Pop: Chapter 6b

     "So, what are you guys getting ready ..." Gil turns around to start a conversation, but stops after seeing Sam's surly disposition. "Okay, let's just head to LaGuardia."

    Gil keeps to himself for the rest of the drive.  I'm not sure if that makes him lucky or not.  I barely look up from my phone as I keep up with the tolls.  That's one thing I won't miss about New York.

    I used to not be able to fly.  On my first ever plane ride, on my way to Florida for spring break my sophomore year of college, I developed a severe headache and a steady nose bleed.  Fortunately, I was able to hide my condition from the flight crew, or else they would have had to make an emergency landing somewhere in Georgia.  As it was, my friends were able to get me to an ER before going to the hotel room we booked near the beach in Daytona.  I was stuck at the hospital for two days before the doctors finally found out what was wrong with me.

    Turned out, I had poor drainage from my sinuses due to obstructed nasal cavities.  I was lucky I was only on a plane.  I could have died if I had been somewhere else, like a submarine.  Somehow, the pressure caused a blood vessel to break.  It was a minor leak and had healed on its own, but the danger was there if I ever flew again.  Or somehow wanted to stay underwater in a sub for any length of time.  I was able to finally get to the hotel to spend the rest of my vacation.

    Which was a few hours.  Because of my newfound medical condition, I was going to have to take a bus back to Lexington.  The only direct departure that would get me back in time for classes was leaving that afternoon.  I managed a trade with one of my friends, Pete who had made his own way down separately.  It would've been the first time I had seen him in almost a year after he changed schools.

    Anyway, I managed to get back to UK in time,  but the lingering hatred over Pete for leaving me and Rick and Jim began to grow.  It would be years before I would finally forgive him.  I managed to keep my mother from finding out about my incident.  I was just starting to pay for my own insurance at the time, so it wasn't too hard.  

    For the next few years, I managed to go without air travel, until I met Sam.  I had to drive up to New York with him to iron out the secrets my Dad and him were keeping.  After from Dad had recovered enough from the transplant and latest rounds of treatment, I finally decided to get the out-patient surgery to fix my nose.  After that, we would take the plane back to Kentucky for most trips.  We did make one last road trip that fall to pick up some of my stuff before moving to the manor.  I traded in my old car for a new one then.

    "We're pulling in now.  You two better get ready."  Gil startles me out of my daze with his announcement.

    "Thanks, Gil.  Sorry we weren't good passengers today."  I deliberately try no to look at Sam as Gil comes to a stop at the unloading zone.

    "No prob, Mr. Burton.  You two be careful wherever you are going."  Gil stays inside the car while we get out.  He peels out as soon as Sam crosses the road to my side.

    "How long before we leave?  I'm hungry, and I need to hit the head."  Sam, always straight to the point.

    "At least another hour.  Clear weather for the entire east coast today, but there were some storms over the Rockies last night, so there might be a delay.  Plenty of time to eat before we have to clear for boarding."

    "I'll meet you over there," Sam points to breakfast hub to our left, "after I leave the restroom."

    Sam jogs to the right to the massive restrooms.  Yeah, this is going to be a fun day.  Nothing else bad could happen.

Pop: Chapter 6a

     I go back to my room to make sure I have finished getting ready.  I don't have much to pack, as I still keep around a third of my clothes at the Lexington home, mostly my older stuff.  I bought so many things new since I moved here and started really exercising.  I needed the new wardrobe just to keep up. However, I usually switch things around every few months whenever I go back for a trip.  Looks like I'll be moving everything now.

    Today, I only need my computer tote and a small bag for toiletries and accessories.  Everything else is for home.  My old and new one.  I grab the bags and turn out the lights as I leave the room. Sam is rushing back from the bathroom, wearing a wet towel around his waist.  I guess he didn't shower last night after all.  As he notices me, he stops for a second before going into his room, throwing the towel back at me as he closes the door. 

    I catch it before it hits the floor and rush and take it with me downstairs.  There's no time to wash it before we need to leave, and I will not let a wet towel lay around for over a week to mold.  I find an old plastic bag and stuff the towel into it.  I then stuff the towel into my own bag.  Fortunately, I under packed it for just such an emergency.  I'm just lucky Sam didn't chose a bigger towel.  I hate having to do laundry so soon after getting back, but it can't be helped.

    "I'm here.  Are we ready to go, now?"  

    Sam had stuck up behind me.  I din't think he would be that fast after his little tirade, but he's dressed, barely.  He has on a white tee that just barely covers him.  It must be a year or two old to be so tight on him.  The shorts are a little better.  Black, knee-length, and somewhat loose.  I suppress a sigh.

