Total pages in book: 96
Estimated words: 88656 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 443(@200wpm)___ 355(@250wpm)___ 296(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 88656 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 443(@200wpm)___ 355(@250wpm)___ 296(@300wpm)
“Paul, you’re not even gonna get up to say hi to your big brother?” I asked, ruffling his red hair.
He jumped up and squealed, throwing his arms around my shoulders. “I didn’t know you were here. Where’s the wrestler? I want to meet the wrestler.”
Paul was only ten years old— the product of a lot of wine and a forgotten contraceptive eleven years after my parents had decided that two kids was plenty. But some accidents are happy accidents, and Paul was definitely a happy one. He had a sunny disposition and a love for all things outdoors, and he was the light in my mother’s eye. Her little garden helper she called him, among other things.
“He’s a UFC fighter,” I told Paul, then turned to find Kage.
He was still seething in the kitchen, listening to my mother explain how her surgery was scheduled for eight on Monday morning, but she had to check in at the ungodly hour of five.
“I mean, what starts at five in the morning?” she was saying.
“Kage,” I called. “Could you come over here? There’s someone I want you to meet.”
Kage dragged himself away from plotting on my ex-girlfriend and came into the living room. “This must be Paul,” he said, turning off his anger long enough to be civil to my brother.
“You’ve heard of me?” Paul asked, and I couldn’t help laughing.
“Of course,” Kage said. “Your brother told me about you. He said you were a wrestling fan.”
Paul nodded emphatically.
“Well, I can show you a few moves if you want. Things to use on bullies if you happen to meet up with any of those.”
“We’ve got a couple at school,” Paul said. “They don’t pick on me, but one of them is mean to my friend.”
“Well, I’ll tell you something I had to learn the hard way. It’s never good to start a fight, and you should always try to walk away if someone starts one with you. But… if someone does try to pick a fight with you, and you try your best to walk away but they won’t stop, it’s good to know some self-defense moves. Just so you don’t get hurt.”
Kage walked Paul over to the large open area at the other side of the living room, and started coaching him. Paul was so thrilled his face was glowing.
I had to admit, I was proud of Kage. Not only was he taking time to dote on my little brother, but he was discouraging fighting except as a means of self-defense. It seemed he did something to surprise me every day.
Most of the time, the surprises were good.
22
THAT night after a supper of delivery pizza, which Kage and I respectfully declined, my father took us into the small room he called his office and pulled a bottle of Johnny Walker Red out of his desk drawer.
“You drink Scotch?” he asked Kage.
“Sure,” he said. “Although Jamie and I will be drinking on empty stomachs, so we probably shouldn’t have too much.”
“Yes.” My father gave me a pointed look. “Jamie looks like he could stand to eat a little pizza.”
“Dad, I’m fine,” I assured him. “I’m healthier than I’ve ever been. This is what I look like when I eat right. You’re just not used to seeing me with so little fat on my body.”
“I can see your bones.”
“Those are muscles, Dad. And I’m fine.”
My mother followed us in and set three glasses on the desk and walked right back out, then my father proceeded to pour us each what amounted to a triple shot.
“I just wanted to drink a toast to both of your professional futures. I realize they’re separate futures, but you both seem to be on your way up, and that’s great.”
“What do you mean, they’re separate futures?” Kage asked.
“Well, I just mean that Jamie will be going back to school soon, and you’ll be fighting in the UFC. Then Jamie will graduate and go on to work for new people who need his services, with you providing a good reference, as you said. That is the plan, isn’t it? He’s done what he set out to do for you, and now that job is pretty much done, am I right?”
“I don’t know,” Kage said, and I recognized the note of challenge in his voice. “That depends on Jamie. It’s pretty much up to him. He’s a big boy, so he can make up his own mind.” He set his empty glass down on the desk with a thump. “Could I have another?”
I felt my eyes go wide, and I downed my own drink. I figured I was going to need it.
After my dad and Kage both finished off another full drink, I interrupted what seemed an awful lot like a standoff, though for the life of me I couldn’t figure it out. “Um, dad… Is Mom going to drive herself to the hospital? Because at the rate you’re going, you’ll be passed out when it’s time to go.”