John sat in his car, waiting for the light to change. The whir of the wiper blades drowned out the soft patter of raindrops splashing onto his windshield, streaking water across the glass in thin, uneven lines. The streetlights reflected off the wet pavement, casting long, distorted shadows of the cars lined up ahead. His fingers impatiently tapped against the steering wheel, the leather-wrapped surface cool and worn beneath his touch. He let out a sigh as the traffic light switched to green, the red hue dissolving into a bright glow. Putting his foot on the gas, he proceeded through the intersection, the tires sending a faint ripple of water spraying up from the puddles on the asphalt.
With one hand on the wheel, he fumbled through the contents of his passenger seat for his boarding slip, shoving aside an old fast-food bag and a crumpled receipt. For the life of him, he could not remember what gate his flight was at. Man, he really needed to learn to remember things. He was more the fly-by-the-seat-of-your-pants type, and schedules had always felt like a cage. That was more his brother Jason's thing. But he couldn't afford to miss this plane. His sister would kill him. She only needed to lose one brother at a time. A wave of worry crossed his mind as the headline from the newspaper that morning scrolled through his head.
"Divine Family Scrambles in Search of Youngest Son."
God, he hated the media. The speed at which those vultures captured whatever bits of other people's lives they could always baffled him. With smartphones being so common, anyone could turn into a shutterbug. When he lived back home, it wasn't unusual to find them lurking in bushes or crowding around restaurants the family frequented. There were very few places he could go that they wouldn't find him—most of which required a 4-Wheeler to reach. Where he lived now was pretty far away from anyone who would care about some rag magazine "scoop," so he would have to readjust while he was back home. Despite the eagerness he felt to find his brother and see the few members of his family he actually liked, he couldn't wait for this trip to be over.
Three days had passed since Jason had talked to anyone. Their sister Jayne had apparently gone down to his house to check on him one night when he missed game night with the her and the boys, and discovered the front door open, with no sign of her brother anywhere… no sign of his butler either. Usually being one to overreact, she immediately called John. As a mother of twins, she didn't have the luxury of tracking down their brother herself. John did. At first, he wasn't surprised that Jason wasn't home. It was when she mentioned the door was ajar that John got concerned. Jason kept his house in a very specific order. He never would have left the door open. John smiled as he recalled a time he incited Jason's organizational wrath. He had gone into The Library (Jason's retreat) and rearranged a bunch of shelves. He thought Jason's head was going to explode.
As annoying as his meticulous nature could be, that kid sure had a brain. He had enough books at home to give the local library a run for its money. He was constantly learning. From a very young age, you knew just by looking at him, he was working on something. Little things at first, like desktop catapults to launch cheese puffs. As he got older, he started making more complex creations. Currently, the company held 120 patents for outdoor recreational equipment. All because of Jason. They were all just toys to him. John had to give him credit—somehow, despite their family's notoriety, Jason had managed to stay out of the media. Unlike John, who had made the headlines more times than he cared to count, Jason had always been a ghost, slipping under the radar. That took skill. John could respect that.
While Jason was infamous in town for his reclusive yet kind nature, John was the Black Sheep of the family. He got in fights at school, stole his mom's credit cards, and on numerous occasions took off for hours on end during the school week. At least that is how his mom phrased it. It didn't matter if he got in fights defending his siblings against bullies or overly aggressive boyfriends. It didn't matter if he stole the cards to pay the bills, and it didn't matter if he took off in the car because he was working 2 jobs at 16 to make sure there was extra money in the house. With a narcissistic, alcoholic, master manipulator for a mother, they needed a lot of extra money. She would throw extravagant parties and purchase lavish clothing that she never wore just so she could keep up the facade that the family wasn't hurting. It didn't mean that they didn't feel the blow of father's illness.
John groaned in dismay as the airport came into view, its bright fluorescent lights cutting through the misty evening air. Family reunions where he was concerned never ended quietly. There was always some kind of showdown between him and his mother. He prayed nobody would make a scene when he showed up. Especially Mom. Lord help her if she did. Ever since Dad died, she made sure to let him know just how much she did not approve of his wheeling and dealing. Little did she know, it was precisely that "wheeling and dealing" that had kept the family afloat. If it hadn't been for him, they all would be bankrupt. His siblings knew about what he had done for them. They always did. It made no difference. In Mother's eyes, they were angels and he was nothing.
