Ryan Mayors was always the successful one. Micah was a hard worker but lacked the inherit talent that Ryan possessed. Jillian and William Mayors new this from a young age. Both boys played sports but Ryan was always the star. Micah barely passed high school and needed a 25th hour test to do it. Ryan got straight A’s and wasn’t even trying. Ryan was also the only one to go to college in the family. Even with all of his success, Ryan still wasn’t the favorite. Micah was the one his parents approved of. Micah was told he could stay at home as long as he needed. Ryan was kicked out at eighteen and when he returned one day to make a sandwich, they called the cops on him. Micah would eventually get the cops called on him years later. That took a lot more than a sandwich though, it took a bong and his hair on fire to be exact. Even now, years later, with both of the kids older and grown, Ryan was still held in contempt. He didn’t know why. Maybe it was because he didn’t need his parents and Micah did. Maybe they felt he abandoned them when he moved to California the first time and didn’t talk to them again until after Marty was born. While his parents loved Marty, they still didn’t like Ryan. Giving Micah a house was the ultimate fuck you. The single dad with a young child? He didn’t need a house. The younger brother with no job and a crazy wife? Yeah, that’s the person who really needed it.

Micah understood this. He was well aware that they favored him, sometimes only doing it to piss off Ryan. Micah didn’t play into their games. He loved his brother. He would stand by him. He wouldn’t let them throw him out. He wouldn’t let them try and split up Ryan and Marty. Ryan and Micah never said I love you. The Mayors didn’t like those three words. But Micah was the one with the biggest heart. He was the one who would die for his family. So when his parents came calling and told him he had twenty four hours to kick Ryan out or else they would come down there and do it for him. He gave them the biggest middle finger he could, shoved it right at the phone and then just said no before hanging up. Ryan was standing behind him when this had happened.

“You know they are going to come now. They will bring the whole police force if they need to,” Ryan said.

“Let em, fuck em,” Micah said.

“Well what are we going to do?”

“Leave them out in the storm.”

“This isn’t going to be good.”

“They will turn back when they see how bad the weather is going to get. Let’s go make dinner. I got a pizza from the Locke Harbour Market,” Micah said.

They walked into the living room. Marty was on the couch watching TV. No cartoons were on but he had found some kind of action movie. One with guns and explosions. He loved those ones. They came in second only to horror movies. Micah went into the kitchen and found Carol standing there. She was staring down at a knife. She was half way through chopping a stock of celery.

“What’s this for?” Micah asked.

“I just wanted some celery.”

“Okay. Want me to get some ranch out?”

“No. We can’t eat it. There’s poison in it.”

“There isn’t any poison in the celery. Look.”

Micah reached down and picked up a piece of celery. He went to go put it in his mouth.

“NO!”

Carol’s shriek caught everyone off guard. Micah was frozen with the celery in his hand. Carol had the knife up against his chest.

“Put the knife down.”

Micah backed away as he talked to her. She didn’t move with him. Her arm stayed in place. Floating in air with the tip of the knife pointed at him.

“Put it down.”

She listened to him this time. She placed the knife back on the counter and then pulled out the garbage from below the sink and swept the celery into it. She walked off passed Micah and went down the hall towards her room.

Micah dropped his head and then looked over at the living room. Ryan and Marty were both frozen in place watching him. No one said anything. They all knew she was getting worse. Even Marty who didn’t really know what was wrong with her. You didn’t need to know much to know that you didn’t point a knife at someone you loved. Micah went down the hall after her without saying anything.

“I need the controller. Let’s see how bad this storm really is,” Ryan said.

Marty gave up the controller without a fight. He didn’t really care for the movie he was watching anyways. He picked up the book next to him and opened it up to the page that had a folded corner. Some people thought folding the corners was sacrilegious. That it was a disgrace to the book. Marty didn’t believe that. He refused to buy a book mark just like his dad refused to buy an umbrella in Washington. If you were a true reader then you didn’t need some fancy place keeping piece of crap. The book was in the journey with you. Its pages felt what you felt. You folded the books corners. The book folded your heart.

As Marty read, Ryan reached the news. The storm was the headline. That usually wasn’t a good sign when talking about how bad it would be. The man on the tube talked about wind. He talked about rain. Most importantly, he talked about direction. The storm had turned. Instead of grazing the side of the island it was now going to hit it dead on. If you lived on Cradle Isle, then you needed to get out or lock up. This one was going to be a doozy. Ryan considered leaving in that moment. His parents wanted them out anyways. He didn’t know where they would go though. He needed to start work again. He could find a job fast, a shitty job sure, but having a bachelor’s degree at least made it easy to get shitty jobs. Then again maybe Micah was right. Their parents had to know about the storm. They were old. They wouldn’t go to the effort to brave the storm. But he knew having optimistic thoughts wasn’t the safest of ideas when thinking about their drive to fuck his life up though. Their anger knew no limits. They might drive through the apocalypse to kick him out of THEIR house. He looked over at Marty. Ryan was never much of a book worm. That was Marty’s mother’s thing. She would always stay up in bed and read. He was the movie guy. They complimented each other in that way. That was the only way though. The rest of them just didn’t work out. Before long they were separated and Ryan was off with his son. Marty didn’t know his mother. Not personally at least. In his heart he knew her though. She was a part of him even if he didn’t realize it. Ryan saw it every time he picked up a book. She didn’t believe in book marks either.

Micah came back without Carol. He looked stressed.

“Okay. Now it’s definitely time for pizza,” Micah said.

Marty looked up from his book.

“Yes please.”

Micah took the pizza out of the fridge and took the plastic off of it. He started preheating the oven.

“The news said the storm is going to hit the island with full force now. We might want to bring anything in from outside that we don’t want flying off,” Ryan said.

“That’s a good idea. There some chairs in back yard that need to be brought in. Probably won’t put them out there until the spring time anyways,” Micah replied.

Ryan looked at Marty.

“Want to help me bring the stuff in from the yard?”

No. He sure didn’t. But the question was just a formality. Saying no would only bring out his father’s angry face. The one he used when he threw batting practice at Marty during the summer.

“Sure.”

Marty bent the corner of the page he was on and set his book down. His father was up and heading towards the glass door. He opened it and walked out into the night. Marty followed him. The nights came quick now. By 5:30 or 6:00 it was usually dark and all the trees didn’t help when it came to sun exposure. Ryan was down the steps and into the yard. Marty paused on the balcony. He looked at the tree line. It was darker than in his dreams. He listened. There was something out there. Some sound that echoed in the distance. It was like static.

“Dad. Do you hear that?”

Ryan had a chair in hand. He stopped and looked around.

“I don’t hear anything.”

Marty didn’t hear anything anymore either. Whatever he had heard was gone now. Maybe it was just his ears playing tricks on him. He didn’t believe that though, not fully anyways. The sound was familiar to him. He just couldn’t place it. He hoped it wouldn’t come back. He especially didn’t want it to come back in his dreams. A rain drop fell on him in that moment and pulled him out of his head.

“Come on buddy! The storms coming. Let’s get this stuff inside the garage.”

Marty went down the stairs and helped his dad bring the chairs in. He took one more look at the woods. Now he heard the wind. Maybe that was what he had heard all along. Or maybe whatever was out there was just hiding behind the wind. The storm was coming. Marty hoped that was all that was on its way.

Next Chapter: Chapter Three