Rip - Becoming Whole

Reunion

Paul and Rip were sitting on one of the two benches in front of the tattoo parlour. Shredding his lips with his teeth, wiping his sweaty hands on his jeans, while at the same time trying to stop his legs from shaking, he tried to remain calm enough to stay seated. 'You're not in trouble, he said,' Rip tried to remind himself. He had told Paul there was no need to stay but was glad he did anyway. God knows what he would have done had he left.

When he saw the two black trucks slowly roll towards them from either side of the road, Rip stood up and for a split second contemplated if he should make a run for it but as if he knew what he was thinking Paul got up to stand beside him and gently put his hand under Rip's elbow, not holding onto him but only just lightly cupping his elbow with his massive hand, just enough to let him know he was still there. For a moment Rip thought it was Robert who was standing behind him. Surprised, Rip swiftly pulled away from him and looked up at Paul, who pretended he didn't notice Rip flinch away but kept his eyes fixed on Mr Dutton's black truck coming in from the right.

Mr Dutton's truck came to a stop, alongside Paul's van, right in front of them. Rip only now saw that Chrissy was sitting beside his uncle on the passenger seat. He tried but couldn't read either of them. They both looked void of emotion, looking at him blankly which troubled him so that he ended looking away.

Robert brought his truck to a halt sideways, parallel to the sidewalk, and right behind the back of his uncle's truck and Paul's van, effectively blocking Paul in. Robert looked at them momentarily, he seemed angry but then he broke the eye contact, looking straight ahead, almost as if he had stopped there completely by accident, as if nothing of this had anything to do with him. Rip didn't know what to make of this and looked around to Paul, wondering what he would make of this gesture. If Paul felt threatened, he didn't let on, quite the opposite, if anything he seemed amused.

When he had first noticed Robert's truck roll towards them in the distance, Rip thought he had seen Jacob in the passenger seat but now he was gone. He looked around, and sure enough there was Jacob walking towards them on the sidewalk from the right. Like that time when he stayed up all night with Chrissy, Jacob made a V-sign with his fingers, that he pointed first at his own eyes than at Rip. This time Jacob grinned however. They had obviously considered he might do a runner.

Mr Dutton said something to Chrissy and then got out of the truck. She remained seated, looking at Rip her lips twitching, pouting maybe, he couldn't tell from the distance and through the windscreen.

His uncle's reassurances from earlier were now pretty much lost in his emotions. Feeling nervous and afraid, Rip swiftly turned his head looking for an alternative escape just in case, only to discover that Chrissy's father was also walking towards them but from the other side of the sidewalk. They were obviously taking no chances it seemed.

Fear turned into annoyance and then anger as he suddenly felt trapped, treated like an escaped convict and a cornered animal.

He looked back at Paul who sat himself back down on the bench behind them. Rip saw how he looked around, arms crossed in front of his chest, he seemed aware of everyone closing in on them but didn't seem to care and was certainly not intimidated by any of it. Rip on the other hand was getting madder by the minute, no longer nervous he looked from one man to the other until his angry scowl came to a halt on his uncle, who stood a few meters away from him at the front of his truck.

He just stood there emotionless, looking back at Rip glaring at him for what seemed like ages.

He didn't seem angry, none of them did, but Rip knew better, so he stayed put. Annoyed, he had no intention to move from his spot, wondering only who would be easier to get past, when his uncle finally would snap, Jacob, his uncle or Mr Dunne? Not for a moment considering the destination, should he make a run for it.