Intended for Harm

by C. S. Lakin

  His father had to practically wrench his eyes from Joey. “Oh, okay, Son. Fine. I have some work to do in the shop.”

  The garage, he means. Like the stuff his dad tinkered with amounted to anything? Lately he’d been burying himself in the garage, bent under a hot lamp, carving some marmot or something, whatever that was. What on earth did he plan to do with these tacky sculptures he made? Simon doubted anyone would buy them; they weren’t all that great. But he got why his dad hid out in the garage—to get away from his kids, whom he didn’t give a crap for anyway. None except his gift from God—the holy, precious, chosen Joey. Who now had God giving him space dreams. Figured Joey probably dreamed that because he watched too many Star Trek reruns or something. Although he rarely saw Joey watch TV. The kid was always in his room, reading.

  Reading. At six, Joey could read almost anything. The kid was a whiz reader. And what did he want to read? Adventure books? Kid stories? No, the Bible. The freaking Bible. Like grownups could even understand that book. Simon shook his head, pushed past Rachel in the hallway, now all decked out in a different spotless outfit, orange juice–free. This was her fault—brainwashing Joey with all those grandiose thoughts of God, making him think he was something special.

  He slammed the door to his room behind him and flopped on his bed. As long as Joey was the perfect little angel, everyone else would come up short, being compared to his lofty standards. Even his dad looked at Joey like he was some holy messenger of God. The perfect child who could do no wrong, never got into trouble. Well, someone needed to pop that little bubble before it grew into a giant one. He chuckled. Yeah, that wouldn’t be so hard. The kid was only human, and Simon knew plenty well how to intimidate and infuse fear into other kids. Yeah, he’d put the fear of God into Joey—only it wouldn’t be Joey’s god his little brother would come to fear.

  Now all he had to do was come up with a plan and wait for the perfect opportunity. Which surely would present itself in time. Stars bowing to him! I’ll show him bowing, and it will look a lot like begging, pleading for mercy.

  With that encouraging thought, Simon stuffed his feet into his sneakers and headed out to the garage to get the mower, hearing the car start up and pull away from the curb—the rest of his gullible family heading off to church for another brainwashing session. At least his dad had the good sense to keep his distance; he’d hand him that. But, recalling the look of awe and admiration glazing over his dad’s eyes at the breakfast table, Simon wondered if avoiding church made any difference at all. His dad still worshipped the ground Joey walked upon.

  But he wouldn’t for long.

  Simon bounced on the edge of Levi’s bed. It was no good pretending he didn’t notice; Simon just wouldn’t go away.

  “Cut it out, already!”

  “Not until you quit sketching your dumb cartoons and get your butt in gear. We have places to go.”

  Levi scowled; Simon just never let up. Dinah peeked around the curtain at her brothers. “Hey, I’m reading. And you’re making too much noise.”

  Simon scrunched up his face at her. “Oh, go read in the bathroom or something. Isn’t that where girls like to spend all their time?”

  Levi set down his sketchbook. “Simon, why do you pick on Dinah? She’s never been mean to you. And I heard the way she stood up for you in the car to Mom, when you smashed into that truck in the parking lot.”

  Dinah raised her eyebrows at Simon, waited to hear his reply.

  Levi added. “She never sides against you, ever. Just give her a break, okay?” He smiled at Dinah, knowing she appreciated him defending her. She really was okay, for a girl. It sucked having to share a room with her, but she was quiet and kept to herself, didn’t mess with his stuff the way Simon always had, Simon going through his backpack and sketchbook and making fun of his drawings. He’d heard enough of Simon’s complaints about women—how they had no sense of loyalty, lied to you, pretended they loved you then forgot all about you, blah, blah, blah. But Dinah was different. Levi had to wonder what she thought, being the only girl in a house full of boys, playing mostly by herself, always going to her ballet classes. He was glad she had something she loved to do. And he secretly admired the way Dinah so easily stood up to Simon, unafraid to express her opinions. But then again, Simon never threatened her, or forced her to do stuff she didn’t want to do.

