fantasy or reality
"I JUST DON'T FEEL LIKE YOU CARE," Ward Cameron scolds his oldest child, outside in the burning heat, a better place to yell than inside.
"I said I do!" Rafe yells back, not angry enough to get up and challenge his father though.
"You said," Ward argues back, disappointment wafting around him like the smell of cigarettes.
"What do you want me to say?" Rafe questions, disbelief, and entitlement can do that to you.
"I don't want you to say anything! I want you to take care of business!" Ward shouts. His voice attracts his middle child Sarah Cameron to creep into the shadows.
"Okay!"
"Where are the generators? I gave you money for the generators." His father states, an angry calm washing over him. "You said that you would take care of it. Did you take care of it? Where are they?"
Rafe looks down at his hands picking at the chair, before coming up with a straight face lie. "They're on backorder."
Power machines and tools can be heard in the distance, building tension with every rev.
"Yeah, of course, they are." Ward sets down his glass, sitting down on the chair in front of his son.
"There was a hurricane," Rafe starts to complain but his father doesn't let him.
"I'll tell you what. Do you know that Pogue I just fired? Way more reliable than you."
"Really?"
"Yeah, really! You need to get it together, Rafe, or you can go live on the cut."
Rafe scoffs, shaking his head because he's heard that one, countless times before.
"You think that's funny to you?"
"Yeah, wow." He replies, ignoring his father completely and looking off into the distance. "Wow."
"You can go live on the damn cut, Rafe, as far as I'm concerned."
Rafe doesn't answer, just stares out into the backyard, his eyes tearing up as he twists his family ring with his other hand.
"Now get out of here. I'm sick of lookin' at you," he points to the door. Rafe immediately gets up, ignoring anything his father has to say to him after that. "Make yourself useful somewhere, somehow."
Before Rafe walks back into his house, Ward remembers something.
"One last thing, stay away from Martha Holland."
"Wha"— he turns back around, fears finally flood his eyes, his brain, his everything. What did that bitch do now? She'll pay.
"Nuh-uh, I don't want to hear it. I'm giving you the benefit of the doubt because you are my son. Stay away for your own good."
"Who told you?! Did Sarah tell you"—
"Don't bring your sister into this. May I remind you, that you are almost 20 goddamn years old? That should be enough to turn you away from the girl."
"Did Sarah tell you?" He repeats. He hates when his father ignores him on purpose.
"No. Mrs. Holland came down the other day to tell me about the verbal and drunk altercation you got in at the Oakland Inn. I need to make a very, very important deal with her father, don't screw this up for me."
➵ ➵ ➵
"POPE, WE'RE NOT STEALING THE DRONE. We're borrowing it," John B announces to the group as they speed down the dirt roads of the cut. John B is driving, as usual; Kiara is sitting shotgun; Pope has his feet out on the couch; JJ is sitting on the carpeted floor and Marty is laying down with her head on his lap.
"Humans are the only animal that can't tell fantasy from reality," Pope recites, looking out the window, watching the trees blur by.
"Where'd you come up with that?" John B questions, curious to what Pope really meant because they all know he loves his metaphors.
"Albert Bernstein," Martha mumbles, earning a nod from Pope as he continues.
"But it applies to this whole treasure-hunting thing."
Martha cringes as silence erupts from the driver's seat, a teensy-tiny "oh" slips from her baby brother's mouth.
"So, which is it? Fantasy or reality?"
"Why you so weird, Pope?" JJ asks, twisting his stick that he's been concentrating on for the past twenty minutes.
"It's fantasy, but possible reality," Kiara adds, making an excellent point.
"Reality." John B confirms.
"I agree with Kie," Martha utters, too busy watching JJ trying to light his stick.
"Virtual reality," he mumbles, the stick halfway in his mouth. As he leans down to light the tightly wrapped bud, Pope swipes it from his mouth and flings it across the van.
"Keep the signal clear," he motions to his head, referring to it as his signal.
