“No way!”
“Yep.”
“Share it with me! Come on, I’ll clean your room for a week.”
“A month.”
“A month!”
“I didn’t stutter.” Luke watched John’s forehead wrinkle with the effort of thought. He chuckled, knowing his brother could not resist the thought of a candy bar. Their father ate them in front of them often enough. Luke frowned at the memory.
“Oh, all right.”
“Come on, then.”
Luke kicked rocks on the worn path between the two mobile homes and opened the front door to his parent’s mobile home. He stuck his head in to gauge the atmosphere before going all the way in.
His mother was cooking in the kitchen and his father was watching T.V. He turned and put his finger to his lips before signaling his brother to join him inside.
They waited until the show was interrupted by a commercial break. “Dad?” Luke said, standing slightly behind the right side of his father’s chair. It was never a good idea to block the T.V. when his father was home.
“What?”
“Look dad, I solved it.”
“What?”
Luke spotted the irritation rising in his father’s voice. Even his mother’s movements in the kitchen stilled.
“I solved the Rubik’s Cube.” Luke jumped as the cube was snatched from his hand.
He watched his father turn it over in his big, calloused hands and then toss it over his shoulder. Luke scrambled to catch it.
“So?” his father answered.
“You promised if I solved it, you’d give me a candy bar.”
“No, I didn’t.”
“Yes, you did.”
No, I didn’t.”
Luke glanced back as John scooted into the kitchen. “But dad… .”
His father was up from his chair and towering over him. In one swift motion, he delivered a backhanded blow across his face that spun him around, and knocked him to the floor.
He lay dazed, oblivious to the sound of his father’s footsteps, the door opening, and then a few seconds of silence before the faint pop of plastic as his Rubik's cube hit the ground.
The floor underneath Luke flexed up and down with each step as his father returned to his chair. His mother's knee landed with a thud beside him. Her soft hands tugged until he was in a sitting position. Covering the side of his face with his arm, he tried to stop himself from bawling.
“Garry! What did you do that for?”
“Get me some tea.”
“Garry, you hurt him!”
The chair creaked as his father sat down. “Listen, you stupid, fat cow. Get me a drink, now!”
Luke listened to his brother, John, run for the door while making a soft, mewling sound. What his mother perceived in his father’s face made her decide to half-push, half-drag him out the front door and whisper, “I’ll bring you some ice in a little bit.”
He stumbled down the path toward the other mobile home and sat down hard on the wooden step leading to the door. John brought him what pieces he had found of the Rubik’s Cube. Holding them in his hands, it occurred to Luke he now knew two things his father didn’t know.
***
The 40 acres they lived on was a refuge. Unlike the rest of the family, Luke and John knew the property inside and out. No one found them when they wanted to stay hidden. Canyon City was green, since the town was divided by the Royal Gorge River, but out on the County Road, miles from town, it was desert. Half a dozen different cactus, small mesquite trees, and bushes dotted the valleys. Rocky, steep hills with bone breaking drops dominated the landscape.
Spring was the time to plant Red Clover to feed the deer. The hike to the valley took over an hour on foot. Along the way, Luke’s father trudged in front taking pot shots at rabbits with his .22 rifle. John and Luke carried the seed bags.
“Ahhh!” John cried as he tumbled over on his side along with the seed bag. Luke hid his smile. He’d done it just as they planned.
“So help me boy,” his father shouted back, “that bag better not be ripped.”
Luke dropped to his knee and patted John on the arm. “I think he twisted his ankle, Dad.”
His father swore then yelled, “Get home then!”
Luke whispered, “Be sure to limp.” He helped John up and watched him limp back down the trail. “Dad, I can leave the bag here and come back for it later.”
“Yea, I guess. Come on, we need to hurry if we’re going to get done before dark.”
So far, so good, thought Luke. Timing would be everything. He was glad to be walking behind. This way his father wouldn't notice the nervousness he knew was written all over his face. He scanned the path ahead. They were close. Right where the curve jutted out over the side of a steep drop with nothing but rocks to break a fall. Luke stopped and held his breath as his father took the turn… and passed right over the bobby trap.
“Come on!” he yelled over his shoulder.
Luke wanted to drop the bag, run and keep running until he was far enough away.
“Oh, for fuck’s sake, Luke, come on! We’re almost there.”
Luke made his way up the path. He paused in front of the booby trap, debating whether to jump on it. What did I do wrong?
The rest of the afternoon was a blur of tossing seed and watching his father shoot at rabbits. Luke froze when his father aimed the gun at him. “Go back down and get the other bag. And hurry up, so we can get this done.” Luke gulped and took off for the trail across the clearing.
He kicked a stone at the part of the ledge that was supposed to collapse as he passed by, Stupid thing. The second bag lay right where they’d left it. With a grunt, he picked it up and turned around to head back up the path. Stones rattling down the trail brought him up short. His father stood there with the .22 rifle aimed at him again.
“I said hurry up.”
Luke’s body went cold. He gripped the bag and took two small steps back. His father's expression hardened as he took two steps forward, the gun still aimed directly at him.
“Don’t make me tell you again.”
Luke’s body hummed, preparing to drop the bag and flee down the trail. He would not be able to outrun a bullet and he could not fight, but those were his only choices. Tensing, he took two steps back and watched his father echo two steps forward. The gun lifted, aimed…
Luke threw the bag up hoping it would provide cover as he spun around. There was a thunderous crash behind him, followed by his right leg collapsing. His sight went white with the pain and he toppled to his side. Seconds ticked by before he realized rocks still crashed in the distance. He peered down at the blood seeping through a hole in his thigh. Afraid to touch his leg, for fear of another blinding wave of pain, his hands hovered over the wound.
He glanced up, expecting his father to bear down on him and finish the job. The trail was empty. Luke wiped the tears and sweat from his eyes and scanned the area. A few rocks dropped from the bend in the trail. With a blink, he realized his booby trap had worked after all.
***
After Gary senior's death, his mom, found a job working at a Dollar Store in Canyon City. His sister and her boyfriend ran off and had two beautiful little girls. Garry junior, passed the exam to be a corrections officer and moved to Colorado Springs. John, was placed in Special Education, but he graduated High School with his class. Luke did not. He dropped out at sixteen, entered Job Corps in Reno, earned his GED and moved to Las Vegas to fabricate marble for the hotels. The memory of how he saved his family keeps him awake most nights.
If you enjoyed this story, please consider purchasing the Twelve Worlds Anthology for Charity on Amazon. All profits go to Reading is Fundamental. For $2.99 you will get 80k+ words by 14 authors and support literacy! Thank you!!
http://amzn.to/gKxLuC
To learn more about the project - go to Twelve Worlds at: https://sites.google.com/site/twelveworlds/home
Click to edit this text.
F
rom the same author on Feedbooks
Devil of a Ghost Tour (2010) Lynn and Lee Hoyt decide a local ghost tour would be a fun date night. In an abandoned hotel on the tour, a demon and his minions have been waiting for just the right couple to come along. Can the ghost hunters, Hector and Marcos, save them before it's too late?
* * *
Key to a Haunting (2011) Hector and Marcos are called in to investigate a haunted downtown building. A tragic event is the key to solving the haunting, but will they learn the truth in time?
* * *
Playing with Fire (2011) Welcome to Playing with Fire, anthology of horror, volume I.
Scare easily? Are you often frightened out of your sleep? Does the mere mention of ghosts prickle your skin?
These seven author's imaginations are fired up by the scariness of the unknown.
Find a comfy spot, sit back and enjoy nine tales to tickle your taste for terror.
www.feedbooks.com
Food for the mind
Cube Page 2
