A New Day, The Other Me chapter 6

The Office of Dr. Gene Hill, December 19th

After further review of my case load I have come to the conclusion that I need fewer clients with transparent problems. I get the remainder of my work filed away and settle down to my last two patient files. A joined case but the psyche of the patients is off by a sea of differences. First file is for Bethany Delauter.

-Youngest in her family, coped with it by developing advanced social skills over others including her twin.

-Lost mother at before her teen years, not a lot of information on coping until new mother persona was discovered.

-New mother entered life and dependant psychology of the time dictated a need to seek out attention and praise. Child assimilated to characteristics of new mother.

-Jealousy of existing child (see adjoining case) caused a backlash of hate and advanced social skills turned to manipulation, bribery and blackmail to force a wedge in between new mother and brother.

My established timeline for Bethany’s problems is solid and her response to our sessions has been moderately positive for the most part. Still the patient’s greedy personality overweighed her own mental image of how she perceived herself and her family unit. Bethany over the course of two months has grown out of her hatred for step sibling and sees that her alienation of him has done more harm to the family than help. Further exposure and inspection by the patient of her actions have also given her remorse and patient wishes to make amends with step sibling.

All of it is part of what Mark Delauter Sr. paid me for as the rest of the family was ignorant or blinded by the youngest daughter as to her actions and the actions of exterior forces on the patient, Guy Donnelly.

-Child of divorce at an early age, isolated and fearful of outside world the child dug into himself and instead of acting out for attention hid from it (verify parenting style of biological father with Mother).

-Severe case of emotional neglect due to Mother’s alcoholism and grief turned to internal and external isolationism from patient.

-New Step siblings added to neglect and emotional void with further abuse, threats of violence, or general apathy to situation.

-Lack of supervision allowed patient to build greater emotional walls and separate self from family unit despite internal desire for acceptance and positive emotional response.

-External abuse in school enabled patient to develop plans to escape environment despite potential for failure whether observed or oblivious to situation.

-Some progress made with breaking down of emotional barriers with patient. Family must allow patient to express emotions without justification of actions.

Rereading Guy’s file I get to my last notes and think back to his outbursts both on myself and on his family I have to review my recordings. He’s distressed, obviously but why? It’s not confrontation causing him to lash out nor is it fear, both of those would have manifested themselves in more obvious times. My concern is that there is something rooted in Guy that he knows about subconsciously but he doesn’t actually feel yet. The walls, the lack of emotions and unwillingness to make connections to others from an emotional stand point could all be a sort of safety catch all for Guy so that he doesn’t change into something he feels he can’t control. Continued review and interviews with members of the family, specifically his step sister Abigail point to panic attacks when met with stressors that she saw as fear attacks. My worst case scenario is that it’s not fear or terror that is causing the panic attacks but more so rage. Not anger or simply being upset at something, a pure rage.

I set the file down and pinch the bridge of my nose thinking on Guy’s actions. If he is shielding everyone from his rage then it’s important that I resume working with the family to prepare them for moments when he will allow it to leak out of himself and onto those around him. It won’t be pretty but if we can safely allow him to vent his pent up rage onto people who will listen and understand it will be better the alternative. I shudder to think of what happens when someone finally allows their pain to encompass their life and with Guy that exception can be worse. Simple formula really, take the abused and decent person and remove all the filters that they have to prevent themselves from lashing out at the world. Then when they are forced to feel and act upon their feelings they have no self control, no restraint and no remorse. Guy feeling his emotional range considering what he has inside himself would be catastrophic.

Guy Donnelly: Christmas Morning

Waking up tired on Christmas morn is a pretty usual thing but after Mrs. Lawson aka Cassandra’s visit after the party a couple nights ago sleep has been helpful. I still don’t understand what is happening with me in regards to this ‘family’ that seems to want me around now. It was almost three months ago now that nobody even gave a damn whether or not I was coming down to dinner. Now its Christmas morning and I’m probably being waited for by everyone. I pull on the Christmas pajamas that we purchased for me, not my idea to wear a snowman’s face on my ass, but I go through the trouble of getting the two pieces on and make my way downstairs. I think I’m the only one up until I hit the TV room where the tree is and see Mom sitting on the couch with Mr. Delauter. They’re cuddled up together and drinking a cup of coffee by the smell as I step in the room.

“Merry Christmas,” I beat them to the greeting and see them both smile that I’m there.

