Day 56

Writing Exercise

…

When things stopped making sense to me yet again, I started getting nervous.

And that was the problem of having an older brother who was an inveterate liar, master manipulator, and downright rogue.

It took me years to realise what sort of a person he was, and it was still a shock.

…

Growing up we didn’t have a lot, two hard-working parents who brought us up in a modest house, a normal education, one that didn’t extend to university, and when the time came, they provided a ticket to a reasonably good job.

Middle of the road, that was how Howie described it. He wanted more, but the problem was, he did;t have the brain smarts, or rather, he didn’t want to put in the effort. He became what my father called a disappointment.

I did have the brain smarts, but being lumped together with my brother as one of the Travers’ hooligans, I was never given a chance. Every time I tried to pull away and make my own path, somehow Howie would turn up and ruin it.

What I never understood was why? Surely he couldn’t hate me so much that he wanted to ruin my life?

That was when two things happened, randomly.

Beth Taylor told me that my brother was a monster whose only aim in life was to ruin any chance I had of being better than him.

That same morning, in his most earnest tone, Howie told me he was sorry for everything he had done, and was going to leave me alone from now on.

When I asked why, he said he had tried his worst and failed. It was time to give up.

That in itself was a red flag, and the more I thought about it, the more nervous I got.

Of course, the moment I turned up at the dinner where I was supposed to meet Beth and have dinner, I knew exactly what was going to happen.

Beth had always been out of my league but I allowed her to lull me into a false sense of security. She had pretended to like me, and when she was not there, I knew that she was one of Howie’s disciples.

She didn’t turn up, but her brother, Bull because of his physique, and three of his friends were there. As soon as I saw them I turned to leave, only to find another disciple standing in my way.

Something else had happened that morning after Beth spoke to me. Ritchie, another hapless soul who suffered the unwanted attention of Bull, happened to be lurking after Beth left. He asked me what we were talking about and when I told him, he snorted.

He told me I was wasting my time, but I was an optimist.

He said I was a fatalist and simply shrugged. It was, he said, my funeral.

Being herded towards Bull and his friends at the far booth, I had to reluctantly agree with him.

“Woebegone Travers.” Bull said it with a smirk and his friends all laughed.

I would have corrected him, but the broken bones were not worth it.

“Sit down.”

The two opposite Bull moved up to make space.

“I think I’ll stand.”

“That wasn’t a request.”

“I thought it was. Don’t you listen to this fool.”

It was like Bull’s head was on a swivel it turned around so fast, to see who was interrupting his playtime.

Griff, short for Griffin, and the last person who called him by that name spent a week in the hospital.

Quarterback, wrestler, hometown hero, a boy who was as gentle as he could be forceful. The girls loved him. But he did have an enemy.

Bull, wannabe quarterback, rubbish wrestler, despised by all, and simply just a thug.

“This has nothing to do with you, Griff. Walk away.”

“I come for the dinner. Roast turkey and all the trimmings. Dinner with my friend, Wally. He said that Beth would be here, but I guess that’s one of your little tricks, eh, Bull. Tricky little bull.”

He shook his head and tsk-tsked.

Bull’s uncle owned the diner, which is why Bull could get away with what he did. That family were all tarred with the same brush. I saw him come out from the kitchen to see what was happening.

He looked at Bull, then looked at Griff and he looked at me. He knew what was about to happen. “Take it outside.”

Griff looked at Bull, then his uncle, then me, then back to the uncle.

“Of course. Wally, come join me outside while we wait for the tricky little bull.”

I looked at Bull. “It’s not been a pleasure, Terence.”

No one called Bull Terance and lived, so it was only going to add to the excitement. But sadly, there would be no excitement. Bull would leave by the back door. He didn’t fare well when he had to front up to trouble.

“Who sent you,” I asked when we got outside.

“Beth. She had a long think about what she’d done, which you have to admit for her is a first, and then told me. Sensible girl.”

“My brother is just as bad.”

“Howie? He’s just having trouble picking the right side.” He shrugged.

Like me, he saw Bull and his friends leave through the kitchen. “I think we made our point,” he said. “I don’t think he’ll bother you again. I’m disappointed about the turkey dinner though.”

Until tomorrow. I was not as optimistic as Griff.

…

©  Charles Heath  2025