No Place For Heroes

Chapter 4 - Birthday Dinner

My left eye throbbed for the whole walk home.  It didn’t swell as much as I’d expected, but I didn’t need a mirror to know it was black.  Mum wouldn’t be happy either; tonight was Tyler’s birthday dinner, so anything that wasn’t perfect would probably tip her over the edge. 

The house was dark when I walked through the front door.  Mum was already sitting at one end of the table, wearing the elegant emerald dress she saved for special occasions.  A candle had been lit in the centre of the table, creating a tiny sphere of light that didn’t extend beyond the spread Mum had prepared. 

“You didn’t wish your brother a happy birthday this morning, Adam,” Mum said quietly.

“I was running late for work.”

She snorted.  “I’m sure people could’ve waited an extra five min–” She broke off, having just noticed my eye.  “What’s that on your face?”

“I got punched,” I said casually. 

There was a pause, during which I could sense her hot gaze upon me.

“You realise what tonight is, don’t you, Adam?”

I pretended to think about it for a second.

“Yes.”

Of course, I hadn’t expected to receive any sympathy from Mum, the stupid woman.  And sure enough I didn’t get any.

“Then why did you choose tonight to get caught up in a fight?  Are you just selfish, is that it?  Did I raise a selfish son?”

“I didn’t choose to get punched.  I was … defending myself.” 

“Don’t be so stupid, Adam.  You really expect me to believe you defended yourself in a fight?” Mum said tartly. “Come on.  What a complete load of –”

“Well I did.  And I won, for your information.”

She looked at me, her lips pursed.  She waited a few seconds, apparently weighing up her next words carefully. 

“Is that how your father taught you to behave, then, is it?  Like a bloody animal that uses its fists?”

“Most animals don’t have fists,” I murmured. 

Mum’s mouth tightened.

“You cheeky little bastard –”

“It was Blake and Connor, all right?” I blurted.  

At once, Mum froze.  The mood shifted instantly.  From what I could make of Mum’s shadowy face, her expression had turned livid and cold.

“You mean …Blake and Connor –?”

“Do you know any other boys in this town named Blake and Connor?”

For a moment I thought the anger was about to return, but then she seemed to compose herself.

“Did you hit them back?”

“Sort of.  I shoved one of them and they fell into the door.”

Even in the dim light, I could see the disappointment etched on her face.

“And I threw a can of beer at one of their heads.”

“Did it hit him?”

“Yeah.  Course,” I lied.

“Good.” 

Slowly, Mum got to her feet and left the room.  She returned a few seconds later with a bag of frozen peas.