“Merry Christmas,” I am hit back with it and I take a spot in the corner chair.

The rest of the family makes their way down and Mark looks especially goofy in old pajamas that don’t quite fit and we sit down to begin going through presents. I keep more of an eye on everyone else as they unwrap their gifts and finally it gets to mine, the ones I got for them and I wait quietly. Mark opens his first and like most others from me the box is small. Everyone watches him remove a pendant shaped like a shield with an angel on the front holding a sword and shield while wearing armor. It takes him a second to read the paper and quietly he puts the pendant on and looks humbled.

“Mark what is it,” Mom asks leaning forward.

“It’s a guardian pendant, like an angel one. Thanks bro,” Mark answers Mom then turns to me.

Mr. Delauter is next, him I got some black gold cufflinks. He swears he never has any good dark cufflinks for his black suit. He smiles and gives me an appreciative nod. After him it’s Mom and she was difficult to get something appropriate and while finding the frame, a simple silver one, finding a picture of us when she wasn’t in a bar. I dug it out of an old box but it’s from move number two and had the old picture touched up of us in a restaurant booth smiling. I look kind of sad in my smile but Mom is her old bright happy self and when Mom finally gets a good look at it she has to stop and check her tears a bit before thanking me with a smile. My last gift, other than the t shirt to Rosa that says ‘I will cut you bitch’ in Spanish on it, is the one to Abigail and Bethany. One box and both names on it have them a little confused and Beth does the opening so they can pull out mated lockets. I say mated because they are one piece of jewelry that separates into two pieces each with a chain and when the separate pieces open there is a picture. Abby’s has Beth’s picture and reversed, took me a bit but Rosa helped me find it of the two of them when they were my age around the divorce. I am being asked for an explanation by the looks on their faces.

“You’re twins, you seem to forget that you are and you have nothing current that shows it. I figured you needed reminding,” I explain as Mr. Delauter smiles at it.

“He’s right actually, we can even move you both back into a single bedroom again,” their Father says and the immediate argument is met with joking laughter.

I get a few decent gifts, membership to the gym with Mark. Beth got me a book on how to talk to women, I think it was a joke and Abigail got me a new game for the massive system I got from Mom as a bribe/make up gift. I keep looking at it as a ‘she felt bad and wanted to do something’ as opposed to a ‘Need to make up for the guilt I feel and try to get him to love me again’. I don’t open mine all at once mind you, I get them opened in turn as everyone opens one from someone else and while there aren’t a lot of gifts we each get someone something and finally it comes to the end and I have to wonder where my gift from Mom or Mr. Delauter is. He hands me a small box from my stocking with my name on it and after the paper and opening the box I find a set of keys with a rabbit’s foot on the other end. I shrug and look a little confused as he leads me to the garage with the family in tow.

“No more rides to school with the others unless you want to,” Mr. Delauter says as he flips the light on to the garage and I see it, I don’t believe it but I see it,” I’m told it’s a special car. The 1967…”

“The 1967 Ford Shelby GT 500… Water-cooled Pushrod V-8, cast iron block and heads, 2 x 4-bbl Holley Carburetor… Three speed automatic transmission with a torque converter,” I know the details, I’ve known them for over ten years,” Why?”

“Well your Mother said this car was special to you,” Mr. Delauter begins to explain and I can see the look of terror on my mother’s face.

“It is special to me… me and my father. This was our thing, the dream car… but it’s just a dream because he’s dead,” I don’t even want to touch the car, it feels like I’m looking at a tombstone,” This was his dream, his and mine. Why couldn’t you leave it alone?”

I don’t wait for an answer, I really don’t want one right now as I step past everyone and head up to my room. I know everyone wants to make everything alright and hopes I’ll feel better but I’m quite literally living over the dead dreams my father and I had years ago before life broke me. I’ve been sitting for what feels like an hour or two when there is a knock at my door that waits for me to answer it which I do after the second try only to find Mr. Delauter standing there waiting for me.

“May I come in, I’d like to speak with you and try to explain myself,” he asks and I shrug stepping away, better to get it over with.

“Is this where you didn’t plan for me to react so poorly or where you just hoped a big shiny car would keep me from hurting Mom,” I ask moving to my chair to sit down.

