CHINA
“I thought I’d made myself perfectly clear. Why does your brother feel he’s above my request for punctuality.” It’s not asked with the intent of an answer; it’s not even rhetorical. Mother states it as a fact. Daddy is up front, checking with the flight crew, and some of the race team have fallen asleep as we await Wyatt.
I’m ignoring Mom as she has a hissy about his lateness. If I react, answer, or even breathe the wrong way, I’ll be dealing with her wrath instead of him. I know better than that. We should have been wheels up almost twenty minutes ago. Well, forty now. This is the best part of having private jets; slight delays are overlooked when they’re on your dime. The only bad part is that when the flight plans are messed up too long, we start to deal with other issues—FAA issues.
Watching as our mother paces the cabin, I pull out my phone and text his ass again.
Me: WTF Cas?
Waiting for his answer, I curl up on the couch and stare at the screen, hoping he doesn’t desert me to her wrath for a nine-hour flight. He can’t leave me to this again. No fucking way. I know my brother, and the one thing he is is loyal to me. He won’t subject me to dealing with her alone.
Christ, if she loses it on the flight, we’ll have to sedate her again. Last time, I dealt with that shit for a week after he set her off. Sometimes, I wonder who’s worse, him or her?
Thank fuck I didn’t inherit their particular set of genes. I may have to endure it daily, being subjected to their mood swings, their abnormal highs and lows, but I’m not like them.
Flicking through my various social feeds on my cell, I don’t notice Daddy sneaking up behind me. “Any answer?”
“Nope. It’s not like him to be this late.” Which is true.
“We’ll give him twenty more, then I’ll have to deal with the captain.” Patting me on the shoulder, he bends his large frame to kiss me on the forehead. “And your brother will have to deal with me.” Shit. Not him too. To be safe, I won’t wait twenty. In five or less, I’ll be calling his ass.
“K, Daddy.”
As he leaves, he takes his innate scent with him. I’ve always loved the smell of him; all musky and vehicular. If anyone could exude the smell of a bike, car, or fighter jet, it would be my dad. He smells like danger, and that makes me feel safe in a strange way. Maybe I have an instability too, seeing as I enjoy the smell of burnt tires, raw fuel, and charred brake pads.
Looking outside to see if Wyatt is smart enough to show up before I have to call him, my phone chimes.
Cas: Sorry D. Missed the time. Running through final check.
Me: Be ready.
He knows what that means. I don’t have to explain what he’s walking in to.
Feeling a bit more at ease, I settle into the couch, laying my favorite blanket and Hello Kitty neck pillow at the end. Yeah, I know it’s childish, but it’s the softest and best pillow I’ve ever owned, so that shit goes on every long haul. With a long flight ahead, one that will be filled with endless arguments between Mom and Wyatt, with Dad bringing her down from the edge before she opens the escape hatch, the rest of us will turn a blind eye, as if it’s a bad audition on Idol.
As I’m considering how this can go wrong, Wyatt happily steps through the cabin door, overtly joyous. He’s having one of his high moments. Maybe today, we can avoid the low.
The cabin crew closes the doors behind him, essentially locking in our family fiasco. Mother takes in his attire with a facial expression that could only be described as ‘about to fuck your shit up.’
“I see there was no time to change as you delayed us all. You’ve cost this family yet again, Wyatt Jackson.” Starting off with first and middle names, I can see this flight will be fantastic.
“Don’t call me that. You know I hate that,” he snaps.
“Well I hate that you have blatant disregard for our time, our money, and our patience.” My mother can plaster on the mask of the beautiful matriarch that is poised, contained, and sugary sweet, but right now, that mask has been removed and the manic is visible. She hasn’t pushed the button that drags Wyatt down with her yet, but it’s only a matter of time before it happens.
“I race, and I raise some of that wasted money, thank you.” Reaching into his wallet, he slips out his black card and slams it down on the table. “Here, take a payment if you wish, Mother.”
Great. Now he’s being condescending.
Shaking my head, avoiding this as best as I can, I curl up and turn away from their insane need to alleviate their shortcomings on each other.
“Marca,” Dad chimes in. Touching her lightly on the arm, he motions for her to take a seat. “I’d really like to get some rest. Could you and Wyatt lay off it for a few hours at least?” He’s trying to appease her wounded psyche, which is not easy. As the two of them talk in hushed tones at the back of the plane, the majority of the race team have selected the couches in the front of the plane, leaving us the space to go through these family implosions.
When her tangents are in full swing, and Wyatt’s are meshing at the same time, we have no way to get through to either of them. Thank fuck, neither of them have guns. All I can hope is that Dad has already slipped a sedative into her drink.
With a lull in the war, Wyatt walks over to me and bends down, giving me a light squeeze. “Hey, Doll. Settled in already, I see.” Tapping my Hello Kitty pillow, he grins.
