Scrapped Together

Chapter Seven: Top to Bottom

Waking up bright an early the next morning, a still healing John Dory put his plan into action. Then he did the same thing the morning after that, and the one after that, and even the one after that...

From resuming the level of house work and chores now typical of his efforts, to tidying up the exterior of the pod top to bottom, and beginning a rigorous schedule of maintaining his brothers personal hygiene, appearance, and behavior John Dory's days weren't just full, they were overflowing with responsibility. 

More than that however, they were overflowing with anxiety. He was used to the constant nervousness of waiting for mom to become something hideous, the need to keep his secret stashes of snacks well stocked, and his usual chores done. The new fear of his father's temper, accompanied by the weight of his community's scrutiny, and duty of keeping his brothers in line however, was nearly enough to break the child.

Most nights the boy couldn't sleep well. His mind would buzz too loudly with those angry hornets that had taken up residence in his brain. In the fevered beat of their wings John Dory could hear the remarks of Gigi's family, and those of his neighbors which he was now keenly aware of. Everyone thought poorly of them, everyone hated them, everyone but his grand-folks... but that was just because they were lonely.

More often than not, the pressure of all of it would crush his ribs, squeezing the very air from his lungs, building in his head until colorful splotches danced through his vision as much needed rest eluded him. Still though, he wouldn't cry. He didn't have the time or energy to waste on tears. Instead he laid there, night after night, wide awake, thinking. 

Making lists helped. A running catalog of each and every task he intended to complete recited to himself in the dark with the same comforting repetition as one of Clay's prayers.

After a while Mom, dad, and Grandma Rosiepuff all seemed to take notice of this change, as they watched John Dory's immense efforts to try and fix their broken family. As a result each and every one of them tried to sabotage his work. A part of him hated them for it. Didn't they want to be better? Didn't they want all of the whispering and looks to stop? Didn't they hate being the way they were? Weren't they as embarrassed and ashamed as he was?

From his early morning race against mom to be the first up, and get the cleaning started, which mom was, in John Dory's opinion, lackadaisical about, to his frequent arguments with dad about his brother's conduct, and the vast amout of stuff they just didn't need, John Dory was at his wits end! But, the two always seemed to have an answer for the foils to his work.

Mom would always say she couldn't sleep as she got up earlier and earlier each day just to vex him. John Dory would walk into the kitchen ready for the task ahead, only to find mom waiting for him as she sipped her morning tea. Then, with no other recourse he would sulk over to whatever breakfast she had prepared for him, and devise ways to get around her as he stared at some missed area. Clumps of dust seemed to ever reside in the corners of the room. Clumps he resented her for. Clumps he would tidy away with a damp cloth whenever the opportunity first presented itself. 

Dad always had an argument lined up each time John Dory confronted him over the management of the household, the clutter, the mess, and the way his brothers presented themselves to the world. Dad would listen to his concerns, only to counter that the boys were just being boys, and acting their age. He would say that he had worked hard to provide for a comfortable life for his family, one that he was proud of, and that there would be no such culling of things John Dory felt got in the way, toys, or otherwise. 

Dad had caught John Dory disposing of a few unnecessary items in spite of his lectures more than once. As a result time-outs were becoming a frequent part of John Dory's new routine, one for which he despised his father.