5
Steve
“Then, how do I do it, Stevie?” Steve’s little redheaded brother, Kenny, asked. He sat next to him on the little trailer couch, his pencil and math homework in Steve’s face, face pouting as he tried to wrangle fake sympathy.
“You just want me to do your homework for you,” said Steve, rubbing the top of his head. He wasn’t buying his little brother’s act for a second.
Kenny laughed mischievously. “No, I don’t.”
Steve playfully narrowed his eyes at him, rolling his fingers like tentacles as he arched up, getting ready to attack. “I’m going to tickle you to death if you don’t do your work.”
Kenny giggled some more. “No!” Steve leapt at his little brother, giving him a tickle attack anyway. The younger boy squealed with delight as if this had been his intention all along.
God, he loved his little brother. He was the only reminder he had of his mother, and the days when she had been around were the happiest he could remember…really, they were the only happy ones he could remember. It was days like this he wished she were still alive.
Her mysterious car accident had never settled well with him, how it had happened and how he’d never found out what the cause was. But, despite this, he’d always promised her he’d take care of his little brother until his dying breath. This was a promise he intended to keep no matter what it took.
Steve let Kenny catch his breath before he gave him another round of tickles, not relenting until his brother was totally incapacitated. “No, seriously. You got to get your math done.”
“Stevie, I’m hungry,” he wailed, grabbing at his stomach this time. Unfortunately, this wasn’t an act.
Those words hurt Steve more than anything else. It was just another reminder of how he failed as a brother. He did all he could to try and provide, but considering his scholarship and how busy he always was, he was constantly falling short. He wished he had the time to get a part-time job and do practice, but it was near impossible.
That was why this opportunity with Coach James was a godsend. If it worked out the way he hoped, he’d be able to continue his athletics and make a little extra cash. He only hoped it’d be enough to keep them afloat until he could figure something else out.
He sighed, turned to his little brother, and said, “I know…I…I’ll tell you what. Later on tonight, I’ll get you a slice of pizza.” He offered Kenny what he hoped was a comforting smile as his own stomach rumbled. He ignored it; he was used to it by now.
Taking his mind off his hunger pains, he stared up at the concave ceiling, noticing how it rotted and dangled. He’d tried to fix it time and time again, but it never worked, and without money to buy the right materials, it was really a pointless effort.
The rusted mini refrigerator buzzed in the corner. He often wondered why they bothered keeping it plugged in. It wasn’t like there was anything in it in the first place. It was merely there as yet another depressing reminder of how shitty their life was.
He rubbed at his stomach again, forcing himself to ignore the pain. It wasn’t the first time Steve had gone without for his little brother, and it likely wouldn’t be the last…okay, it definitely wouldn’t be the last. There was no point sugarcoating it.
Kenny’s eyes lit up at the mention of pizza as he picked at the peeling fabric of the couch. “You will?” The hope in his voice and the smile on his lips was something that Steve missed. There was a time when all his brother had done was laugh and joke. Now he could barely remember it.
He nodded and smiled back reassuringly. “Sure.” He put his feet up on the mini coffee table, and picked up an old magazine; it was the only time he ever read.
He was just grateful that his brother was so book smart. If he managed to get him through his childhood, then he just knew that he would be okay one day. He only wished that he were too; if that were the case, then he would have figured something out by now. But no matter what he’d done growing up, he couldn’t hold his attention long enough to read an entire book, let alone score anything above a C. He just wasn’t made that way.
If it weren’t for his athletic abilities, he’d have had no opportunity to get out of the hellhole they lived in.
He looked around the ugly trailer again. Green carpet, green furniture, green walls. It was like living in an oversized peapod. And no matter how much he cleaned and scrubbed the place, it always reeked of must, sweat, and sadness. There was just no escaping the reality that was his life.
Kenny tossed his homework aside, folded his arms, and pouted. “I’m tired of being poor,” he complained, as if he’d been reading Steve’s mind.