    "Just need to make sure everything is off.  Did you turn off the lights upstairs?  And where's your bags?"

    "I left them in the hall.  And there's only one.  You had me leave a bunch of stuff the last time there."  That was over spring break, so it would be a mix of winter and summer.  It should be fine, as long as he's not growing more.

    "Fine.  Meet me in the hall while I finish up."

    "Aren't we eating before we go?"  Sam and his stomach.  He must be in another growth spurt.

    "No.  We'll eat on the way."

    Sam wanders into the pantry to steal a protein bar, and who knows what, while I take a last sprint around the house to make sure everything is off, again.

    When I return, Sam is munching on one of my blueberry bars by the front door.  I set the alarm just as our ride pulls up into the driveway.  What can I say?  I have a perfect sense of timing.

    The driver gets out.  I don't recognize him.  No.  I do.  

    "Gil?  What's happened to you?"  His hair was shaved off and so was his 'stache.

    "It's different.  Solidarity for a friend starting cancer treatments."  Gil pats his bald head as he waits for a response. "Do you need any help with your bags?"

    "No thanks," I respond.  Sam has already bounded into the back seat on the passenger's side, my favorite spot. I'll have to walk around to the other side to get in.  

    As soon as we are both situated and buckled in, Gil slips behind the wheel to start out.

    "Where to?" he asks.  "Just to make sure my schedule hasn't changed."  

    "LaGuardia.  Our flight leaves in two hours."

Pop: Chapter Six

     "Sam!  Wake up!  We're going to be late!  We only have another half hour or so before we'll be leaving!"  I'm yelling at my brother while pounding on his door, trying to make sure he's up.  

    "I'm not going," he mumbles through the door.  So, he's awake and still in bed.

    "Sam, you have to go.  You have that meeting with UK's swim coach and the rest of the team Friday. It will be easier to go with me today than reschedule things to go there later.  Even if you decide to change schools, you have to show up.  You might have problems if you don't."

    Because of Sam's late declaration and top showings at the last few meets of his senior year, Sam never got to have many of the official meetings on campus that most new athletes get.  As it was, he had to jump through a few extra hoops to get things done, but everything was above-book and legal.  No shadowy deals or anything of that nature.  Still, he still needs a few more last minute details to finish up on before fall.

    Suddenly, the door flies open and Sam is standing there, buck naked, with a grimace on his face.  I     quickly turn my head.

    "Fine!  I'll go, but I don't like it."  Sam slams the door back.

    "Just make sure you're wearing something appropriate."  At least he was excited about something, just not the trip.

    Everything after we got home yesterday afternoon was horrible.  Sam went up to his room and sulked the day away.  I went back to the library to work some more on The Third Generation.  I discovered the note I left just after where I had stopped at earlier.  I had forgotten to put in the subplot about the origins of  "The Wanderers."  This was a concept based on a really old supplement that had since been declared culturally inappropriate and somewhat derogatory.  I had been working on a new way to present this group with a some game designers soon after I posted my first stories online.  We just had the new material okayed late last year, and it had been well-received.  Now, I had to incorporate it into my novel, just so that the timelines would line up.  A hassle, but well worth it.

    I finished up the afternoon with a basic weightlifting session.  I usually don't go three days in a row, but I knew I would be too busy for another session for the next few days.  Besides, ti was mostly accessory work.  Fairly light and easy.  I didn't improve my mood as well as I had hoped.

    I was able to get Sam to go out for dinner with me by evening.  I didn't want to cook and leave either trash or leftovers to wait around until a get back a week from now.  We went in his electric eyesore down to Rosettis for the Strombolis, Sam's favorite.  He barely ate or talked to me the entire time.  I was just lucky he sat at the same table.  He didn't even want the radio on the ride home.  Pure silent treatment.

    He went back to his room while I finished getting ready and watching some television before turning in a little early myself.  I think he took a shower.  At least I hope so.  

Pop: Chapter 5b

     "Wait, what?!" Sam sputters out.  "What do you mean by 'sell the house'?  How can you sell our home?"

    "Sam,"  Dad begins, "that place hasn't been my home for years, if ever truly.  For goodness sakes, I almost had to take a piss in the laundry sink because I didn't think I could make it all the way to the hall bathroom and back without the wheelchair at your own graduation party.  That is no way for a grown man to live."

    "Dad, language."

    "For goodness sakes, Chris.  Sam's old enough to hear it.  He's probably said worse in front of his friends for a while now." Dads, but he has a point.

