The Underground Book Trade

Chapter Two

Roselines stomped up the front steps and into a small kitchen scattered with plates holding the remains of previous dinners. Joseph shut the screen door carefully behind her. He placed a single warning finger on his pressed thin lips.

Roseline nodded apologetically. Joseph walked carefully ahead of his sister, his fingers twitching. A loud shattering sounded from above their heads, and their faces snapped upwards towards the ceiling. Joseph's body tensed as Roseline 's eyes fill with a heavy fear. She moved in front of her brother with shaking feet and a chin tilted upwards. Joseph smiled one of those smiles that have a certain sadness tingling at the corners as he pushed his sister gently out of the way.

"I'll handle this." His words come out in whisper which float across the silent kitchen like a secret hastily hidden from prying ears. "No, you won't," comes Roseline's own whisper, tight with worry.

A crunching resonated from above as stumbling feet lumber across the floor of the upstairs room. Two feet stomp down the rickety stairs residing on the other side of the dank kitchen, causing the floor to accumulate already teetering, now broken, plates. The feet come slowly into view, one boot clad and one bare. They drag themselves forwards, delivering a bright face ruddy with drink and framed by matted brown hair.

Glazed eyes stare at the siblings, who stand frozen, fear in their eyes but with identically pleasant smiles plastered onto their faces. "Where've you been?" The words stumble out into the kitchen like they'd just gotten back from a quite miserable pub crawl.

Roseline forgot in her fright that she was supposed to be looking defiant, so she jutted her chin out once more, in contrast to her smile. She clenched her fists behind her back. "No where,  Father." She replied with a cheerful tone.

Her father squinted at her as a small burp escapes from his plump lips. His green eyes skip around the kitchen as his entire body sways, then focus on Joseph's face. They gain some sort of flimsy clarity. "You, boy." He says the words as if unsure of the anger suddenly bubbling up inside of him. A bright red fist twitches as he regains strength from some emotional storage within.

"Yes, Father?" Joseph replies with practiced ease, though he still had a tremor of fear in his voice. His father's words were spit out, as if they detested themselves.  "You just left. You can't just leave. You've got to help me-" the man hiccuped, "help me get money for this God forsaken family." He accumulated anger and his voice rose. "While I'm workin' hard you've been off having fun? You think you can do that?! You think you can just have fun while the rest of us are in misery?!" He was shouting now and Joseph slunk a fearful step backwards. "You can't. You can't do that!" The elder Beuquin slung a heavy fist fowards, missing Joseph by a handful of inches.

"You have to suffer for this family, just like everybody else. You have support your sister you useless-"  "Father please." Roselines protests suddenly, her fear evident in her voice and in her eyes. She moves to protect her brother, but he shoves her, hard, out of the way. "Roseline, get out." he says promptly, turning to run himself. Roseline grabs his arm and sprints across the tight kitchen. As they reach the scuffed door Joseph is jerked around. His sneakers slide across the floor as his fear sprouts clearly across his pale and trembling face.

A shaking hand was gripping the boy's shoulder tightly. Roseline stood frozen besides her brother. "You ought to learn." her father says, his face inching closer to Joseph's pale one. With a sudden burst he shakes the boy. The youjg Beuquin's head slams into the wooden door behind it and the placid kitchen is splattered with splinters.

Drops of blood fly, disrupting the peaceful specks of dust. The floor is painted in dots of red and even the sunlight seems to dim. More precariously positioned plates tip, then fall, the shards mixing with the blood and chaos now overtaking the once serene kitchen.

A slim piece of wood had lodged itself into the scalp of Joseph. He was vaguely aware of blood trickled down his neck as his vision was dotted with fizzing blackness. As if from a far off world, he heard Roseline scream.