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“It still smells the same. Man, I've missed the smell of the air out here.” He says with a big smile. It makes me happy to see my brother smiling. It feels good to finally be bringing him back home.
I park the truck and we head inside the old cabin style home that sits surrounded by thickly set tall trees that still look full and lush. Soon though, Fall will come to claim the green foliage and turn them golden and scarlet until they weep and fall to the ground to meet their cold death to winter.
I let Cole walk in first and then I follow, heading over to start a fire in the large stone fireplace. Although it’s not quite winter yet, the air up here in New Hampshire starts to get a little crisp at night.
Cole stands in the center of the living room looking around. “You kept everything the same,” he states.
“Well, almost everything. The couch I got a few years ago.”
I was sick of sitting on a dirty couch with worn cushions, cigarette burns everywhere and just bad memories attached to it. I have saved up so much damn money over the years doing nothing but working my ass off and one day I decided to finally spend my money on something for myself. I bought a nice dark brown leather couch that borders the living room in an L shape. The thing was comfortable as fuck and a lot of times I chose to sleep on it rather than my own bed.
“You kept Dad’s recliner though.” He notices.
I scratch the back of my neck while looking over at it. “Yea, I honestly don't know why it’s still here. I can toss it out back if you prefer.”
“No, no. It's fine. I remember it being pretty comfy back then when we’d play our little game. Let’s see if it still is.” Cole says as he plops down on the recliner. He leans back on it and the footrest pops out. He swings his arms behind his head and lets out a sigh. “Ah, yup, this is nice. Just as I remember. Except that fucker aint here to kick our ass for sitting in his favorite chair.”
Memories of the beatings we’d get from our dad for daring to sit on his prized recliner flood my mind, so vivid like it had happened just yesterday. It became a twisted game to Cole, a challenge to see who could sit on the chair the longest before getting caught and facing our father’s wrath. Cole would always win. I was too scared of the punishment and would chicken out real quick.
Our dad treated that chair like his fucking throne. A symbol of his authority and dominance over us within our home.
He was always sitting in it and ordering us to bring him beer or fetch him dinner. We would even find him with women on his lap fucking him in that damn recliner. His bare ass has been in there more times than I can count. It would have been more poetic if he died there too. But if Cole still wants to use the piece of crap, so be it.
Chapter 2
Callum
I leave Cole to himself. I want to give him his space to settle back in. I head to my room and it’s not long before I pass out on my bed for the night still in my clothes and boots.
I wake up late the next day. It’s almost noon. It was a good idea that I requested today off from work. Now I have the weekend ahead of me to spend more time with my big brother.
I change into fresh clothes and head out of my bedroom to find Cole. He’s not in the living room where I left him. Not in the kitchen. Not in the main bathroom or any of the other two rooms. I quickly glance outside and I notice my truck is gone.
What the fuck. You’ve got to be kidding me.
I begin to stomp my way outside pissed he just took off like that when I suddenly hear the sound of tires on rocks and dirt coming down the driveway. There the fucker is.
“What the fuck man. You just take off and not say anything? You don't even have a valid license,” I scold.
“Relax Cal. I just went into town quickly to grab some booze and cigarettes. It's been fifteen years since I had a taste of beer, man.”
“Well, you still could have told me. I could have driven you.”
“Come on, have a beer with your big bro. Oh and here’s your wallet back,” Cole says as he tosses me my wallet then pushes me towards the house. I just shake my head.
We sit at the kitchen table drinking beers and going over the last fifteen years and what I've been up to.
“I can talk to John and probably get you a job working construction with me. It's hard work and most days it kicks my ass, but it's really good money. I've saved up a lot over the years. Just work, eat, and sleep.”
“Yea. Sure. That sounds good. But you gotta do more than work, eat and sleep. Where’s the fun man? The ladies? You trying to tell me you haven’t fucked around with anyone all these past years? One of us better have been getting some pussy,” he laughs and takes another swig of his beer.
“There’s been a couple but nothing serious. They always start wanting more than I can give, ya know? I ain't looking to marry and have kids and all that white picket fence shit. That ain’t for me. They’ve just been something to pass the time with and feel good here and there. I can't commit. I can't give them what they want. I’m just part of the fucked-up Decker men. They’re better off anyway.”
“Speak for yourself boy, I've got all my screws tight and I'm a rehabilitated man!” he exclaims while sitting up all proper. We stare at each other for a moment before we both begin laughing at that ridiculous notion. We know damn well our dad fucked our heads up real good. We’re fucked for life. No use bringing in a female to our mess. They should be thanking me when I end things instead of crying about breaking their heart.
A couple hours later I stand to go take a piss and that's when it all hits me. I nearly fall on my ass and Cole just starts laughing and giving me shit about it. I hardly drink these days and sitting here catching up with my brother, I simply lost track of time and how many beers I was going through along with the whiskey shots Cole kept pouring.
“Ah, fuck. I feel like shit. I'm taking a piss and going to bed. You all set for the night?” I ask before stumbling my way to my bedroom where I have my own adjoining bathroom.
