CHAPTER 37 - HELLO AND GOODBYE...FOR NOW

OUTSIDE JOAN’S HOUSE - TWO HOURS LATER

BRANDON

I have never heard the street so quiet or seen the house look so small. “Maybe it will get bigger the closer we get.” I mutter.

“Huh?” Brian frowns.

I had asked Emmett not to park too close. Our neighbours are very nosy, and if any of them see me, they will call her and I want this to be a surprise, like when I found the adoption papers. If it is sprung on her she blurts out the truth, well some of it! And, I also wanted us to get here at this time, as she is one of the few early risers. She has an arrangement with the local grocery store. Despite their liquor licence not kicking in until 0800, they let her buy early as long as she says nothing about her special treatment.

“I remember it being much bigger.” I explain.

“Bran, you grew up.” Brian nudges me out of the jeep. “So how are we doing this?”

“Put your hood up.” Jewel instructs. “Both of you, and each of us spread out. Which house is it?” I point to the only one with the buttercup yellow door. “Oh, the irony!” She rolls her eyes.

“Meaning?” I ask.

“Yellow represents two things…” Pearl links arms with me, whilst Jenny does the same with Brian. “...on one side there is hope and happiness, which I suspect represents her taking you from Debs, but then on the other is the cowardice, which also refers to her. It takes a real coward to beat up a little boy.”

INSIDE JONAS HOUSE - TEN MINUTES LATER

JOAN

“Who is ringing at this time of the morning?” I grumble as I gather my things for my sabbatical walk. It’s only when I check my phone that I realise it is the doorbell. I check my reflection, then open the door. “Brandon!” I gasp. “Oh, my boy! Are you here to give me a chance to explain?”

“In part.” He replies.

“Thank you! I knew once you calmed down you would listen. Now don’t stand on the doorstep, this is your home! Come in, come in! Let me make you some tea. You still have it the same way, or have you changed much in the time you have been gone?”

“You could say I’ve changed some things about myself, but not the way I have my tea. See you in the lounge!” 

I hug myself in delight. My boy is back! I take out the crockery, then, making sure the coast is clear, check my supplies. I have three bottles, that should be enough for the next couple of days. We can rebond and move on from everything that happened! 

“I’ll get it!” He calls out as the door knocks. I hope he gets rid of them quickly, it just needs to be me and him. Together we can be a family again.

“Who was it?” I ask after I hear the door close.

“Just the postman. Hey, let me take that.” Brandon calls from the doorway. “You go and sit down, get nice and comfortable, then we chat.” 

“You’re such a good boy.” I pat his cheek and lead him into the lounge. As I enter, I am stunned to see people here. I look at Brandon in confusion. “Who are these persons?”

“You don’t recognise me, Caligula?” I flinch, then turn to the voice. “Yeah, remember me, the runt? Now that’s not quite right, is it? My full name, when you bothered to speak to me, was runt from the cunt…sit down, Jenny.” Out of the corner of my eye, I see a young girl remain standing. “...please?” 

“Not before that fart apologises for calling my Grandma that!” ‘Jenny’ glares at me.

“Come now, Caligula, you need to say sorry. After all, manners are so very important. Wasn’t that what you beat into me every day, then had Jack reinforce once you lied about what I had done?!” 

“I never did or called you anything of the sort! You still lie to this day!” I shout at him, balling my fists, wishing he was still the little boy that I could make cower with one glance. 

“Not lying, remembering, with a little help of course.” He replies coldly. “As for the people, you don’t get to know them. You don’t deserve to. Just know they are here for us.” He regards me for a few long seconds, then smirks. “I said it that day when you beat me so badly that Jack tried to get you off me, but I ended up hitting him instead of you. That's what drove you over the edge.”

Brandon dropping the tray has me whirling around, but I shrivel under the cold hatred in his eyes; its the same look he sported before he left. “Having her hair colour and mannerisms were bad enough, but no matter how hard you tried, you could not beat that out of him. However, that name, oh how that name brought all your hatred to the forefront.” 

I start to tremble. “Where is it?” The Runt takes a step forward. “Go and get it now. You have five seconds, or…”

“Brian, stop.” Brandon stands between the pair of us. “I am protecting him not you.” He sneers. “Now get what?” 

The Runt looks around the room before pointing at the bookshelf. “It was in there, wasn’t it? I bet this is where you found the adoption papers.” When Brandon nods, he pulls out the Cromwell Bible, my most treasured one. Him touching it turns my stomach. “It will be close, I think. Where in here did you find it?”

“Towards the back.” Brandon replies, before pulling out the papers. “We’ll be taking that with us. Tip it.” He orders, but nothing falls out. He looks so disappointed, which I enjoy now that he has shown his traitorous side by bringing that to my door.

“You have a glass face.” A tall woman of colour, I believe that is vernacular these days, sneers before taking the bible from him. She scrutinises the pages in silence before stroking inside of the back cover. “My pastor had one of these. Put it in pride of place on the lectern, nobody was allowed to touch it…” Her laugh lacks humour. “...turns out, that’s where he put his rubbers.” She picks at the edge of the covering for a few seconds before the corner lifts, then she rips it off. “There you go.” She hands him the envelope. 

He tears it open and starts to read, then nods. “Thank you, thank you for finding it.”

“No worries.” She smiles before glowering at me. “That’s the thing with zealots, especially hypocritical ones, they think that by putting their sins nearest the lord, it absolves them or makes them clean. It doesn’t. So why did it set her off so badly?”