“Yeah, it was a late night.” Yawning, I nod and motion to our parents. I’m not getting into it, but let’s just say that Mother shouldn’t have drank that last champagne. She shouldn’t have drunk any of them if you want to get technical.
“Get some sleep, sweets,” he says as he backs away. In the background, I can hear Mother muttering to Dad about Wyatt and his disrespect. I can see this is going wrong fast.
I turn to my brother. “Avoid it. Don’t fall down the rabbit hole today.” It’s fruitless, I know, but I have to try. Cas understands the unsaid issues, smirking that sweet smile I love. Maybe it won’t be one of those flights. Maybe she won’t set him off? Who am I kidding. Mom is raging, and her mood will take this in a direction none of us want to deal with. There’s really no good way out of this.
As Mother flings away Dad’s hand, she storms across the cabin and faces off with my brother like a pissed off queen bee. “Wyatt, I’ve had enough of your—”
“What, Mother? What have you had enough of? You know, I walked in here, happy, because last night was fucking amazing. I enjoyed talking to a woman that didn’t rile me up like you do. I had a great race. I avoided killing some idiot and myself. I won for the third time, and I’d love for you to tell me what is it you’ve had enough of?” I see the moment the switch flips and Wyatt goes from the loving, caring, sweet brother I know to the harsh, destructive, anger-filled man that I can’t even get through to.
“You!” Screeching, her voice rises an octave as she pokes his chest.
Laughing that dangerous, sick sounding tone, he yells, “Me? I’m the fault in your life?”
“Wyatt. Sit down, son,” Dad tries to interject. Most of the time, he can talk sense into them, especially into Mom as he calms her, trying to be her balm. Sometimes, I’m the only one who can get through to Wyatt. But, today, I don’t have the energy for their conflict, so I’m leaving this one to Dad.
“No, Dad. I need to know how it is that I’ve destroyed her today, how I’ve been the crushing death on her soul for so many years.” His pain radiates in waves off his body. I’ve always felt how the pressure of their illness wrecks them equally, but I can do nothing but watch.
I stay right where I am. Out of the corner of my eye, I try to keep a watch for Ben and Dad with the sedatives. Both Mom and Wyatt will need to be controlled soon, or the flight crew won’t allow the flight to take off. We’re hitting the louder parts of this war, and the inevitable taxi back to the airport is close at hand.
“You were the mistake! You shouldn’t have touched that bike then! You shouldn’t have even—you shouldn’t have been like them! Now look at your sister, following in Wyatt fucking Casper Crown’s footsteps.” As tears stream down her cheeks as she screams, she has entered the point where no sensible conversation will be heard.
“I’ve always been your disappointment. I’m the disgusting child that touched the bike that wasn’t mine.”
“You’re absolutely right! It was James’s bike, not yours. Never yours. You were supposed to be something different!”
As Dad fills the syringes, I keep an eye on Wyatt, looking for the cues of him hitting that wall, the one where there’s no coming back from, as she degrades and berates him. He’s never hit her, but she can cuss him out so badly that he wants to harm himself. It’s the odd time I can reach him before that last stage of his illness kicks into gear, but I don’t think it’s going to happen today. He came in on a high, and she dropped him like a stone in a pond.
Trying to drown out the conversation, the two of them continue to go head-to-head with their cutting words. He’s hurting her with his, and she’s trading evil blows just as fast. Dad nods at me before advancing on Mom. Ben has his in hand as he takes a step towards Wyatt, whose back is to him. Without warning, they both plunge the needles in, allowing the liquid to flow quickly into their intended patients. Both Mom and Wyatt groan, knowing what’s happened, but unable to stop it. It’s a fast-acting concoction, thank fuck, so they should crash within moments.
“Doll, make room for your brother, please,” Ben asks as I curl further into the end. Their war ends abruptly as the medication takes hold of them. Mother’s loose body falls gently into Dad’s arms, as Wyatt’s movements becomes sluggish and lacking fight. Ben is able to direct him to the empty end of the couch.
“Night, Wyatt,” I say as Ben pulls a cover over him. I feel horrible that this has to happen, and I empathize that his control is removed, but I know it’s a necessity.
Within minutes, he’s out. Mom is curled into Dad’s chest, snoring lightly, and as the rest of the inhabitants relax now that the entertainment has ceased, I decide to sleep too.
Closing my eyes after the flight hits cruising, sleep takes me. But, before I’m able to completely get there, I hear Dad and Ben talk about the upcoming races for this month.
Each of us will be going our separate ways with our teams as soon as the tires hit the tarmac. Dad has a race at Indy. I have one in Laguna, and Wyatt is running a special in the mountains of India, or some shit.
At least he’ll have peace without Mother in his space.