JJ's eyes practically bulge out of his head in anger, slamming his metallic lighter closed. Marty mouths a thank you to Pope in appreciation, just as he receives a scolding from the blond boy above her. She adores high JJ just as any other person does, but not when they're literally breaking the law.
John B pulls up to the side of the road, the boatyard just around the corner. Kiara and Martha scramble out of the car, they know what they're doing.
"Hey, don't worry. You guys got this," John B reassures them, even if he doesn't like the idea. It was the girls' idea, and it was a good idea, he just hates it. His girl best friend and his "older" sister going off to flirt with some guy is not what he wanted.
"It's not me that I'm worried about," Kiara says, pointing to the two idiots bickering in the backseat of the Volkswagen.
"Don't worry, older guys love me!" Martha jokes, causing JB to deadpan instantly. "It's funny, you can laugh."
He simply shakes his head.
"Too soon, gotcha. Well, bye J! Bye Pope!" Marty and Kiara wave goodbye and quickly walk over to the entrance of the salvage yard.
"Excuse me!" Kiara yells while Martha shouts hello! towards the man in the air-conditioned minuscule building.
"Hi!" Kiara greets the bald-headed man as he walks outside. His eyes falling down slightly as he looks at their smooth legs. Why is everyone a fucking creep in this town?
"Um, we actually have a flat tire. And we were wondering if maybe you could help us out?"
The man looks around, he wasn't doing anything all day anyway. "Yeah, lemme go get the pump."
"Go ahead, thanks!" Marty smiles, biting her bottom lip in anticipation. This is going to work.
"Too fucking easy," Kiara utters, giggling with Martha as the man opens the gate.
"How's it going with Kiara?" JJ whispers as he watches Kie and Marty interact with the unsuspecting man.
"It's not awkward, weird, or anything," John B concludes, his legs growing tired from squatting for so long. JJ scoffs at his answer.
"Honestly, I did not think you were gonna actually listen to me."
"What?" John B turns his head, surprised by JJ's confession.
"I was 100 percent sure she was into you. Pope would agree."
"Ehhh.." Pope voices, he knows something no one else does.
"So, like, Kie, she, like, definitely gave you the Heisman?"
"Oh, no question. Yep," John B whispers back, his eyes glued to the girls, waiting for their signal. "How's it going with Martha?"
"Oh yeah, we chillin'. We're good, I think." JJ whispers back, his smile growing as he watches Marty laugh at something Kie said.
"You think?" Pope queries.
"Yeah, I think. I mean I've already met her mom. I like her and besides, we haven't had time to be alone and talk."
"Wow, you've really fallen for her, huh?" John B asks, turning his head to see JJ's bright blue eyes on Martha the whole time.
"Yeah, maybe a little too much," Pope mumbles, causing both Johnny's and JJ's heads to spin.
"What the hell does that mean?" JJ questions, his voice rising above a whisper in anger. John B shushes him but it's no use, there's no stopping the boy once he's angry. "No, no I wanna hear what he has to say."
"Listen JJ, I just don't want to see you crash and burn. You're usually never caught up on one girl. You might be more into her than she is of you."
Suddenly the gate starts to close, startling the trio of boys as they race to get in before they get locked out again.
"Probably just been sitting in the yard too long?" The guard offers up a reason for the fake flat tire, Kiara leaning on the boat confidently as Martha stands by the back end, rehearsing a conversation starter in her head if need be.
"Yeah," she says in a smooth voice, her eyes easily running up and down his body to make it look like she was checking him out. Marty sees JJ look back towards her, she smiles for a moment and he smiles too, racing to the entrance of the yard.
"Yeah, yeah— I got this," the man says, kneeling down to take a look at the tire.
"Thank you so much," Marty speaks up, trying not to act suspicious even though she could shit her pants from how much of a nervous wreck she is. The gate closes firmly, the sound of shoes sprinting through the dirt and sand drowned out by the air pump as he plugs the nozzle into the tire.
Sixty seconds pass and a dog can be heard in the distance, distracting the man for a split second. Worry drains from his face. "Do you hear that?"
