Later that evening Brian and I sat on the couch watching tv while Angus sat in a chair away from us. No one had said a word to each other since this morning. The phone rang again and Brian went to answer it. Chances were it was Malcolm telling him when he'd come back or checking up on his brother. I kept my eyes glued to the tv, but out of the corners of them I saw Angus staring at me. He looked almost angry. Or just really annoyed. Not in general, with me. Angry or annoyed with me. I told myself it was just the alcohol but he was off that by now. This was all him. I glanced at him and he looked away.
Brian came back in a few minutes and said Malcolm would be back around two or three in the morning. Well that's just great. But at least he was coming home to see Angus. Maybe he'd know or at least figure out what his problem was. "Don't know if you guys wanna stay up to see him, he's probably gonna sleep as soon as he gets here anyway."
"He'll deal with me first," Angus mumbled. "I'm not a baby, I can deal with my fucking self-"
"Then Christ Angus, stop actin' like one! Mal's got more right to get after you than any of us, if he calls you out, it's 'cause it's true! This ain't like you mate, you scared the shit out of us."
"Sorry," he mumbled annoyed.
"You're not sorry," Bon said. "He's right ya' know, about Mal kickin' your ass. Mate, what the hell?" Angus didn't answer, didn't even look at him. "You'd have died, then how's your wife gonna see ya'?" Angus lowered his head. Ellen would probably never forgive him for his idiotic stunt and that would have killed him a second time. "What about Hannah, hmm?" Hannah. What about her? She would have forgiven him. He could do the stupidest thing, even hurt her, and she'd still forgive him. His anger built up again. She made it so hard to forget about her. He'd run away, she'd run after him. He'd hide, she'd find him. He accidentally nearly kills himself, she saves his fucking life! Sure he was grateful, he really didn't want to die. But it couldn't have been anyone else? She was the stress in the first place. That gratefulness was buried alive.
"Angus!" Angus' head shot up to meet Brian's.
"What?" he yelled. Brian shook his head.
"Figures. Haven't been listenin' to a word I said, have you?" Angus put his head down again. "You know you could at least fucking answer!"
"No, I haven't. Not a fucking word Brian, not a single. Fucking. Word. I've been thinkin' to myself about this whole charade to get away from you snappin' at me every shittin' second okay? Mal's already bloody pissed okay? Maybe I've got nothin' to say to anyone. Okay?!" he yelled and went to go upstairs.
"No you don't Ang. I don't want you goin' up there gettin' wasted again, you're stayin' right here," Brian pointed to the chair.
"'M not gonna get wasted again," Angus told him exasperated.
"Hannah and I don't know that."
"Can I at least go outside then? I promise not to get high off the weeds."
"Piss off Ang, go ahead. But stay in the yard, don't run off."
"Yes Mum," he mumbled. Brian swore to himself as he went to the kitchen. Angus went to the backyard without another word.