“Neither actually, I planned for a reaction but you were more dedicated into the car than I thought and it caught me off guard. I know it was you and your father’s dream to work on one together and eventually you’d get it when you were an adult,” he begins to explain and I want to speak but he holds up his hand to stop me,” It wasn’t there to hurt you, even though it did. I got that car because it was something good from before us, me and my children and I wanted you to have something that you could connect with to your father.”

“You got me my Dad’s dream car so I could remember him,” I ask and he nods,” That’s bullshit. If you wanted me to remember him you’d dig up a picture or something. Buying me the dream car is you trying to replace him like your children wanted my mom to replace your wife.”

“No! They did not replace their mother with yours! That is a cop out and you are being petty and short sighted. Stop thinking about how things are affecting everyone else and try to see something from my point of view. You have been scared, hurt and alone for almost a decade and all I wanted was to give you a piece of your past, untouched, untarnished so that one day if we find your father you and he can have something together. I don’t need you to be my son and you have done well enough without me as your father but I am your guardian and I WILL protect you as best I can and when I can’t I will take up the charge and fight for you. I should have been doing it long before now but I’m not a good parent when it comes to some of these things,” Mr. Delauter’s raised voice and impassioned speech is good and it feels more honest than when Mom got me the giant ass entertainment system.

“Better than my Dad, he never came back,” I say it quietly and it hurts.

“Not because of you, if I had to guess why he never returned for you I’d guess it was his shame. He fought and lost you, it hurt him to lose in front of you and he probably felt like he failed,” He explains it and it makes sense again.

“I wanted to leave two years ago and you said he wasn’t there, that he was dead,” I state the words and he holds up a finger to stop me.

“I said they couldn’t find him and they couldn’t I showed you the file,” Mr. Delauter states and I counter.

“And it could be forged or falsified. You opened it and it wasn’t yours,” I state and he snaps on me again.

“I have never lied to you or kept anything from you when I was aware of the situation. I did not show you care and attention like I should have years ago and that I am at fault for. Adding to that I had and still have a huge blind spot to my three children and generally try to think the best of them no matter what, again this is something I know about myself. However unless you have proof, real proof that I have lied to you about anything don’t accuse me of it. I will take my blame for what I did or didn’t do but I won’t let anyone, even you tell me that I’m a liar because it’s convenient for you instead of the sad truth,” he is upset bordering mad, but it does sound true.

“Honestly I don’t know. I want things still, things I shouldn’t want not because I don’t deserve them but because you don’t. I am constantly telling myself to enjoy it now because sooner or later all of you will forget and when that happens I’m done and it’s all on me after that,” I explain and he’s listening as he sits in my computer chair.

“Is that why you keep planning to move out,” he asks and I nod,” Guy I have had many thoughts about you, aside from Abigail you are an academic power house in this family. I have no clue what you want to do with your life but I’ve been ready for you to ask me for something, anything.”

“Former status quo kept a lot of what I wanted silent,” I mutter and he nods.

“I looked at you in a similar manner of my daughter, Abby not Beth. You took everything now for years and never allowed yourself to become a bad person over it and even when we did things and you were sad to be on the outside you were still grateful. We took that vacation to Florida and my children whined about Disneyland while we were there and you just smiled a little and asked for sun block,” he reminds me of one of our ‘family’ vacations.

“That was one of the few times where people spoke to me at length,” I remember and he grimaces,” I couldn’t hide in my room like Beth would have wanted so everyone talked to me.”

“I always thought of you as shy, that you resented me after your mother sprung the new family situation on you,” Mr. D says letting some of his inner most out,” And then I find out how bad things really were for you in my home.”

“Yeah,” I don’t really have much to say on that.

“I almost disowned Beth,” He says it and I must look skeptical,” I weighed the pros and cons but the thought had crossed my mind that when she graduated to give her a small lump sum of money and kick her out.”

“That would have lasted all of a month,” I state and he nods,” I mean her being out there and you not taking her back. You love her.”

“Yes but what she did was evil and cruel, she still doesn’t realize how cruel it was from where I’m standing. Even Dr. Hill is trying to help show her the depth of what you have been put through by her actions,” he says it, he believes it but I don’t really feel it,” There are things that I don’t condone in this household and the abuse you suffered is one of them. Had I known…”

“Now we’re back to the ‘had I’, please don’t. I have some ‘had I’ over the course of my growing up that would make yours look insignificant so let’s not go there,” I do have more than a few looking back.