    "What about the memories? What about me? Where will I stay when I transfer to your school next year?" Sam starts to insist.

    Here it comes.

    "Memories!  You have no idea about how I feel.  You don't need an old, stuffy house for memories.  And you aren't ever going to that school either."  Dad looks like would say something else, but he turns to look at me first. He stares for a second, before turning back to Sam.  I get the hint and stay out of the conversation for now.

    "As to where you'll be staying, freshmen have to stay in the dorms, don't they?  For weekends and holidays, you can stay with me or with Chris and Addie at their place, although I think they deserve some privacy the first few weeks after the wedding."

    "Wait a minute."  Sam turns back to face me.  "You and Addie.  Last Christmas, you mentioned that you were going to remodel the upstairs after deciding to stop taking in renters.  You knew.  All the way back then that Dad was going to sell the house.  Didn't you?"

    "No, I didn't." I take a breathe before continuing.  "Last December, I was planning to remodel the upstairs before selling the place.  But this February, Dad informed me that he wanted to get a job elsewhere and move.  He was hoping for Kentucky, based on his history there from when he met my mother.  The project hadn't started yet, so I had the time to consult with Addie and we decided that Lexington would be the best place to stay.  She started looking at job offers while I contacted the contractors.  We were able to make enough adjustments so that upstairs would be done by June, and other changes could be started and done by fall, for the most part.  Honestly, I wanted to tell you, but Dad wanted to keep everything hushed until he got the confirmation."

    "No.  It was Addie wasn't it?  She's the one who put you up to this, this disaster.  She just wants me out of the way.  Forcing me and Dad out of the picture so she has you all to herself.  She hates us and will do anything to get us out of the way, even if it means losing everything."  Sam is raising his voice, all but screaming now.

    "SAM!  Don't put the blame on your brother and Addie.  This is all my idea, as I said."  Dad takes a stern approach.  Not sure if that will help. "It will take weeks, if not months to go through everything for the move.  I haven't even looked for a house down there yet.  And even after the move, it could take months, years even, before we sell the house.  Stuff will be here at least until the end of the year.  After we get back from Lexington, we'll start going through the personal things and the artwork.  They are the most important.  By the time Chris gets back from his honeymoon, we'll be able to start going through the furniture and stuff.  Some we'll take, some stays here for the realtors to deal with, the rest will be sold off.  It's not he end of the world, Sam.  This, this is for the best."

    How Dad manages to keep some much to himself is amazing.  I try to give him a look and nod to encourage him to tell Sam the rest, but. he deliberately tries not to make eye contact.  Meanwhile, Sam has somehow managed to keep on eating, almost cleaning his plate.  I've barely gotten halfway through my portion.  On some level, I'm kind of glad I haven't found a way to finish.

    We are all quiet for a few minutes, as Sam and Dad finish their meal.  I take a few more nibbles before leaving much of mine untouched.

    "I think it's time we leave, Dad.  We will all need the time to get ready for our trips tomorrow."

    "I think you're right, Chris.  You two best be off.  Call me later tonight," he pointedly looks at Sam,"both of you.  If either of you need to talk, or if the Lexington plans have changed.  You don't have to clear the table.  I think I can manage that on my own."

    Both Sam and I take our plates over to the sink, after I scrape mine back onto the serving tray.  Dad will either toss it or freeze it.

    "See you soon, Dad.  Call you tonight."  Sam just grumbles and nods Dad's way as we walk back to the door and into the Beretta.

    The silence builds as I drive us down the street.  I have to say something, without breaking Dad's trust.

    "You know, there might be something good that comes out of this.  If you just . . ."  A small pop interrupts me.  The stink hits me a second or two later.

    "Sam, did you just" I pause as Sam lifts up his left leg and lets out another one.  Longer, louder, and much smellier.

    I quickly start cranking the window down.  How drivers lived without power windows is beyond me. I all but stick my head out so I can breathe.

    "You know, you're just punishing yourself.  Remember, the passenger's window has been sticking lately.  You won't be able to get it down."

    Sam blindly stares at me for another second before he tries to grab the window handle to roll it down, to no avail.  He just glare at me back.  Just another one of the traits of the typical Burton male:  brown hair, hazel eyes, and emotional bouts of intense flatulence.  

    I grab my protein bar at the next stop sign and take a few bites to help get the stink out of my mouth. Besides, I'm still hungry. I'm glad I ate so little of the lasagna.  There's no way I could handle a trip with the threat of so much methane.  I just hope it's out of our systems before tomorrow.