“That’s what he said to her before he went out for a drink. She had sent me outside for whatever reason, but the window was open. When he came out, he asked me what I was doing, so I told him. He ordered me to go back indoors and have a hot drink, as it was so cold, but I headed straight to my room as she was in there drinking and muttering. I waited for an hour or so and crept down. I was so cold and hungry, and the place was in darkness, so I figured she was out or sleeping. I didn't realise that she wasn’t until she tried to kick me but ended up kicking the cupboard. As she was hopping around the kitchen, I couldn’t help it, I laughed and said, ‘missed Caligula’, and that was it, she stopped hopping and started beating.”

“You’re smirking! How can you be proud of that?!” Brandon snaps.

“He attacked me first!” I shout.

“With words!” Brandon seethes. “ A little name calling does not deserve that!” 

“I could not escape that name, not even in nursing school!” I yell. 

“Again, not my fault!” The Runt snarls. “For those of you that don’t know, that’s what she was called in school. Not to her face, of course, but it got back to her that’s what people were calling her. She blamed Mom…”

“It was her fault!” I snap, my temper starting to unravel.

“No it wasn’t. He came up with it all by himself. She told him not to let that get around, but of course it did.” Brandon growls. “They told us that yesterday.” Then he sighs. “Look, I got what I came for, let’s just go home to our men.”

“Your men? What does that mean?” I look from one to the other. 

“What do you think it means? Our men, our boyfriends, the persons that make us happy, both in and out of bed.” I stagger back, grabbing onto the door as I realise what he is saying. “And even better…” He snickers. “...Dad has no problem with it. He’s proud of us, loving us for us, and adoring our boyfriends.”

“You know that is against the scriptures! You have corrupted my son!” I garble. 

“He did not, and I am not your son, I never was!!” Brandon screams. “The Bible was not written by God, it was written by man, as were the seven deadly sins. And if anyone is guilty of breaking the Holy Law, it is you! First there was pride, you thought that you could get anyone, get yes, keep no! Wrath, taking your frustrations out on Brian. Envy, being so jealous of the love that Mom and Dad have for each other. Lust, cheating on Dad with Jack. Gluttony, well that’s booze isn’t it? And, finally, sloth, you are too lazy to take responsibility for your sins!”

BRIAN

Tears are flowing down his face. “You almost killed my brother, and I will never ever fucking forgive you for that! At least he said sorry, you’ve not! Instead, you’ve just lied and lied!” He takes heaving breaths, before wiping his face. “Can I have that, please?” He gestures at the bible. Jewel hands it to him. I know exactly what he’s going to do. I take great satisfaction at the crack of the breaking spine after he smashes to the ground, then he stands on the front cover so that he can rip it in half. She stands there, eyes bulging, but silent.  “Come on, let’s get out of this stinkhole. See ya, Caligula!” 

Nobody says a word as we follow him out. 

CAFE - 15 MINUTES LATER

We decide to find somewhere to decompress a bit before going back. Justin and Ben have been texted, and we are waiting for our drinks and for Bran to say something. He sighs, then frowns. “Fart? That was quite tame. I mean, of all the things that you could’ve called her, and considering how much time you’ve spent with Pearl, I would’ve…”

“Brandon, it’s an acronym...” Jewel interjects with a smile. “...drum roll, please!” 

Jenny looks proud as we oblige, until she waves for silence. “Feculent alcoholic reprehensible termagant.”

“Okay, not remotely tame! And whatever you do, don’t tell your Grandmom about that!”

“She came up with it!” Jenny beams. 

“Jewel!” Bran and I exclaim, having heard about ‘trout-gate’. 

“Well, it’s better than the fuckhead I was going for.” 

“Fuckhead?” I frown. “Okay break it down?”

“Nothing to break down, plain and simple she’s a fuckhead.”

JOAN’S HOUSE - THIRTY MINUTES LATER

BEDROOM

JOAN

I have cleaned up the mess that The Runt caused him to make, now I am tired. I make sure the tray is stable as I get into bed, finally giving way to my tears. Whilst they are partly for the corruption of Brandon, I am so furious that The Runt has become the person he is! He is so much stronger, not just physically, but mentally. I no longer scare him, and I hate that! 

I take the iPad that Brandon got me for Mother’s Day last year, and ponder where to start. I lied to Jack about knowing he was thriving. To be honest, I couldn’t care less. When Jack said he was with his cousin for the holidays, we left it at that. I was with the cop for a couple of months, but then I found out he was seeing  another woman...not just any other woman, but a friend of one of Jack’s drinking buddies. 

Sighing, I take a long sip of my drink and begin to search up on The Runt. I can't believe it. Millions! He is worth millions, and I know I won’t see one cent, despite me bringing him up, when she abandoned them! My head sinks against the pillow as I absorb this. He survived because of my discipline! As I continue to read about everything that he has achieved, the opening of Woody’s was very successful by all accounts, I find out the name of the woman who found the letter, Jewel Johnson. Surely there can’t be many with that name who look like her! I am proved right when I find her quite easily, and oh does she have an interesting history! 

I see another witness to my humiliation from the article. Although he didn’t say anything, his presence was bristling with hostility. Then I see who he is sitting next to. I know that face, that is Drew Boyd. Now why would a straight, ex-Iron Man be in a place like that? And what would they be willing to give me to keep from asking?