Kiara and Martha make estranged eye contact before Kiara shakes her head quickly. "No. Hear what?"
"No, no, I think Tebow's got somethin'." The security guard professes, standing up and trying to crane his neck over to see what the commotion was about.
"I wouldn't worry," Marty voices. "It's probably a rat or raccoon or something that's got em barkin' like that."
"Yeah, yeah, you're right," the bald-headed man replies, simmering back down into his squatting position and continuing to refill the air as Kiara makes her way to the other side to release air from the other tire.
But it's too loud.
And it wasn't a part of the plan so Marty couldn't react in time. She didn't have a conversation starter prepared, she needed more time.
"What are you doing?" The security guard confronts Kiara, who quickly went around the other side after Martha's failed attempt to stop him.
"This— this one looks a little low, too."
The dog barking didn't stop, signaling the guard that something terribly wrong had taken place here. Kiara calls out to him but he's already made up his mind.
"Wait, wait, wait!" She yells, trying to reach the man but he's gone. "Shit!" She looks to where Martha is, but she's not there. She's following the man. "Marty, no! Goddamn it."
Running to the sound of the continuous dog barking, Martha follows the security guard to a ladder pressed up against a rusty-looking ship, Seahorse.
"What's that, huh? What's that, Tebow?" The guy raises his voice, his hand laying on his gun, ready to pull it out of its holster and lay a few rounds in whatever the cougar was barking at. "Whatcha got, huh? What you got?"
Tebow stops barking, finally. Martha thought she'll become the Daughter of Sam if he kept making a noise like that.
"Whoever's up there better come on out! I mean it!"
"Wait!" Martha calls out, her face flushed from runner's high. The security guard turns to her, gun raised. "Please don't shoot!"
JJ could tell from her voice that she's uneasy doing this right now but it was all worth his fear of what she said next.
"My- I- uh, my boyfriend's up there!" She points to the ship, her word choice bouncing off the walls and ringing in his eardrums. Boyfriend. "He needed to get somethin' and I told him that this plan was stupid, but he didn't listen. I'm sorry my friend and I tried to trick you back there, but please don't shoot."
"You got your girl here all frightened and shit, don't make me go up there and get your ass! Come on out, now!"
"Wait, Bobby!" His voice cracking as his realistic tears build in his eyes. JJ raises his shaky arms up into the air, surrendering himself as he stands up. "Don't shoot. It's me, JJ. Luke's kid."
"What are you doin'?"
"I swear, okay? I didn't want to, okay?" Salty tears streaming down his face as he blinks, looking down over a worried Martha. So she wasn't faking it.
"My dad made me," his voice wavers as he comes to the edge.
"Don't you lie to me," Bobby points to JJ, then to Martha. "Don't you lie to her."
"He told me Captain Leo kept his cutting torch," his breath shaking as he explains his situation. "You know after he got fired. He said if I didn't get it for him, he was gonna..."
"He was gonna hit me again." He looks down, disappointed in himself for using this familiar plot.
Martha, on the other hand, is crying. Slowly but surely, she is. She hates crying in front of people, nonetheless strangers.
Bobby scoffs, knowing what his father is like, he has no choice but to believe him. "Son of a bitch!"
"I'm sorry," he apologizes.
"Come on down," Bobby orders, JJ instantly turning around and climbing down the ladder. "I almost killed you."
"I know," he sniffles, adding to his act. "I'll just come up with somethin'. Tell him I couldn't find it. Sorry."
"Don't apologize to me! Say sorry to your girl here, after saving your ass," Bobby demands.
JJ barely turns around completely, instantly catching Martha in a passionate hug. His arms tightly around her back and waist, pulling her in closer as she quietly and quickly sobs into his neck. "I'm sorry baby McFly, I'm so sorry," his apology is muffled as he whispers into her neck.
"It's okay, as long as you're okay." She pulls away from him, her hand instantly wrapping around his.
"All right, now. Get on."
The couple nods, turning around to conceive their smirk as they finally head out. Arms wrapped around each other.