Hearing this broke Steve’s heart. His little brother deserved better. It was just another reason why he had to make this whole sports scholarship work, and it was his responsibility to keep his brother’s spirits up until then.
“I know, Kenny, but…one day, we’ll live in a huge-ass mansion with a basketball court, and an indoor swimming pool, and we’ll go to Disney World every year,” said Steve.
Kenny gave him a disbelieving look. “We will?”
Steve sat up, leaning forward with excitement. He could see their future in his mind’s eye, and he knew that if he wanted it bad enough, it would happen…at least he could make his brother believe that. It was the same future his mother had envisioned for them one day, and now it was his job to pick up where she’d left off.
“Are you kidding? Of course, I’m getting into the pros. Then we’re going to be able to do all of that.”
Kenny slumped his shoulders. “You promise?”
Steve smiled at him, shaking the top of Kenny’s head. “You bet your ass.”
Boom! Their trailer door suddenly flew open as the two brothers swung around on the couch, gasping at the intruder. It was their father, Paul, drunk as ever. He reeked of whiskey and cigarettes as he stumbled inside, holding on to the doorframe to help maintain his balance.
As old and fit as Steve was, his father still gave him a chill down his spine when he was around. He was a big guy, much bigger than Steve, and as soon as he got a few drinks in him, he became a totally different person to the father that Steve once knew. Instinctually, he stepped in front of his little brother in an act of protection.
Steve cleared his throat and lowered his tone, trying his best to defuse the situation. “Hey, Dad, what’s up?”
Paul’s bloodshot eyes blurred out and then focused on Steve, and he kicked the coffee table as he stumbled toward him. “Shut the fuck up. I thought I told you to clean up outside.”
Steve looked out the stained sheer curtains that hung in front of their makeshift front door. “I did.” Again, he made sure to keep his voice as calm and non-threatening as possible. He knew that one wrong move could and would set his father off.
Poking his finger in the center of Steve’s chest, his father said, “There’s still weeds out in the front, and newspapers.”
His eyes darted down to his father’s fingers, which curled into a fist. Steve knew what was coming and braced himself. “Dad, it must have just blown in from—”
Slam! The strike across his face sent Steve stumbling backwards. His brother gasped, hiding in the corner as he trembled with fear.
Hearing this commotion, his father then swung in Kenny’s direction, pointing down at him. “You shut up too before you’re next.”
Steve’s blood boiled. He rubbed his jaw, having nearly tumbled to the floor from the blow. This would be a bruise he wouldn’t be able to hide. He dreamed of a day that he would be able to stand up to his father without fearing reprisal. He hated the way his father talked to his brother, and wanted nothing more than to put a stop to it permanently. Although today wasn’t that day, he could still do what he could to try and protect his brother.
He stepped in front of his brother, holding him behind him as he tried to scoot them both out of the door.
“We’ll do it right now,” Steve said, trying to keep the situation from escalating any further. “Both of us.”
His father stepped closer, a mammoth of a man compared to Steve. He used to be big and strong, a mass of knotted muscles. But now, after years of drinking, it had turned to fat. But the size still remained. “He stays inside. You do it.”
Steve didn’t want to leave his little brother alone with his dad. God only knew what could happen.
Steve took a deep breath, his nostrils flaring. “Dad, you’re drunk again. You don’t know what you’re saying—”
His hands wrapped around Steve’s throat, cutting him off. “Say that again and I’ll give you something to remember.”
Steve pulled himself from his father’s grip. “Kenny,” Steve said calmly, trying not to show how much the stranglehold had hurt him. “I want you to go outside and run to Dennis’s place. You hear?”
Kenny looked up at his big brother, fear brewing in his eyes. “But—”
“Now!” yelled Steve, and Kenny took off running without another word of argument. Paul stepped toward Kenny, but Steve blocked his path.
He’d pay for his disobedience, he knew that. But right now, that was the least of his concerns. He’d do anything for his little brother, even if it meant taking a beating.
Steve lifted his chin in defiance, staring into his father’s dead eyes. No one touched his little brother. No one.