“You’re right, we can’t change what happened but all of us, even Beth, are here welcoming you back into the fold you should have never been kicked out of. And as for the car it’s yours,” Mr. D states and I am about to object,” I chose that car because you are fond of it. Let it remind you of your father, a man who I know loves you.”

Okay all pain and posturing aside it’s the dream car, the ‘my father and I’s’ dream car. There is some heartache in the memory and I figure on sitting and thinking about it in depth. I don’t know how everyone else is handling my brooding thoughts but I’m not in a caring mood for other opinions right now. I go from sitting in my big comfy chair, to sitting on my bed, to sitting in my computer chair and somehow I’m in the car. It’s nice… fuck its amazing. It is not what I always thought of when I was eight or so but then again I was eight and I was in the passenger seat, not the driver’s seat where I am now. I did change out of my ugly ass holiday pajamas into some regular clothes. Keys are in my hand, in the ignition, I can start the car. I can physically start the car but where what am I going to do with it. Mr. Delauter bought it for me in honor of my father, a man he never met and a man who abandoned me. I don’t like thinking of him that way but it’s pretty much true. There were a dozen ways I can think of that he could have contacted me over the years and he never did. Hell he could have just kidnapped me in the night and I’d have gotten over it. Wow I really hated my time with Mom. And I’m out of the garage and driving, I haven’t driven since I passed my tests so I take it slow and even though its winter in Texas there is no snow, it’s too warm. The car is amazing and it’s a manual, I prefer manual because it gives me control. Granted I almost grind my gearbox a couple times on the drive but after an hour I find myself somewhere I’ve only been once, Syd’s house. It’s nice and modest, a good little home with a plastic Santa in the front yard and some lights on the gutters. I exit the car and leave it in the driveway making my way to the front door and wait after knocking. I’m greeted by a tired looking man in sweatpants and a t shirt who I assume is Sydney’s father.

“Hello is Sydney home,” I ask and he gives me a surprised look.

“Yes and its Christmas, who are you,” her assumed father asks.

“I’m Guy, we’re friends from school,” I should say she’s my only friend but let’s not seem super loser right now.

I watch him call out to Syd in the house and I quietly wait. It takes maybe a minute for Syd, in a black tank top and shorts to make her appearance and she looks surprised to see me.

“Guy? What are you doing here,” Syd asks and I shrug.

“I needed to talk with my friend,” I state realizing I’m interrupting a holiday.

Her Dad leaves but I know I’m being monitored from the living room as Syd steps out and closes the door mostly behind her. We both are really awkward and nervous.

“I got a car,” I start and she steps around the corner of the front to see it,” I don’t know what I’m doing anymore.”

“We’re kinda in the middle of breakfast but come in,” Syd pulls me in from the not super cold Texas weather.

I am ‘welcomed’ into the home, it’s a little messy but like outside it’s quiet as her mother and father watch me enter their home. Introductions are made and I can see Syd gets her thin body type from her father as her mother is a bit heavier set and both parents look amazingly tired but her Mom has a smile on her face with a visitor in her home. I get asked the basic questions along with how things were with the homecoming dance we went to and failed to make a good date. I don’t get into the nasty details of my beating and avoid Sydney’s shotgun date night with a football goon, it’d just complicate things. I’m offered food and looking around notice things missing, there are some gifts and the food is small portions. I’ve lived like this, I’ve lived like this for years and I immediately put the plate down and tell Sydney that I have to go and that I’ll be right back. I am pretty sure I’m leaving them confused but I am being driven by something I can’t explain but it only takes me twenty minutes to find an open grocery store and grabbing a cart I make my way down every aisle grabbing things almost at random but I feel excited, more excited now than I have in a few years at this time. Three hundred dollars spent on food I grab gift cards for clothing stores and that electronic store with the yellow price tag on a blue background before loading up the trunk and fold up backseat of my new car and head back to Sydney’s house.

I’m unloading the first armload of food on the porch when Syd comes out the door with a grumpy look on her face.

“What the hell is wrong with you,” She asks hot, like desert sun in Africa hot.

“I needed to run to the store and pick up some things,” I answer her kind of quiet.

“Why” her Dad asks taking up behind his daughter.

“Because she’s my friend and you took me in on first look and wanted to give me food. I just don’t know, I wanted to do something nice,” it’s ridiculous, I feel ridiculous.

