Scrapped Together

Chapter Three: Radiance

Life was different after Clay was born, very, very different. If John Dory thought being a big brother had been fraught with its own set difficulties and upheavals, he had no idea what being a double brother truly meant.

Just like the last time he'd gotten a baby brother, there was the usual crying at strange hours in the night. His schedules were thrown out the window, mealtime, and bath night in particular caught in a savage flux. Trashcans overflowed with dirty diapers, and there were mountains of seemingly untamable piles of clothes in the laundry room. The house, which had been fragrant and bright, what with Spruce's early successes in potty training, at least, early when compared to John Dory, it now had that perpetual sour smell of half digested milk.

Only this time they had Grandma Rosiepuff.

Grandma Rosiepuff was an angel. Not only did she invite them to her pod for dinner frequently, she would drop by unannounced with meals or an assortment of baked goods, somehow, when they were needed most. She also came by once a week to help tackle what at times seemed to be an insurmountable amount of chores and cleaning. She even made sure to take the time to do all the little things that made the pod feel more homey, like opening the curtains, and setting out bouquets of fresh flowers.

It would have been next to perfect, if it wasn't for one thing: Spruce.

The way Spruce responded to the change in family dynamics was, disruptive, to say the least. He had become clingy, demanding, and mean, biting at every opportunity he got, tails a preferred and much bruised target.

Made angry by jealousy, and perhaps even a feeling of abandonment as the "baby," was forced to become the "big boy," Spruce was sure to let his feelings be known in a number of ways. From refusing naps and failing to sleep through the night, to defiantly protesting use of the bathroom warranting a return to diapers, he even stole baby Clay's pacifiers (when he had gone without his own for months prior to Clay's arrival). Spruce kept everyone on their toes.

Dad called it "regression, or the act of returning to one's previous state." John Dory who liked his room a certain way, and the rules of games abided by called it "being bad." Mom and Grandma called it "a precursor to the terrible twos."

Whatever it was however, it was a nightmare and absolutely none of John Dory's things or activities were safe. From torn up drawings to demolished block villages and ripped apart bedding Spruce found every opportunity he could to make John Dory miserable.

Or, so it seemed to the five year old.

The worst part of it however, was when John Dory would reach his breaking point. Upset beyond the use of words whenever he would finally do something about it, then, suddenly, he was the one who got in trouble. All because he was older, the big brother, and should have known better. It was just too much for him at times, and then the oldest of the three children would cry and throw fits right on par with the youngest.

It was during one such incident when Spruce broke one of John Dory's most beloved toys, a twisting ladder of wood and ribbons that dad had made him.

John Dory gaped in shock, as he watched Spruce pick his ladder up from the shelf and smash it into the footboard of his bed during a toddler sized tantrum. The sting of loss and outrage brought angry tears to John Dory's eyes as he saw his toy hanging by one frayed ribbon. Fists clenched and shaking the five year old couldn't reign in his temper. What he'd intended to be a shove, his usual means of righting his brother's wrongs against him, became something more.

Surprising even himself when he stuck Spruce, John Dory stared down at his little brother where he cried on the floor. Shock, regret, and the fearful knowledge that he was going to get in trouble mingled in his belly, making it ache.