Radioman (A 2/19th Spinoff) - Complete

Old Times

The steps crunched, the ice in between the steps crushed by my weight, as I headed up the three stairs and onto the porch. I'd lived there long enough not to slip on the sheet of ice that had formed where the sagging plywood of the porch created a large puddle of water that had frozen over in the snow.

The old key, still on my keyring to remind me of why I left, still fit in the lock. The lock crunched, like it always had, but still unlocked.

The smell of the trailer washed over me when I opened the door, along with a pilowy warmth that still remained after the power had gone out.

I walked in, my limbs loose, just like I had been taught by Stokes.

Three steps into the frontroom and a match lit, bathing someone's hands in light. They leaned forward and lit an oil lamp in front of them.

Larry Keagan. Dave's older brother.

I slipped backwards slightly, staying at the edge of the light, moving next to the small dining table in front of the counter that separated the kitchen of the mobile home from the front room, then a gliding step backwards.

"Dave and our dad figured you wouldn't come here. You'd be in the hospital with your little red headed slut," Larry said. He laughed. "I figured you would. I knew you weren't over Gail yet."

He stood up in the lamp light, shaking his head. "You never did figure it out, did you?"

My fingers moved to the drawer, sliding it open as she spoke.

"You gonna answer me?" He asked me.

My fingers found them right where they had always been. Gail was too lazy to change anything she didn't have to, she wouldn't bother moving the contents of a drawer if she didn't have to.

He made a scoffing noise, shaking his head, moving in front of the lantern.

When I was a kid, he'd delighted in hurting me, in humiliating me. Before I'd moved out, into a home of my own, he was the one that made it so I didn't stay over at Dave's.

"Kind of glad I was the one who found you, Paul," Larry told me. "We used to have a lot of fun together, didn't we Paul."

The words just slid into the emptiness and dissolved.

My fingers closed around two hilts, moving them slowly out of the drawer and behind my back.

"We both know you liked it," he said. "You don't have to deny it. We both know the truth."

The emptiness devoured the words, devoured the images, the memories, his words brought up. I was still hollow, still empty.

"Tell ya what, Paul," Larry said. I didn't look at his hands, I knew what he was going to do. "You and I, we have a little fun like we did when you were younger, and I'll let you and that redheaded cow of yours leave."

The idea of fun crossed the event horizon and was shredded apart, vanishing.

I stepped forward, my hands slightly behind me enough to hide what was in my hands.

Larry's eyes went wife. "What happened to your face, Paul?"

I took another step forward as he looked me up and down. He got a big grin and licked his lips. "That little breeder pig of yours know you like what we used to do?" He smiled widely.

He took two steps forward, reaching out for me, putting his hands on my shoulders. He applied a slight bit of pressure, insistent, as demanding as it had been when I was younger, when I was six years younger than him and unable to do anything about it.