Redeeming the Stepbrother

by Andrew Grey

  “Where do you think Jeremy went?” Dieter asked, placing his hand on my back.

  All I did was stare at the mess on my floor. “I don’t know, and maybe it’s best if I stay away from him until he calms down and sobers up.”

  “Florian,” Ella said from the doorway. She had a broom, dustpan, and trash can. Without being asked, she started picking up the larger pieces of porcelain and placed them into the trash can for me. “He took your medal,” she said without pausing. She used the broom to gather the smaller pieces and swept them into the pan.

  I turned to Dieter, sighing softly and trying not to cry as part of my past ended up in the bin.

  “Florian, honey, he was angry at you,” he said as he looked around the room. “There is small stuff everywhere, but he took your medal and broke the pieces of porcelain you painted.”

  “Do you think there’s meaning in that?” I had no idea. All I knew was that Jeremy’s cheese had slipped off his cracker and he was angry as hell, out there somewhere.

  “I think he was angry with you but channeling it at your work. The pieces you did, the medal—it all has to do with your art.” Dieter blinked. “His job has been yanked away, and you’re a huge success with yours, so my guess is that he’s taking aim at that.”

  I thought for a few seconds and my blood ran cold. “The studio,” I said. “It’s where I work and separate from the industrial portion of the works.” My heartbeat sped up. “Ella, stay here with Mom and call me if Jeremy comes back.” I took a step toward the hall. “Lock all the doors and don’t let Jeremy in. Call the police of you have to, but you and Mom need to be safe.” I reached the stairs and bounded down them, heading outside. Dieter was right behind me, and he jumped into the car. I barely had my door closed when Dieter peeled out, racing toward the edge of town.

  Smoke rose into the darkening sky as he got closer. An explosion wracked the night, and I knew in my heart that the place I’d worked at for the last six years was no more. As we approached, I saw what had been the studio was a ball of flame and rubble, the walls jagged, roof gone, flames lighting the night.

  “Dante,” Dieter called as we made our way over to where they stood behind the cordon the fire department had already set up. Smoke and flashes of flame rose from the remains of the studio.

  “We were notified of a fire, and then this….” Dante motioned toward the remains. I had never in my life seen Dante Bartholomew as shaken as he was in that moment. “Who would do this?”

  “Jeremy,” I answered softly. “They fired him today, and he thinks it’s my fault. He wants to hurt me as much as he thinks I hurt him.” I turned as another explosion rocked the night. “What can that be? We don’t keep things that explode in there.”

  No one answered. Everyone just stared as my place of work and comfort, the place where I always knew I belonged and fit in, went up in a ball of flame.

  “Florian,” Hattie cried as she hurried over and hugged me tightly. “What are we going to do?” she cried on my shoulder. These jobs were hard to come by. There were very few high-end porcelain studios in the country that produced work worthy of being collected by artistic connoisseurs, and with changing tastes, those studios were an endangered species.

  “We’ll rebuild,” Dante said from nearby, and Hattie gasped. I don’t think she’d realized he was right there. “Everything is insured, and we’ll rebuild the studio. The building and equipment can be replaced, but our talent and artists can’t.” Dante sounded as though he’d already made his decision, but it was going to be months before anything could be rebuilt. He turned to both Hattie and me. “We’ll look at all options in order to bring back our studio.”

  I thought that a remarkable step, considering the building was still burning.

  “What about our patterns and guides?” She gasped, “The molds.”

  Dante approached her. “All the patterns are on computer systems that are backed up off-site, and copies of all the molds are in the plant. We have everything, and once we make up the special porcelain we use, we can cast blanks at the works and bring them to wherever we set up the new studio and equipment.”

  I knew it wasn’t going to be that simple, but the details weren’t important right now.

  “Was there anyone in there when the fire started?” one of the firefighters asked as he raced up. “Are all the workers accounted for?”