  Levi gritted his teeth. Like Simon was doing with him right now—making him go ride bikes around the neighborhood, looking for stuff to steal. All Simon talked about day and night was how he just had to have this guitar down at the music store. Levi had seen it—a hot electric Fender. Every time they rode around that part of the boulevard, Simon just had to stop at the store, go inside and play the stupid thing, Simon making it look like he was some hotshot rocker, letting his fingers fly all over the frets and shaking his head so his hair would sweep his face. Like his brother even knew how to play it! It was one thing to study a bunch of magazines that showed the chords and fingering, another thing to actually make your hands move over the strings that way, that fast. But Simon swore all that practice in his head was going to make him a great player, the greatest guitarist in the world—from the way Simon talked. Well, maybe once his brother got his dumb guitar, he’d spend all his time playing it, locked in his room, so he would finally leave Levi alone.

  That thought propelled him off his bed and out the bedroom, ready to follow Simon around the neighborhood the entire day—if that’s what it took.

  Levi walked into the kitchen. His Aunt Abby sat at the table, drinking coffee and eating a piece of toast.

  “What are you doing here?” he asked. “Where’s Mom?”

  “Don’t you remember—she had a doctor’s appointment with Joey?” Her look told him what it always did—that she thought he was stupid, and that really irked him. He wasn’t stupid. His mom had explained to her, the way she explained to everyone—he had problems with his memory sometimes. And with reading, getting the letters reversed. Aunt Abby knew this, that he met each week with the resource teacher at school who helped him keep up with the class. But it was like his aunt just said stuff like this to upset him.

  “Did you have breakfast yet?” she asked.

  Levi nodded. Simon wandered in; his eyes widened, Levi knowing they’d have a hard time ditching with her around. When she babysat, she kept a keen eye on them all, like a hawk watching a mouse in a field, ready to pounce. She just loved to complain to his mom about every little thing they did that wasn’t just right. And then all those chores she always made them do. You boys should be helping your mother around the house—not burdening her with more work. And she’d rattle off the list like some slave driver, snap at them if they didn’t work fast enough. Then, she’d be all smiles when Mom came home, proud, as if she’d done all the straightening up and folding laundry and washing the dishes all by herself.

  Levi looked to Simon, pleaded with his eyes. Simon smiled and Levi let out a breath. His brother had formulated a plan. While Simon got a bowl from the cupboard and poured cereal into it, Abby, right on schedule, began.

  “Levi, how about you strip your bed; Dinah’s too. Let’s get all the dirty laundry up so that we can make the beds and have all the towels clean for your mom when she comes home . . .”

  Levi nodded without listening, watched his brother eat, Simon staring in his bowl, concentrating on chewing.

  Simon swallowed, then spoke. “Hey, Aunt Abby. I was thinking of putting Mom’s tools in order. You know how she always just throws them in that bin? Well, I’m thinking of putting some hooks in the fence. I have them in the garage. Can I show you what I mean?”

  Abby raised her eyebrows, clearly suspicious. “What are you up to, Simon?”

  He threw his arms in the air. “What? I want to do something nice for a change and you give me a hard time about it.”

  She drank her coffee, glanced out the window, ignored Simon.

  Simon caught Levi’s eye, cocked his head toward the door. Levi’s st
omach clenched. It was clear Simon was motioning to Aunt Abby’s purse, sitting on the small table in the entryway.

  Levi’s eyes grew big; he shook his head no before Abby turned back to him.

  “If you’ve already eaten, Levi, then get to it.”

  “To what?”

  Abby suddenly grabbed his arm and yanked him up from his seat. “Stripping the beds. Don’t act like you don’t remember. Maybe your mother falls for your forgetful act, but I don’t. You may have everyone fooled, thinking you have a ‘mental problem,’ ”—she made little quote marks in the air with her fingers—“but I’m not fooled. I’m not as stupid as you think. And God sees your every move. He knows when you’re lying.”

