Rough Road Ahead (In Progress)

Chapter 4

  

                                                                 ****

            My mother was cooking dinner an hour later. Max was dicing some vegetables chef style, just barely missing his hand. I kept thinking the carrots were his fingers.

             Brad was awake. I saw him immerge from the doorway, rubbing his eyes with his fists, "what time is it?" He asked groggily.

            No one answered for a few moments so he repeated the question. Mother finally answered, "it's six," she hummed.

            "Thanks." He said half-heartedly, "need some help?" I was taken aback - Brad asking to help with dinner? I thought I would never see that as long as I lived along with pigs flying, robots taking over the world and vegetables growing personalities. However, I also thought I would never see my mother cooking, and somehow that was happening. So why couldn't this?

            My mother gave him a perplexed look before handing over her chefs knife and saying, "sure, honey. Could you cut the chicken?"

            He smiled, starting work. Max looked at him with a half smile, half puzzled expression, stopping his chopping for a moment.

            I shrugged, I didn't know my brother that well; he was always out of the room when I entered it, out with his friends or avoiding me all together, so maybe this was just a side to him I had never had the pleasure of witnessing.

            It was a little after seven before the meal was complete. We had chicken salad dressed with mayonnaise and tomatoes and some steamed veggies on the side.

            Everyone was bombarding the kitchen, so Sam and I decided in unison to wait until the rush was over. Brad pushing through both my mother and Max and slapped some food on a plate. He did the same for another before returning to his Lazy-Boy, food in hand and put one of the two in front of Sam. "A peace offering," Brad said, pointing to the plate before him, "eat up."

            Sam looked at him, then back at me before picking the plate up, fork in hand. He took a bite. "Thanks, man," he smiled as I got up to get some food.

Maybe Brad had realized what a dick he had been and decided to make it up to us?

            I picked up a small piece of chicken, but then put it back remembering my diet. Instead I opted for some salad and veggies forgoing the dip that rested so temptingly beside it.

            We were using paper plates, I guessed cooking dinner was hard enough for my mother. Sitting down again I dug into my food, eating every last bite and then going back for seconds. Brad got up and went to the washroom, leaving his plate on the table in front of him, half eaten.

            My dad suddenly started swearing from the driver's seat. "Fuck!" He screamed louder than he should have and his voice echoed through the trailer, causing me to jump from my seat.

            "What's the matter?" Max asked, pulling his headphones from his ears and looking at my father whose eyes were visible through the rearview mirror. They looked wild and crazy, a look my passive father rarely exhibited.

            "Cop is pulling me over." He murmured turning the steering wheel and stopping the car, I felt the engine bump once before coming to a complete halt.

            "What?" Brad asked, sounding panicked. "Why?" He called from the bathroom, opening the door and walking out. There was a horrible smell that followed him, almost as if he had been unlucky enough to be sprayed by a skunk.