Bloody Story 1987

Page 21

The shades are drawn and the room is dark like mine was this morning as Sam rushes in with me following behind him. "Michael, wake up! It's Mom!" A few hours of organizing and cleaning and here we are, Michael stirs slowly at the sound of our brother's voice, the retriever of the family is as blonde as an actual dog and just as hyper and sweet, an awfully nice quality I enjoyed."Mom's home?" It's quiet as Sam looks at me confused, I speak for him, "no Michael, she's on the phone asking for you." Michael's head moves towards the clock and I notice he's got dark shades that aren't his laying next to him, "it's two in the afternoon." Sam sounded disappointed, "Oh, shit..." We watched as he fumbled for his sunglasses only to grab them and slide them on, then he picked up the phone by his bed taking a second to sigh. Sam notices how long Michael's fingernails are and is pointing at them subtly, I am thoroughly disgusted by the sight. Jagged long nails are the epitome of nasty, "Michael... Are you freebasing? Inquiring minds want to know!" Michael gives Sam a hostile look, then speaks into the phone. "Hi, Mom..." I shake my head at his voice, tired and raspy, he sounded sick.

"No. I'm up." I looked around his room and grimaced, I heard Michael speak again in a nasty tone, "I watch him all day. The only time I have for myself is at night. Let Grandpa watch him." I rolled my eyes and groaned under my breath, and I heard our mom through the phone, she was aggravated, "Grandpa has plans of his own. Michael, I want you to do this. Everybody has been bending over backwards for you. You come home late. You sleep in to the middle of the day, Sam is always alone with your sister. You do exactly what you want... tonight do what I want for a change." My eyes are wide and Michael is silent before talking sweetly, "Okay." Michael hangs up the phone and looks at his fingers as I shake my head with a scoff. "Come on Sammy," I turned leaving, Sam looked saddened, disappointed but turned and followed me out of the room.

Down in the kitchen we're sat around the counter, Sam's got a bowl of cheeto's and has just grabbed two slices of bread when our grandfather walks in looking 'spiffy' Sam starts slapping together a couple of bologna sandwiches as I look at the older man in a suit and tie. He begins to bang around through the kitchen cupboards. "Anything in here that might pass for after shave?" I raise a brow confused as to why he didn't naturally just have any but he was a recluse so I passed that thought quickly. Sam picked up a bottle of Windex from the kitchen window and handed it to him, "no, Sam..." Grandpa examines the bottle, squirts a little onto his hand and smells it. Then splashes it on. "Thanks." My mouth drops open and my first thought when I see his cheeks shiny with windex is that it can't be healthy. Michael walks in behind me looking tired with his glasses still on. He still wears his sunglasses and when he spoke I nodded, "Big date, Grandpa?"

"Just dropping off some of my handiwork to the 'Widow' Johnson." I smiled looking towards Sam and wiggling my brows, "Oh, yeah. What'd you stuff for her? Mr. Johnson?" My face shone with disgust and I shot Michael a look, our Grandfather and Sam giving him one as well. "See you later, boys, make sure they don't touch my Oreo's Willow." I nodded looking away from our older brother first. I watched him leave with a renewed pip in his step and as soon as the door closed, "That wasn't funny." I turn my back towards the permed leather wearing teen.