  In that moment, all Levi’s fear and hesitation fled. He met Simon’s gaze, a look that agreed exactly with how he felt—that he’d like nothing better than to strike back at his aunt, piss her off. Levi looked at the purse, nodded at Simon, who smiled, making it look for all the world like he was smiling sweetly at Aunt Abby.

  “Come on, Abby,” Simon said, waving her toward the back door. “Let me show you what I’m thinking. I’ve got the hooks in the garage and I know a perfect spot on the fence. We can surprise her. By the time she gets back, I can have all her shovels and rakes and stuff hanging up. She’ll like that, don’t you think?”

  Go, go, Levi urged with his mind. It seemed like it took her forever to finish sipping her coffee. She put the last bit of toast in her mouth, waved at Levi like she was shooing a cat. “Get a move on, Levi.”

  He pushed his lips into a smile. “I’m going.”

  He got up and raced to his bedroom, started pulling the sheets off his bed—just in case she first planned to come in and check on him—and listened hard. When he heard their voices and the back door slam, he ran back into the living room, peeked outside. Simon was doing a good job, talking, gesturing with his hands, now getting her to follow him into the garage.

  This time his hands didn’t shake. He didn’t fumble while opening her purse and scrounging for her wallet. He let his anger and hurt pump him with courage and determination. He moved quickly and efficiently, taking out three twenties, pocketing them, stuffing the wallet back in the bottom of the purse, shutting the clasp closed and putting it back just the way he found it. Simon had taught him those things, to notice just how something looked before you touched it, so a person couldn’t tell you’d messed with their stuff.

  Instead of feeling that rush of guilt that always chased after him when he stole, he felt a surge of giddiness, empowerment. If his aunt wanted to make him work, then she’d have to pay him. What he took would pay him for all the hours she’d made him do her bidding over the last year or two. Actually, it wasn’t half enough for all the aggravation and belittling she’d dumped on him.

  He made it back to his room, gathered the sheets in his arms, and ran into his aunt on his way to the laundry room, head down, focused on his task. As he stuffed the sheets into the washer, Simon came up to him.

  “All set?” he whispered. Levi knew just what he meant. They stood there and listened. Abby was heading into the back bedrooms, probably on the warpath to think of more jobs she could have them do.

  Simon tipped his head toward the back door. “Let’s go!”

  Levi raced out after Simon, for once not caring what his aunt would say to their mom, how she’d rant and yell and throw a fit over their cutting out on her. So what? As Levi jumped on his bike and tore out of the garage, following Simon, who pumped madly on his pedals, tearing off down the street, he felt an exhilarating feeling of freedom, of power, the hot summer sun fueling him with energy. It filled him with an unspeakable joy. Maybe this was why Simon did the stuff he did, risked getting into so much trouble, talked back to their parents. Now Levi understood. When you let go of caring what people thought about you, it freed you. You didn’t have to buckle under them, trying to please them, hoping they’d dole out some affection or give you what you wanted. You could just shine them on and take what you wanted, stop depending on other people for your own happiness.

  Simon had told him this long ago, but it was like it had never clicked—not until now. Simon had been right all along. How many times had Simon tried to drill it into him, saying he was really looking out for his interests, that no one else would care about him or watch his back? All this time he thought Simon was bent on terrorizing him, but now he understood. His brother was just trying to get him to see the hard truth of life, and teaching him the only way to survive in this rotten world.

  Levi caught up to Simon, who straddled his bike at the corner.

  “Let me see what you swiped.”

  Levi pulled the bills out of his pocket, knowing his face gleamed. Simon noticed.

  “Nice job, little brother. You did good.” He pushed the bills into his front jeans pocket.

  Levi basked under Simon’s praise. “So what now—you gonna add this to your down payment on the guitar?”

  Simon studied Levi’s face. No doubt he saw a change in it, for Levi no longer felt fear or irritation toward Simon. In fact, he really did want his brother to get that guitar. He deserved it.

  “You enjoyed that—didn’t you?” he asked Levi. “Stealing from Auntie Abby.”

  “Yeah. Yeah, I really did.”