  “Yes,” Richard said as he joined our group, doing our best to stay out of the way. “I’ve called everyone, and all our employees are accounted for. As far as I know, the studio had been locked up for the night.”

  “What about Jeremy?”

  “Who?” Richard asked.

  “My brother.” I looked down at my feet, and Dieter cradled me in his arms.

  “Florian thinks his brother might have started the fire. We’re only speculating at this point as to why, but he was fired today and he seems to blame Florian.”

  I was so grateful for Dieter explaining what I feared deep in my bones.

  “We won’t know if there was anyone inside until we can get the fire out and check for any remains.” The fireman was being honest, and I appreciated that, but how was I going to explain that to my mother? She was already worried sick about Jeremy and what he’d done. Telling her he was an arsonist was not going to be easy without some facts. And I had none, just speculation.

  My phone vibrated in my pocket, and I pulled it out and answered the call from the house. “Ella?”

  “Jeremy is here now, and he’s pounding on the door to be let in.” Her voice was cold with fear.

  “Call the police. I’m on my way.” I turned to Dieter, who was already leading the way back to where we’d parked the car. This whole night was turning into one emergency after another. “I’ll be there just as soon as I can. Now hang up with me, dial 911, and stay on the line with them. They won’t leave you alone until help arrives.” I’d heard that on television and hoped it was true.

  Mom yelled in the background as Ella disconnected. I hoped she did as I told her, but I was more and more frightened by the second.

  “I’m sorry about all this.” It was too much damned drama, and Dieter certainly hadn’t signed up for it. Still, he drove me home as fast as he dared. Jeremy stood in the middle of the front yard, and as soon as I opened my door, his yelling became clear.

  “Stop it, Jeremy,” I called back. “The police are on their way.”

  He turned toward me, eyes wide, pupils dilated. He looked crazed, and I wondered if he was on something. I had never seen him like this in my entire life, and it frightened me. No wonder Ella had been freaked.

  “You did this to me! Everything was just fine, and then you got all these hoity-toity friends and I’m out of a job and you’re getting fucking medals… for painting birds.” He flapped his hands while raising the pitch of his voice, clearly making fun of what I did. “Who would have thought that my loser brother would be a fucking success, and me…?” Jeremy stood still, his entire body shaking.

  “Did you burn down the studio?” I asked.

  “You’re fucking right I did! Now you’re out of a fucking job too… no better than me.” He stumbled closer, and I was afraid he was going to fall on his face. Now that Jeremy had confessed, I found it hard to feel sorry for him.

  Sirens sounded, quickly getting louder, and Jeremy turned and raced around the side of the house to the backyard. The police pulled in, and I explained what was happening as quickly as I could, and that Jeremy had just confessed to starting the fire. The officers circled around the house, and after a few seconds, Jeremy emerged, running full tilt from between two houses, and flew across the street, with the police right behind him.

  “Stop, now!” one of the officers called. Jeremy ran faster, dodging between homes.

  I grabbed Dieter’s hand and pulled him toward the house. Ella opened the door, and we hurried inside, then closed and locked it behind us. There was nothing we could do for Jeremy. He’d made his bed, and it was up to the pol
ice now.

  Mom hurried to the door, and I had to keep her from rushing outside. “I have to help him!”

  “No. You need to stay here.” I hoped for her sake that she didn’t try to do anything foolish. Mom was given to impulsive decisions and actions, and it could be difficult sometimes to get her to back down. “The police are out there and they’ll get Jeremy.” I got her to sit down, and Ella settled as well, her leg bouncing with excess energy and worry.

  “I’m going to make some tea,” Dieter offered, heading to the kitchen. I heard him opening cupboards and wasn’t even sure if there was any tea in the house, but he soon returned with some mugs with tea bags hanging over the lips. He’d just set them on the coffee table when a knock made us all jump slightly.

  “Drink your tea and do your best to stay calm,” I told Mom. I checked the door before opening it to the police officer. I motioned for him to come inside and locked the door once again. “Did you find him?”