And yet, despite all that, he knew she would be there, waiting. He could already picture her tight-lipped frown, the way she would barely look at him before demanding answers or throwing some passive-aggressive remark his way. The way she could make him feel like an intruder in his own home. Every trip back was the same. A careful dance of avoidance and inevitability, each interaction another cut reopened.
Then there was the paparazzi. Every time he came home, somehow they found him and spun some story about what they perceived to be his latest indiscretion. Without fail, he always received an irate phone call from his mother, screeching about how he was ruining the family's reputation. He had grown tired of her overbearing hand constantly being entwined in his life. He could handle the media getting bent out of shape. He could tolerate the keyboard activists deciding from one article whether or not to boycott Divine Inc. He could not however, handle his mother calling and spewing her contempt for him while she lived in a house he owned, rode in cars he paid for, and her constant manipulation of his siblings.
He clicked on his turn signal and drove into the airport parking lot. John picked up the ticket from the dashboard and glanced over it looking for a gate number. Sylvia, his assistant, was kind enough to make all the necessary preparations. She would have gotten him a driver too, but John insisted he take himself. He had to remember to get her a coffee cup on his way back. That woman could run her own Coffee House. Jayne swore she was the best thing that ever happened to John and had on multiple occasions tried to hook them up. Sylvia was a beautiful woman. Her wife thought so too.
He clicked on his turn signal and drove into the airport parking lot. John picked up the ticket from the dashboard and glanced over it looking for a gate number. Sylvia, his assistant, was kind enough to make all the necessary preparations. She would have gotten him a driver too, but John insisted he take himself. He had to remember to get her a coffee cup on his way back. That woman could run her own Coffee House. Jayne swore she was the best thing that ever happened to John and had on multiple occasions tried to hook them up. Sylvia was a beautiful woman. Her wife thought so too.
You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.
Gate B-07.
As he went to put his ticket down, he turned his wheel to the side and accidently skirted the side of a curb. Thud, thud, thud, thud, thud..."Shit, must have gotten a flat."He carefully drove his car into the nearest space and parked. After a few moments of contemplation and preparation, he picked up his phone and dialed Sylvia.
"Hey, its me. I'm parked at the Airport but I have a problem."
"What did you do now, and how long do I have to fix it?"
"I sliced a tire on the curb at the airport and I don't know how long I'll be home for, so whenever you can."
"Your wish is my command."
He smirked. Sylvia had a knack for handling things before they ever became real problems. She was the kind of person who could juggle a dozen crises at once and still have time to remind him of his next meeting. He had learned early on that keeping her around was a necessity, not a luxury.
John put his phone back in his back pocket. He walked to the side with the bad tire. It was shredded. He clicked the button on his keys to pop his trunk. One big green duffel bag he affectionately referred to as The Big Green Monster, and a laptop case. Yep, he was all set. A smile crept onto his face. One positive thing would come from this. He couldn't wait to see his sister. She would have a field day with his luggage. One of many things Jayne wished he would change was how he traveled. He could hear her now.
"All of your clothes are going to be wrinkly."
"Well you will just have to iron them."
"You won't be able to fit everything in twice, you always go home with more than you left with."
"Well stop giving me things, I have everything I need."
"You came here without a single matching sock."
"That's why I packed flip flops, The socks are there from last time."
Bless her heart. That woman always worried about him. He had to make sure he packed something for the twins, but he would always forget some of the "bare essentials" for himself. He did it on purpose. He loved watching Jayne twitch. He had the money to have someone pack for him. But why? This was so much more fun. It was the same reason he always got the boys something that would give his sister a heart attack. He visited for his brothers birthday about 6 months or so ago and gave them each one of those three wheel scooter things. The twins were ecstatic! Jay Jay, not so much. She lined the lower half of all her walls with foam pads in the event of a crash. Of course their mother accused him of being cheap. Those bikes were the only things that the boys played with for the rest of the day. She had gotten them each some $200 pair of sandals a few weeks prior. They went to school in them for one day and came home crying because everyone else in their class had shoes that lit up with superheroes on the side. Even though he lived hundreds of miles away, it was John's fault. She claimed he encouraged the boys to be low-brow. Like at 6 years old, a pair of sandals was going to define them for the rest of their lives.