I begin to take things back to my car when Syd takes my arm and stops me. Her Dad follows me to the car and takes a couple bags and the two of us unload the car quietly as Syd’s Mom just smiles at the sight of everything being unloaded. I take my plate again as Syd sits down with me while her parents stock the shelves and I render unto her an explanation.

“I was really poor before Mom met Mr. Delauter, I didn’t have a Christmas that didn’t involve a stocking at a bar or a sad little tree with nothing under it because Mom
drank the gift money. I just felt something, a real something and I had to act,” I explain as her parents return to the room having heard my brief explanation.

“Well this is a lot but how can you afford this,” her Mom asks.

“His parents, well Mom and Step Dad are rich,” Syd explains and I nod weakly.

“Well we weren’t too bad off, just paid bills and were waiting on next payday to make up for the lack of presents and holiday food but this is most welcome,” the Mom says and I get to smile.

We eat pancakes with peanut butter, butter was more expensive but I bought some of it and syrup too so we can have whatever we want. I get to sit and talk with Syd and her parents, Hunter and Angie, and explain my problems. I dump out my whole fucking shoe box of pain and confusion for them and while I feel a little better now I am exposed and have no place to hide it. If they are horrified they are hiding their expression very well.

“I like this Delauter guy, he’s a workaholic honestly but so am I,” Hunter explains and I shrug,” Don’t blow me off, listen boy, he expected everyone to group up and bond because it’s what good people do and he’s a good person. Hell I didn’t know Sydney went to homecoming till three days after when she was crying about how horrible your night went.”

Yeah Syd is embarrassed a little but I keep listening to her father as he continues.

“You seem like a good kid, a little shy honestly but other than the sister from hell your family sounds pretty nice,” He states and I want to say something but he stops me,” I know I didn’t grow up with them, you did.”

“What Hunter is trying to say is they only deserve a chance if you want them,” Angie is a bit harder than her husband,” You need to figure out what you want in the whole ball of wax. Yes, they’re nice people and they give you pretty things but how do you feel when they do that stuff?”

“Okay I guess,” I answer and she shakes her head.

“It’s not the stuff then it’s the attention. You like that they are paying attention now,” Angie says and it feels true, mostly.

“I think so, I just don’t like that it took three years for my step family to realize how shitty things were in their perfect home,” I explain feeling a little upset but under control.

“That’s to be expected honestly. People don’t understand what they have until it’s marching out the door and never coming back,” Angie says and Hunter gives her a look.

“I didn’t think I’d be coming back,” he smirks and I think there is a story I don’t know.

“Families aren’t perfect, hell that Beth girl is far from it but end of the day they are going to be the ones to help pick you up. At least now you can see they don’t hate you,” Angie says and again more truth.

We talk, we eat, we laugh and they thank me for gifts. It’s a good holiday until I realize I have been gone for four hours after I was shopping and now it’s almost dinner time. I say goodbye and get a wave from the family before heading back towards my home. Almost six hours after leaving I realize a couple things, one I left without telling anyone anything and two I took my wallet but not my phone. Parking in the garage for the first time is nice but when I get into the house Mom and Mr. Delauter are not happy with me.

“Where the hell have you been,” Mom is mad, I’ve not seen this level of mad before.

“I was helping a friend, her Christmas was bad and her family let me sit down and talk with them. I am sorry I forgot my phone,” I get about that much out when Mom continues.

“I have been at my wits end to help you see that I love you and this family cares about you and you just run off on Christmas, ON FUCKING CHRISTMAS!,” did I mention Mom was pissed,” Now you run off to spend time with someone else’s family leaving us here worried sick.”

Mom is on the warpath as Mr. D just stands there with his arms folded, it’s like he’s waiting for his turn and I just need to speak and be heard.

“Mom… Mom… Mom…,” she just keeps ranting at me,” MOM!”

I think I broke the house, Mom was loud but I just trumped her in volume and something else. Not sure what it was in me but it’s gone in a second and now both Mr. D and Mom are standing still as I take a breath and take my Mom’s hands.

“Mom, I’m sorry. I couldn’t think and didn’t plan on being gone so long. I just went somewhere to think and ended up with my friend Sydney and her parents. We talked; they defended you and helped me a little. I spent a lot of money on them,” I get those words out and Mr. D looks like he wants to say something,” My money sir, not my allowance. They thanked me and sent me back home. I love you and I’m sorry I made you worry.”

