Water In My Lungs: Sins of the Father

Voices

Darach's fingers tightened over the steering wheel, knee shaking as he waited for the couple in front of him to make their way across the broad street and into the market place. He sighed in exasperation, jerking the car into park. His grey orbs flitted over the young pair, and the girl's neck craning to the side to send him a smug smile as they took their time. He thought of driving the car through their interlaced hands.  Why not? 

Darach's jaw gritted, the voice bouncing against a forming headache. After a moment, Rogan stretched his arm over him, pressing into the horn. The girl jumped, raising her middle finger in the air.

“She's cute,” Rogan scoffed from the passenger seat. He reached over, rolling Darach's window down. “I love the mustache!” he hollered. Darach chuckled, grin splitting across his face as he shoved the ruddy haired boy out of his space. The girl flustered, gripping her boyfriend tighter as she hurried across the road.

“You are such a little shit.” Darach laughed, momentarily forgetting his anger from before. Kennedy's humor was apparent in the smile that he wore in the rearview mirror.

“Hey, I got my Da off your back and the lovebirds to speed it up, give me some credit.” Rogan's grin was wide, eyes flickering over the rolling scenery. “Where are we off to?” The options were low and the shops old. The marketplace was open but mostly sold vegetables, fish, and accessories for women.

“The Coffee Dock opened at six,” Kennedy offered, leaning over the bucket seat between the two boys. “We haven't gone there in forever.”

“That's because you have no life,” Rogan joked, ruffling the soft curls on Kennedy's head. They flounced upwards and Kennedy sputtered, jerking away from his hand. He patted down the flyaway hairs with a roll of his eyes.

“I have class, that constitutes as a life. And student loans mean I have no money.” Rogan snorted, shrugging. The blonde fell back into his seat, face hidden behind the screen of his phone. “I'm up all night with you two, anyway.” Kennedy's accusing blue-green eyes narrowed over the top of his cell, but he was smiling.

Darach listened to the two men continue to banter, resting against his hand, elbow placed against the window. He used his other hand to steer, the bland grey of the morning sky still robbing the town of sunlight. The thickening storm clouds above promised rain, loons flying just above the ships in the docks. 

Ar deireadh... His eyes jilted from the road and over to the expanse of wooden stairs that lead to the vessels. His heartbeat accelerated.

Please, I don't want you to be upset.  The dark haired boy heard his mother, a fear clinging to the youth of her voice. His chest seized, car slowing as his eyes flickered from the dock and back to the road, panic pushing through his breathlessness.

I knew you were still in there...  It was the same man's voice again, the voice that always rung just behind his mother's.

“Fuck, Darach.” Rogan's hand came down hard on his shoulder, disturbing the older teen's internal struggle. “Hey man, let me drive.”

“You okay?” Kennedy asked, hunching over the seats again. Darach took a moment to respond, pulling off near the sidewalk and yanking the keys from the engine.

“Fine,” he breathed, the metal of the car door cool against his hand as he left it open for his friend. He hopped down onto the pavement, boots colliding with the gravel as his heavy steps displayed his frustration. Rogan stopped him halfway around the vehicle, hunching forward like his father did with his hands in his pockets.

“You really okay?” he asked, the playfulness retracting from his deepening voice. Darach nodded again, scratching behind his neck as he averted his eyes.