That was another huge problem his mother had. He didn't flaunt their wealth. You could not tell by looking at him that he was "well to do". Well worn shoes, faded jeans and a black T shirt were the base form of his everyday wardrobe. If he found a shirt with a good pun or a funny animal on it, he may change it up. That was a huge contrast to the rest of the family in their sports coats and fancy three piece suits. He could hear her now.
"If you keep dressing yourself like some minimum wage barfly, that's all anyone will treat you as. Take some pride in yourself. You are a Divine. It's far past time you acted like it."
As if spending exorbitant amounts of money and walking around town with a huge stick up your ass was what it meant to be a Divine.His mother had squandered the fortune his father had spent decades building. After he died and she tapped out everything he gave her, she turned her eyes to his siblings. Jayne was easy enough to manipulate. She was caught up in her new marriage. Too much in love to notice that Mom was milking her dry. Dad had just been diagnosed with terminal cancer not long after the nuptials so when Jayne did wise up (credit due to her husband) she decided not to burden him. Six months later Dad died. Jason signed his inheritance over to Mom to prevent them from losing the house so John started Divine Inc. with his money to offset the family's expenses. It was his idea to market Jason's inventions to turn things around. Jayne, having the only level head out of the three of them, volunteered to make sure things ran smoothly when John moved away. Once the company started to make some real money, he insisted on splitting everything in thirds among them, but Jason would hear none of it.
"If we did that, mom would find a way to take our shares, and push you out completely."
For someone Jason's age to already be aware of how terrible a person their mother could be, always broke John's heart. He was usually the first one to plays Devil's Advocate for her though. Whenever John or Jayne would start ranting, Jason would pipe in with some possible explanation of why she might have reacted the way she did to whatever it was that set her off. Jayne was the complete opposite of their mom. She was patient with her boys, she was kind and just, and they always knew she loved them. When Blake died, she was 5 months pregnant so she knew early on she would be doing this on her own. And thus far, she had been thriving. Dad would have been proud. He knew he was.
The terminal loomed ahead, a massive glass and steel structure bathed in the glow of neon advertisements and buzzing flight status monitors. The smell of jet fuel mingled with the crisp bite of night air, the distant roar of departing flights rumbling like an angry storm overhead. Inside it was always the same. Numerous travelers bustled past one another, dragging luggage, shuffling papers, and murmuring in hushed tones as they checked their phones. Some rushed with frantic urgency, others meandered as though time had no meaning. It was a limbo of movement and purpose, and John, as always, found himself somewhere in between.
It wasn’t just about him anymore. He thought about his nephews, about how he wanted them to have the kind of childhood he and his siblings had never gotten. A childhood free from manipulation, from walking on eggshells, from the constant need to prove their worth. He didn’t know if he could ever undo the damage their mother had inflicted on him, but he sure as hell wasn’t going to let her sink her claws into them. They deserved better. His sister did everything she could to protect her children, but their mother had a solid hold on her and Jason both. Its why they never left town. He had no illusions about the fact that being home meant opening old wounds, but for them, he would face it. Someone had to break the cycle.
John slung The Big Green Monster over his shoulder, picked up his laptop bag and shut the trunk with a thud. After tugging on it to make sure it latched properly, he double clicked his key to make sure the car was locked and headed toward the airport. As he neared the doors, he started to mentally prepare himself for the trip ahead. Something had to change. He couldn't prove it, but he had a gut feeling that something his mother did had gotten his brother abducted. Something she said, or someone she introduced him to, put him in harm's way. He decided before coming here that he was tired of it once and for all. There would be no more handouts. He was done with the manipulation, the elaborate excuses, and the constant deprecating remarks. Somebody screwed up. John was going to go home, find his brother, and do what he always did.
Fix his mother's mess.
