrust my arms forward. It was like I was watching it on television. My body just moved on its own. My body pushed him and he went over the edge.