Time Lapse!

3- Rivergrove

Baton Rouge - May 26th, 1957

I'm scared to go downstairs.

I woke up a while ago and did my daily weights routine. I should have been downstairs about 10 minutes ago, having breakfast with my family. But Maminka hasn't called me to come, I can't hear the clinking of silver against ceramic, I can't even hear Táta's deep voice talking to Maminka or Jozef, my older brother.

"Grow a pair, Lucas. Go downstairs." I told myself as I slowly turned the doorknob and peeked outside. Smells like bacon. It's a trap. A trap I have already fallen into. I skip downstairs, forgetting the fear of facing my parents because of the heavenly smell of the greasy, crunchy goodness.

I skipped downstairs in the manliest way possible, okay?

Everyone was sitting at the table waiting for me, their food untouched. "Glad you could make it, son." Táta spoke first, earning a nod from me. "Yes, I had to finish my routine." I commented, still unsure of how they will react about yesterday's events. "Oh, of course." He said calmly, looking over to Maminka. Apparently that was her queue.

"Did you have a good night, son?" Maminka said, looking at me.

"Yes, I did. Thanks for asking." My brother Jozef answered before I could. His voice was deeper and more accented than mine. He lived in Brno seven more years than I did, after all.

Maminka turned to him and raised her eyebrows. "That's good, Jozef. What about you, Lucas?"

"It was good." I mumbled. "Thanks for asking." I quickly added.

Maminka hummed. "Good, good." We then proceeded to do our prayer, and then we ate.

Small talk took over the table. We talked about Jozef mainly. How was his job going, how was his girlfriend doing, whether was he going to marry her anytime soon; stuff like that. He was 25, a "grown man" to my parents' eyes. I was still the baby in the family, being 18 and all. Funny thing is that their baby has been sent to prison one time, while their grown man can't kill a fly. Don't get me wrong, he is buffer than me, he was Uncle Dominik's body structure, but he is just too nice. War can mark you in many different ways; it can either make you a lonely, traumatized soul that can't help but to revive that moment forever; it can make you violent, punching and killing as a first resource to "solve" problems, or it can make you scared of violence and death, trying at all costs to avoid that kind of conflict. Jozef is the latter, he's a peacemaker. I'm not violent, believe me, but if someone I love is in danger, I won't hesitate on breaking someone's entire body.

"Lucas? Lucas! Are you listening to your mother?" Táta said while firmly hitting the table to get my attention. I snapped out of my train of thought.

"What? Oh, no I am not. I'm sorry." I said, looking at my mother waiting for her to repeat what she was saying. She took a deep breath and started again.

"Well, as you know, your father and I are very disappointed about what you did yesterday. Even if you did so to protect Dalek, It was not the right approach to the situation. So--" Maminka started sayinf firmly, but Táta interrupted.

"It still was a perfect uppercut to that guy's nose, I give you that." Táta said and winked at me, earning a glare from Maminka. "Don't encourage him, Havel." Maminka warned Táta. "It was a pretty good punch, Blanka. Go on dear." Táta shrugged her off. Maminka recomposed herself.

"Right. That was inappropiate behavior. We were aware that you and your friends have taken part in some... activities... that aren't exactly legal. Vandalizing cars and buildings, mostly, some pranks here and there as well. Boys do that, and the pranks we really had no big issue about them, they were meant to harm no one. When we knew you were vandalizing we took our measures with you." Oh, and they did. I can still feel the wooden plank smacking my perfectly curved gluteus maximus. "But going to jail because of physical assault is another different matter. This is unacceptable, Lucas." Maminka frowned when saying this.