“Honey I don’t know what you are thinking anymore. I worry everyday that you’ll decide to not come home and I’ll never see you again,” Mom says dropping the anger as we move to the TV room to talk with Mr. D behind us.

“Mom, realistically if I was going to leave I would have done it a long time ago. I can see that now, things are different now. I’m seeing you better than I was and all of you are seeing me finally,” I explain a little of what I was led to by Sydney’s family.

“Did the car handle okay,” Mr. Delauter asks after a pause in the conversation.

“It was great, I wish it was Dad but it’s the thought, the reason you got it that’s important. Also I can actually go places now so that’s a plus,” I answer and add a little to help relieve tension.

After talking and Christmas dinner which isn’t as nervous as some dinners have been over the past few months. Everyone talks, about me, each other and just relaxes. I’m not the focus of all the attention and when we finally finish and I head to my room Beth follows me in to talk some more.

“So things with this friend of yours, Sydney? You and her dating or,” she wants to ask and I chuckle.

“I think if we dated the world would divide by zero and negate all existence,” I joke and it’s intelligent humor, Beth doesn’t get it,” Oh crap search divide by zero meme on your phone.”

“Whatever, I am just glad you’re home and not running off on Mom,” Beth says and I have to stop her.

“It occurs to me that had our parents never met you would have never noticed me. I would have been some sad pathetic boy you and the other girls would have mocked openly,” I use bigger words to have impact on Bethany’s not so great vocabulary.

“Except you’re not sad or pathetic and as for open mockery we weren’t that bad most of the time,” Beth says it and I have to check my thoughts on her vocabulary.

“Yeah but that’s not how things worked out and now we’re stuck together, somewhat,” I clarify my previous statement turning it into an observation instead of leaving it a judgment of Beth’s character.

“Well I still don’t understand the no revenge policy you seem to live by but thank you. I did shitty things by you and in some cases to you and you could have outed me as a complete bitch to the whole school,” Beth thanks me but I have to explain myself, again.

“What good does it do either of us, you or me, to hurt you. I don’t need the truth to come out if it hurts you and you are important to Mom and the family,” I tell Beth and
she seems to get it but I guess I’m the more mature one,” Besides thanks to you I’ve already been with two cheerleaders.”

“What? Two? Who other than Lex,” she asks and I laugh shaking my head,” Oh fine. It’s your thing but just don’t make things weird for my friends when they come over. I am trying to help boost your image at school and they are gonna help.”

“I know, I’ve heard the master plan. It’s goofy to me but I guess we don’t fully understand each other which is alright,” I tell her and she smiles.

I’m alone on Christmas night and before bed get a text from Sydney thanking me for helping out her parents and welcoming me back whenever I want. It’s nice to be wanted and I feel wanted. Finally this is a good Christmas.

First thing about the car I don’t like, the paint job. Its sliver and not a great silver either, more of a ‘we tried to make steel color silver by adding some sparkles’. I talk to Mr. Delauter about getting new paint job before school starts and he agrees since he bought it from the car from a man and had it internally restored but nothing was done with the poor paint work. I take in a couple reviews for paint places focusing on quality and turnaround time. I put a few addresses in my phone and figure I can cover the paint myself; I need to spend my money on me and not ask for everything to come from Mr. Delauter even if he can pay for it and he does offer. I take my car out two days after Christmas to see if there is a turnaround time before school starts and unfortunately with the holidays both places, name brand places, give me poor times and I head off for lucky number three which is mostly across town away from home and I set up at a four car shop garage with three doors open and two cars up on racks. I note the full crew inside, four people one of them a lean Latina female with an angry look on her face as she stands under a car working on a something or other in the vehicle’s engine area. I head into the office and am joined by a short stocky older man with salt and pepper hair and a full mullet chop mustache beard combo, the name Dutch is on his dirty coveralls.

“Good afternoon sir, what can I help you with,” Dutch asks and I motion to my new car.

“The paint job is absolute crap and I need a better one,” I counter and he smiles.

“Well with the holidays it’ll be a bit but we can try to rush it out after New Years,” he offers and I nod.

“I just need it before school resumes, mid first week in beginning of second week in January is too late,” I state my when and he hands off a book full of colors and even some decal work that I can get if I want to pay a little extra.

