ᴘᴏᴋᴇʀ ғᴀᴄᴇ || ʙ. ʙᴀʀɴᴇs

𝐗𝐈𝐈𝐈

Sam had just left Isaiah's house, he was still mad when he got an idea, he took his phone out of his pocket and dialed a number, "Sarah, I'm comin' home."

. . .

Back in New Orleans, Sam and his nephews work on the beat, "Good job, guys. In about 10 years, we'll have this thing fixed. Would be fun to take the boat out one more time, before we sell it? There's a great spot in Grand Isle, your grandfather used to take me, catch a lot of fish," Sam smiles at the memory.

The boys look at each other and then to their uncle, "But Mom said we can't sell it."

"What?"

"It's too messed up. Mr. Dinh said he wouldn't buy it 'cause it cost more to fix. And then he said something else in Vietnamese," one of the boys say, the other agrees, "Yeah," Sam gives the boys a tight-lipped smile, "I'll be right back, boys," he walks off the boat quickly and runs into the house. Sarah is at the kitchen counter making food when Sam startles her, slamming the back door, "Why didn't you say somethin'?"

Sarah looks away, "I didn't wanna tell you last night when you were lookin' all sad puppy dog in the rain," he rolls his eyes, "It was a rough day."

"You mean with Isaiah Bradley? And what they did to him," Sam's sudden silence was enough for Sarah, she set down the things in her hands and turned to face her brother, "You wanna talk about it?"

"No. I'm trying to figure out what it all means."

"Okay, well, I'm here," she sighs, "But as far as the boat is concerned, bottom line is, Mr. Dinh backed out. I don't know what to do. Parts alone on that thing are gonna eat up most of what we get back," Sam over to her and embraces her in a comforting hug, "Listen to me. Don't worry. I'm gonna fix the boat."

Sarah chuckles, "Aren't you supposed to be off saving the world? Why are you back here bothering me?"

"'Cause my family's well-being is a part of the world," Sarah smacks her lips, "So you're waiting for a lead?"

"And the government stepped in and took control and kind of benched us," Sam's nephews ran through the back door and grabbed their lunches for school, on their way out, Sarah stopped them, "Oh! Hey, guys. Please make sure Bennett and Elling each get one," she hands them each a styrofoam box, "Okay?"

"Okay," she gives the boys each a hug and Sam fist-bumps them on the way out, "All right. Bye. Have a good day at school, guys!"

The boys leave the house and Sarah sighs, "Bennett and Elling's dad cannot get up before noon. Kids keep showing up hungry, but are too proud to ask for any help," Sam looks at a few other boxes on the counter, "And you're like Mom, feeding every kid in the neighborhood." Sam pauses, "How many people still owe Mom and Dad something?"

"All of them. All that's left, for sure."

"Hmm... It might be time to call in a few of those favors. I'm gonna fix this damn boat."

. . .

Sam pulled out his phone and started dialing as many numbers as he could think of, "Hey, it's Sam Wilson."

"Hi, Sam."

. . .

"Yeah. Paul's youngest boy from up the street."

"How's your sister?"

. . .

"Hey, Miss Paddy. You remember my mom and dad?"

"Yes, I remember."

. . .

"Hey, Mr. Falcon. What's happenin' with you, boy?"