Monday

June 5, 1995

Max and Dave spent the rest of the weekend settling in. Max read comics, played Game Boy, and watched movies on the basic cable channels they didn’t have at home. Dave sulked quietly in their bedroom reading Rosemary’s Baby, writing in an old notebook he found on the bookshelf, and staring out the window at the neighborhood below.

Monday morning rolled around, and their grandmother insisted they venture out. They sat at the kitchen table, large syrup-soaked pancakes steaming in front of them. Agnes slid a paper across the table to Max. It had directions to the library from her house, then to the grocery store from the library, and back to her house from the store.

Their grandfather, Roger, laughed at her overly cautious note-taking.

“It’s Minden, Agnes,” he said. “All they need to know is where the courthouse is.” He looked at the boys. Dave wondered how he could see them through his ruggedly squinty eyes and shaggy mane that fell over them.

Something about him reminded Dave of that guy from The Quick and the Dead. Sam something. The one western his father liked. A movie Martha disapproved of letting children watch.

“Look outside. Look up a little,” he continued. “You’ll see the courthouse. You can make it from there to here and here to there. That’s all you need to know.”

It was all they needed to know. The Minden courthouse loomed over the town, visible from just about everywhere. Like a giant stone North Star.

Roger stood and ruffled each boy’s hair with his large, calloused hands.

“I’ll be back for lunch,” he said, shifting his attention to Agnes.

“Want anything in particular?” she asked.

“Whatever these gentlemen want is fine with me,” he said. He winked down at them and whispered, “She makes excellent sloppy joes.”

Max and Dave left shortly after their grandfather. They looked up a little, just as instructed, and saw the courthouse. As they walked down the street, they listened to the birds. Their songs of chirps and tweets clashing with Dave on an almost personal level.

Despite his sullenness, Dave admired the small-town houses as he walked beside Max. Every house was different and unique, but none felt out of place.

They noticed a boy about their age playing on the front porch of one of the larger homes. He had a tub of Legos on one side and a pile of green and tan army men on the other.

“Hey,” said Max, still standing at the end of the long sidewalk that led to the house.

The boy perked up and looked at the brothers and nervously ran his fingers through his unruly curls.

“Stay right there!” he yelled. “I’m not allowed to have company when my parents aren’t home.”

Max seemed to take this as an invitation and stepped forward. Dave grabbed Max’s shirt by the collar and pulled him back to his side.

Max shrugged off his brother’s hand but remained where he was.

“Watcha makin’?” Max yelled from across the yard.

The boy remained silent.

“Surely you can talk to us,” Max said. “You’re not breaking any rules, are ya? You’re on the porch, we’re clear out here on the public sidewalk. Like… talkin’ on the phone or somethin’.”

The boy looked at them. Specifically Max first, then Dave, then back to Max.

“Yyyyeah, I guess,” the boy said. “I’m Patrick.”

“I’m Max,” Max replied. He nudged Dave and muttered, “Introduce yourself, dingus.”

“I’m dingu-Dave,” Dave said quietly.

“So whatcha uilding’?” Max asked again. “Whatever it is, it looks pretty rad.”

Patrick let out a small, excited gasp.

“Yeah,” he said. “It-it is… Gonna be… rad when it’s all done. It’s gonna be a fortress for my army men.”

“I’m pretty good at making fortresses,” said Max. “And Dave here’s pretty good at… setting up army men. Want help?”

“Nah,” said Patrick. “Still no company without my parents.”

Max looked at his watch, a small rectangle with a number pad and the answer to a random math problem on the display. He hit all clear a few times to get back to the time.

Ten twelve.

“When do they get home?” Max asked.

Dave looked at him with mild annoyance. He knew what his brother was angling at. Subtlety wasn’t Max’s strong suit, but then again, he didn’t think Max believed in Bing subtle anyway.

“They usually come home for lunch around noon,” said Patrick.

“So we could help ya build for a little bit and be gone before they get home!” Max started marching up the sidewalk. Dave stayed where he was.

“No!” yelled Patrick. “That’s okay, maybe another-”

It was too late. Max had a handful of Legos and was already hard at work on an addition to the army men’s fortress.

“Yeah,” Patrick said. “I guess just a few minutes wouldn’t hurt. I mean, it’s not like you’re inside the house or anything.”

Dave begrudgingly took a seat on the porch swing and sat quietly as a few minutes turned into forty-five. The conversation spanned a variety of topics: favorite dog breeds, what if zombie cats existed, how long would it take for a chicken to walk a mile?.

Max had perfect responses for everything. He always did. That was part of what made him so much more likeable than Dave. Beagles, because of the Beagle Boys in DuckTales. If a zombie cat caught a non-zombie bird, that bird would become a zombie, and before you knew it, the world would be over. And it would take a chicken one hour to walk a mile because… why wouldn’t it?