I sit and browse as he returns to his workers in the garage and checks on a question the female mechanic has. I must be in the book for ten minutes when I hear Spanish and a voice that sends a chill up my spine. I slowly look over and see Hector with a few of the boys and their rides get out and begin talking with the female mechanic and Dutch. Everything seems really friendly; all sorts of buddy buddy with the two sides and begin to lose any desire to have the work done here. Dutch returns and I’ve already put the book down and am waiting for Hector and his boys to leave before departing myself.

“Have you found what you’re looking for,” Dutch asks with a smile.

“Actually I found something I was hoping to avoid. Do you associate with gangs,” I ask and Dutch gets a very confused look on his face.

“Gangs? No son those boys are a part of the neighborhood watch,” Dutch counters gesturing to Hector’s posse.

“Except I’ve been intimately associated with them, so much that if they are a part of your business then I have none here. My apologies for wasting your time,” I keep it civil and exit the front door and not the shop entrance I came in.

I keep my head down and get about half way to my car when I hear people talking loudly inside the garage and that’s when Hector spots me.

“Hey! What the fuck are you doing out here,” Hector calls and I can hear his boys coming for me,” turn back around and give Dutch your business, now.”

“No,” I’m scared shitless but I don’t have anywhere else to go as they cut me off from my car.

“Hector let the boy go,” Dutch calls out as his female worker heads over to interpose herself between Hector and I.

“See, this is what a gang does. They find people, outnumber and then threaten them to take their money and you’re a part of it,” I tell Dutch before turning back to Hector,” Here you want my money now?”

I reach back for my wallet and that’s when things turn crazy, I’m hit by I don’t know who and pinned to the ground with my right arm under a knee and my left partially under my back. I feel someone grab my face and a sharp piece of metal, probably a knife, up against my throat. I take a look and see the female mechanic giving me the pissed of Latina expression. Slowly I move my left hand and finish pulling my wallet out as Dutch is yelling for everyone to back off and get off me. I’m released and allowed to move again, I can taste blood in my mouth and sit up against my car as Dutch takes control of the situation.

“Pulling a fucking knife on a fucking kid Imelda, are you fucking kidding me,” he yells at the girl who is biting her tongue pissed off.

“He could have pulled a gun and shot Hector, I was reacting,” the girl, Imelda responds as I pull out my phone.

“I’m calling the police,” I state taking out my phone when one of Hector’s boys snatch it out of my hands,” Give me back my phone.”

“Give me the phone and get the fuck out of here, you too Imelda,” Dutch orders as one of the goons hands my phone to him.

I reach for my device but Dutch holds it in his hands and out of my reach as two cars of cholo assholes and a Mexican bitch on a motorbike ride away. Dutch waits a little bit before handing me my phone.

“Sorry about that, my mechanic is a little high strung,” he says in an apology.

“They assaulted me and you covered for them,” I state beginning to dial emergency services on my phone.

“Kid you need to stop doing that,” he tells me taking my phone again and shutting it off,” Calling the cops isn’t going to do you any good.”

“So they get to beat on me whenever they want, wherever they want and I’m just supposed to take it,” I counter and he holds his hands up in surrender.

“Call them but it’s your word against theirs and ours. I’m not going to tell the police that anything happened if they show up so maybe be a man about it and talk with them. They’re good boys,” Dutch informs me the harsh reality of the situation and I shake my head.

I turn around and get in my car pulling up my phone’s menu after turning it on while Dutch stands by my car watching me. My heart is pounding and I look up a few things on Facebook, namely an address and find it’s about five minutes away, goody goody. I’ve not yet opened up the engine on my car but I do now and I can tell which one is the house I’m looking for as the cars out front match the ones I see at school. I almost pull onto the lawn but just part it on the curb and exit my car slamming the door. My heart is pounding as I cross the yard and rip open the screen door before pounding my fist against the door. It doesn’t take long for an older Mexican woman to answer and I don’t waste time.

“Where is Carlos,” I bark and she begins speaking Spanish at me,” Speak fucking English and get Carlos out here now.”

More Spanish as I repeat myself and finally Marta comes out from wherever in her parent’s home and seeing me looks shocked.

“Guy what are you doing here,” Marta asks stepping between me and her mother.

“Get your piece of shit brother out here,” I bark at her and she steps back from me in a little shock.

“Carlos isn’t here,” Marta counters and I scoff,” He left with some of his boys a couple hours ago.”

“Fuck it, never mind, he wants to talk and work shit out?