  “No. He raced across the street and through other yards. There are plenty of places for him to hide. We’ve put out a call for him, so all departments on the shore will be looking for him as well.” She introduced herself as Officer Dutry and took out a pad.

  “Thank you. Mom, do you have a set of keys to Jeremy’s car?” I asked, and she pointed absently to the bowl by the door. I fished through it, found what I was looking for, and handed the extra set of keys to Officer Dutry. “You’ll need these to secure his car, I’m sure.”

  She took them with a nod. “Why did you call us?”

  I nodded to Ella, and she explained how agitated Jeremy was.

  “I told her to call you. He was pounding on the door to get in the house, and I believe he set fire to the porcelain studio.”

  “I see.” Officer Dutry jotted notes.

  “He confessed to doing it when I asked him about it,” I told her. “Dieter von Hollenbach is a witness. He heard his confession as well.”

  Mom burst into tears, and I was torn between trying to comfort her and answering the officer’s questions. Dieter sat next to Mom and took her hand. I grew speechless, watching him being so caring and gentle with her. My mother could be a pain in the ass, but she was devastated, and Dieter was there for her when I couldn’t be. Part of me wanted to burst into tears myself just because of his kindness.

  “How could he do this?” She rocked back and forth, and I went and sat on the other side of her, taking her hand to try to give what comfort I could.

  “But….” She sniffed. “What will happen to him?” She lifted her gaze to Officer Dutry.

  “I don’t know, ma’am. That really isn’t up to us. It’s our job to bring him in without anyone getting hurt,” she explained. “Do you know where Jeremy might go on foot?”

  “He has a friend, Peter Mullery,” I said. “He lives about a mile away on Roosevelt. They’ve been friends since they were kids. In Jeremy’s agitated and maybe crazed state, he might go over there.” If he did, I hope Peter had the sense to talk him down and call the damned police. But Peter wasn’t known for making clear, rational decisions.

  “Do you think Peter will shelter him?” Officer Dutry asked.

  I sighed. “I wish I knew. But if I may suggest it, I’d get a car over there as soon as possible.” It was probably what they were going to do anyway.

  She excused herself and went into the kitchen. Mom seemed reasonably calm now, sipping from her mug of tea. I left her and motioned Dieter to the other side of the room.

  “You don’t need to stay,” I whispered.

  Dieter shook his head. “I’m not leaving you when things are this stirred up.”

  He put an arm around my waist and pulled me into a hug. I closed my eyes and at first tried to hold myself together. Dieter didn’t let go, and I eventually held him back, shaking in his arms as the weight of the night settled around me. I could feel the responsibility for my family surrounding me like a lead weight. Everything rested on my shoulders now. Mom, Ella, all of it.

  “You can do whatever you need to. You’re strong and caring—a man of steel.” He pulled back to kiss me on the forehead. “I’ll be here as long as you need me.”

  “There isn’t much more we can do tonight,” I said. “Now we just wait.”

  I checked the clock as Officer Dutry returned. If she thought anything unusual about the two of us holding each other, she said nothing. “We have someone stopping by Mr. Mullery’s home.”

  “Thank you.” I backed away from Dieter, arms wrapped around myself. “Mom, you might as well try to get some rest.”

  Ella helped her up to her room, leaving the three of us alone.

  “I’m no expert, but I think Jeremy may have taken something. He seemed out of control. I don’t know what it would be. You’re welcome to look in his room. It’s at the top of the stairs, first door on the left.” Whatever might help at this point.

  Ella passed Officer Dutry on the stairs, and I told her where she was going. I realized someone should be with her to answer questions and followed her up the stairs.

  Mom’s door was closed, which I was grateful for, and Officer Dutry stood in the doorway of Jeremy’s disaster of a room. The sheets were more on the floor than the bed. The desk area had papers and things piled high on top of each other as if to prove Seussian towers really could exist.

  “Is this normal?” she asked as I approached.