“Have you ever played Streets of Rage 3?” Patrick asked.

“No,” said Max. “We don’t have a Sega. All we have is an old Nintendo… Not even a Super.”

“It’s awesome!” said Patrick. “Maybe later, when my parents are home, you can come over and we can play. I have it hooked up to a TV in my room.”

“You have a TV in your room?” Max asked. “What are we waiting for? Let’s go!”

Patrick quickly jumped up, placing himself between Max and the front door.

“I’d better not,” he said. “My parents would kill me.”

“You said they come home around noon, right?” asked Max.

Patrick nodded.

Max checked his watch.

“It’s only ten forty-five. We go in, beat up some bad guys for a few minutes, and we’ll be out before your parents get home for lunch. We gotta be back at our grandma’s house by noon anyway.”

Patrick hesitated, then opened the door.

The house was dimly lit, even with the lights on, and it was big. A large open living room greeted them, with a couch against a large picture window overlooking the porch. Two recliners faced a console TV in the corner.

Patrick’s room was upstairs. To reach the stairway, they passed through a spacious dining room.

“Your house is big,” said Dave. If he were left here alone, he’d probably spend his time on the porch too. He didn’t even like being in his small house in Manchester alone.

“Yeah,” said Patrick. “I guess. C’mon, follow me.”

He led them through a cramped hallway on the second floor. It wasn’t as big as it looked from the outside. Funny how sometimes big things can actually be small.

Patrick’s room was messy. A bunk bed stood in the corner, the top piled with stuffed animals and random toys. A small TV sat on a desk with a Sega and two controllers waiting to be held.

Dave sat on the bottom bunk and watched as Patrick and Max fought through the streets. Max played as Axel Stone, Patrick as Skate. A few minutes turned into thirty, and thirty into forty-five. The streets were definitely filled with rage. Dave, meanwhile, was filled with nervous boredom.

Patrick snapped out of his pixelated fury at the sound of a car door outside. He threw the controller to the floor and ran to the window, just in time to see his mother walking up the sidewalk. Before Dave could figure out what was happening, they all heard front door open.

“CRUD!” he whispered loudly. “My mom’s home! What time is it?”

Max checked his watch.

“Eleven thirty-four.”

Max began running his fingers through his hair again.

“Oh man! I’m sooooo dead!”

“Relax,” said Max. “It’s all good, man. You said her lunch break is an hour, right?”

“Right,” Patrick replied. He was nearly hyperventilating.

“You go downstairs, keep her company. We hang out up here until she goes back to work.”

“Yeah,” said Patrick, calming down, catching his breath.

“What about Grandma?” Dave asked. “She’ll be expecting us home in like twenty minutes.”

“She’ll be fine,” Max said. “She’ll worry for a few minutes, and Grandpa will calm her down.” He lowered his voice and squinted his eyes. “‘Boys will be boys. I’m sure they’re just chattin’ up a cute girl or somethin’.’”

Dave actually relaxed a little. Max was right. He was always right. And that impression of Grandpa was surprisingly accurate.

Max had a way with people, he could read them, understand them, even when he barely knew them. He probably had Patrick figured out after only a few words. Everything would work out just fine.

Dave was so deep in thought he didn’t notice when Patrick left the room. The game was still running, the volume turned low. Dave crept to the door and peeked out, trying to catch whatever he could of the conversation downstairs.

He could hear most of Patrick’s side of the conversation as he spoke nervously and loudly.

“MOM!” he yelled. “You’re home early!”

“Yeah,” she was quiet and Dave could only make out a few words. “… Got the day… a little early… spend it with my favorite son.”

Dave later found out Patrick was actually an only child.

“SO YOU’RE HOME ALL DAY NOW?” he yelled louder.

Dave shuffled back into the bedroom just in time to see Max halfway out the window.

“What are you doing!?” he whispered.

Max looked at him for a moment before answering.

“I’m leaving. What does it look like I’m doing?”

“You’re going to break your back!” said Dave. “You know how high up we are?”

“Relax,” said Max. “There’s one of those vine-climby things out this window.”

“A trellis,” Dave corrected.

“Yeah, that,” said Max. “We can just climb down.”

Dave watched Max disappear through the window and nervously fidget before running to see if he made it down safely. He imagined looking out to see Max lying broken, maybe even dead, in the yard.

By the time he got there Max was lying in the yard, but picking himself up and dusting himself off. Dave watched as he casually walked back to the sidewalk where a girl, probably about their age, was standing with a confused look on her face. They appeared to be having a conversation, but they were too far away for him to hear any of it.

Dave leaned out the window nervously, he needed to get Max’s attention, needed to get out of this mess his brother got him into.g!