  “Well, she had it coming.” Simon patted Levi on the back a few times, let out a big laugh. “Oh, man. I can just picture her face right now, realizing we split. She’s gonna really give us hell to Rachel.”

  “So what?” Levi said, laughing along with him. “It was worth it.”

  Simon shook his head at Levi, like he couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “You know, you’re a pretty cool brother. I say it’s time to go buy you something sweet—like a new sketchbook. What do you say?”

  Levi took a step back. “Really? That’d be so great. I’ve almost filled the one I have. But they’re, like, twenty bucks.”

  “So what? We’re rich today. And when we’re done, we’ll treat ourselves to a big lunch—burgers, milkshakes, fries, the works.”

  Levi didn’t know what to say. He mumbled thanks, amazed at his brother’s generosity, feeling for once like he and Simon were on the same side instead of being enemies. A great weight lifted off his shoulders, and he felt it as he pedaled his bike after Simon, who was leading the way to the art store, passing the music shop where his precious guitar sat waiting for him, instead making a bee-line to buy his brother a gift.

  Levi laughed, felt like his world had just turned around full circle, like he had a whole new life spread out before him, one full of adventure and thrills instead of worry and fear. With the wind rushing past his ears, Levi hunkered down and pedaled with all his might, intoxicated by this newfound sense of freedom, thinking of all the cool things he could now have, with Simon’s help. No doubt he and Simon would get punished when they got home, but he would take his stripes with honor. He no longer felt like a frightened little ten-year-old boy. Today, he got a taste of what it felt like to be a man, all grown up. And now that he had tasted it, he knew he could never go back.

  With each pump of his legs, Levi’s childhood slipped farther behind him, until, when he glanced back over his shoulder, he couldn’t see it trailing him any longer.

  1986

  Danger Zone

  Revvin’ up your engine

  Listen to her howlin’ roar

  Metal under tension

  Beggin’ you to touch and go

  Highway to the Danger Zone

  Ride into the Danger Zone

  Headin’ into twilight

  Spreadin’ out her wings tonight

  She got you jumpin’ off the track

  And shovin’ into overdrive

  Highway to the Danger Zone

  I’ll take you right into the Danger Zone

  You’ll never say hello to you

  Until you get it on the red line overload

  You’ll never know what you can do

  Until you get it up as high
as you can go

  Out along the edges

  Always where I burn to be

  The further on the edge

  The hotter the intensity

  Highway to the Danger Zone

  Gonna take you right into the Danger Zone

  Highway to the Danger Zone

  —Kenny Loggins

  Reuben hurried to keep up with Simon and Levi. They were ducking into the tunnels like gophers on the run, no doubt trying to ditch him and Joey. He was surprised his parents let them take the raft over to the island, but Levi had begged, and after their dad made Reuben promise he’d keep an eye on Joey, he relented, sent them on their way while his parents took Dinah to the Bear Jamboree. Only once had his dad taken him to Disneyland, but he’d been too young to really recall much—other than his parents fighting. Dinah still a baby in the stroller, and Leah sneaking a bottle of liquor out of her bag, his dad trying to toss it in the trash. Levi crying and Simon throwing a fit, wanting to go on the rides while Reuben just remembering how hungry he’d been, and the lines for food so long, waiting in the hot sun, and thirsty, feeling like no one heard him—as usual. He’d never had much interest in coming back here.

  As Reuben exited one of the fake, concrete tunnels painted to look like caves in hills, holding Joey’s hand, he came upon Simon and Levi, sitting on a “rock” wall near the water, the big paddlewheel boat cruising by in the background, Dixieland-type music blaring from speakers.

  “You guys shouldn’t run so far ahead.”

  Simon threw Reuben one of his usual annoyed looks. “How come? Not like there’s anywhere to go, other than back on the raft. Come on, Levi. Let’s go jump on the rope bridge. See if we can scare some of those littler kids.”

  Simon turned to head down the dirt trail toward the water, but Joey called out to him.

  “Simon, I had another dream.”