  I shrugged. “The door is closed most of the time, and I generally leave him alone if I can help it. As far as the mess, I’m afraid Jeremy’s idea of organization is to try to remember where he dropped something the last time he used it.” I inhaled and wrinkled my nose. “God.” I went into the bathroom and returned with two clothes baskets. “I can gather the dirty clothes and get them out of here.” That might abate the smell. “Maybe then we can see the floor.” I carefully picked up articles of clothing one at a time, shaking each of them to see if anything fell out.

  Officer Dutry pulled on gloves, and I let her go through the pockets before tossing the clothes in the basket. It didn’t take too long before the offending odor of weeks of dirty clothes was out of the room, and I carried everything to the laundry and dumped some of the stuff into the washer. When I returned, Officer Dutry was going through the papers on the desk. She didn’t seem to find anything and started on the closet. She looked through it and then under the bed, going through the bedding, which she put aside.

  “Florian,” Dieter said as he came up the stairs.

  “How is Ella?” I asked.

  “Really tired. I got her settled on the sofa under a blanket. She doesn’t want to go to bed, but she’s sleepy. I hope she can rest.” He smiled and leaned his head toward my room. I nodded, and we went down the hall. “Your sister is pretty interesting. She’s watching ballet and explained all the parts and steps.”

  “She is the reason you have toes left after dancing with me at the masquerade. Remember?” The more I got to see the real Ella, the more amazing I found her. School things were tough as hell for her, but dance, gracefulness, and movement all came naturally and she understood them.

  “I know.” Dieter smirked.

  “What’s going through that head of yours?” I asked, and Dieter shook his head.

  “Later,” Dieter said as Officer Dutry came out of the room and closed the door.

  “Please stay out of here and keep this closed. I’m going to have a team come over to go through it.” She approached where we stood, and I got the feeling she had something she wanted to tell us. I didn’t want Mom to hear what it was, so I motioned us back down the stairs.

  “What can you tell us?”

  Officer Dutry didn’t seem pleased at all. She stared daggers at her phone and then turned to Dieter and me. “They haven’t been able to find your brother. He gave us the slip. We thought he was still in the area, but there has been no sign of him. We’ve been to Peter’s home, but he hasn’t been there. He’s on foot as far as we know, but it’s clear he knows this area very well.”<
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  “We’ve lived here for a while so he’s had plenty of time to explore.” I had an idea and led the officer to the living room. “Ella, they can’t find Jeremy. He’s on foot. Is there any place you can think of where he might hide for a few hours?” She knew the neighborhood better than any of us. She’d lived here the longest and had played at all the neighbors’ houses at one point or another.

  “The Kings down the street have a playhouse in their backyard. We used to make believe it was a castle,” Ella answered, slowly sitting up. She scratched her cheek. “Down at the end of the street, there’s the tube under the road. When it’s been dry, there’s no water in it.”

  “There hasn’t been a huge amount of rain, and none in days. It could be dry and would be a great place to hide.” I hoped they found him soon, both for Mom’s and Ella’s sake, as well as for Jeremy’s. The longer he decided to try to run or hide, the greater the chance someone would shoot when he was located. I thought we’d all feel better once Jeremy was in custody.

  Officer Dutry called in the locations. “Anything else you can think of?”

  “It’s dark. So he could try to hide in the fields or grasslands. There are plenty of them, and they aren’t going to be too marshy. If he’s found a place to hunker down, it isn’t likely you’ll find him at night.” They’d probably thought of that, but I offered it anyway.

  This whole situation had me on edge. Jeremy and I hadn’t gotten along in quite a while, but I never thought of him as a criminal. I guessed my image of him needed to change. He’d actually come after me in a way.

  I sat in a chair, unable to think much anymore.

  Officer Dutry opened the door to check outside and returned, getting out a card from her pocket. “Here is our direct number. Call this right away if he contacts you either in person or by phone. Keep all the doors and windows locked from the inside.”