Next Of Kin

Mother always told him that God created this Earth and his father wore that beauty down daily in his pick-up truck. Back then, Shayne did not know the significance of these scorning’s, if fact- if he was honest, he despised his mother talking about his father like that. But when Shayne was nine years old his Pap told him that he was the last precious thing left in their house. In I996 he can still picture his Pappa’s eyes, the way his lips moved like a hurricane, his top teeth grinding down on the bottom row of ash-tray offcuts. He said If he ever left- it would be with a bullet through the back of his head. That’s when his life sentence started and the day his mother left…

Early that morning Shayne’s blind snagged on the edge of the window and tore itself to pieces, he used his fingers as a make shift screen trying to saviour the darkness of sleep for a little longer, but the out-pouring of light filled his room with an intensity he will never see again. Flacks of orange dust from the road also floated in through the window shutters, this would be the only day that Shayne was thankful for being on the ground floor. The final essences of his mother floating into his bedroom, he will never know why he knew instinctively to gather up that dust and place it into a box beneath his bed, as if he was an wonton explorer gathering dust from his homeland as a keep sake. All that he felt was an intensity to fall back to sleep and forget the smell of gasoline filling his nostrils, but the light of day falling into his eyesight, meant that returning to ignorant bliss was the only dream left.

Texan Meritt was drunk, he knew this from the stench of liquor which tarnished his father’s breath as he dragged him from his mattress, the way he squeezed his hand too hard as he guided Shayne’s half hypnotic body from the house.

“Brass. Move quickly You’ve sealed my allegiance with your mother since the moment you were born. I need that now, more than ever”

Shayne tried to make sense of his father’s speech, did he need him or was he always going to be a car wreckage, from which Texan pulled out the required parts. As if his Pop had no other control over the world around him, all he knew was to fill his body with gasoline and hope that nobody else knew how to drive faster.

He had on only his pyjama shorts, this sultry summer had lasted a fortnight forecast ahead; more heat pressing against skin making breath staggered. Texan gripped his tanned arm until there were pressure marks forming under his thumbs, he hadn’t time to gather his shoes or any other item of clothing. The sun was rippling across his legs and scolding his bare feet, the dirt track smouldering into clouds of ruby evaporation. But the heat of the sun and the lashing wind, spraying more warmth onto his body was nothing but an afterthought. Texan was a man who was used to searching; he spent his lifetime looking for things in the distance. His truck as a compass; all they had now was their footprints.

“ANA! I’ve brought you your bargaining tool!”

Then he flung his body out into the middle of the road, a flippant throw; that of a child who is fed up with his toys, angry that a rag doll cannot deliver its promise of life.

“You’ll have to run into your brandished steal of honour or watch him see his ungrateful bitch of a mother, deserting us.”

Shayne was paralysed by two emotions; one- the fear rising throughout the width of his body, two the sight of his mother’s face in her car speeding towards them. She has been born with the gift of light, a natural warmth as a child Shayne had marvelled at her firefly smile. The way the warmth of her face, the dimples running across her cheeks- lost in her sapphire eyes, their pools of kindness. But right now he could not tell whether his memory was a dream because there was no trace of this women on her portrait, his mother
had gone.

The car pulled to a stop, twisted to his side, not near enough to even push the choking sand storm into his lungs. His mother had been crying, this was obvious now she was close, red semi circles clung to the bottom of her eyelids, the pupils colour blurred like a grey flower, a shadow of the former navy iris’s. She didn’t scream or raise her voice, titled her face towards Shayne, catching sun rays on her cheek. Raised her hands and signalled for him to move closer, to climb into her cool leather seats and bury his weeping face into the warmth of her belly.

He moved without thinking, instantly towards his mother. But the burning glare from Texan burnt the back of his head, he twisted his face back to his father, felt a burning pang of pity.

“Brass!”

He faced towards him,

“Dad, please. Don’t come too close you’re scaring mum!

“She’s heartless Brass, she doesn’t know how to fear, how to love, she knows nothing but ungratefulness. I built her a home from scratch, gave her everything she ever wanted, two beautiful children! And the ungrateful son of a bitch has left me with nothing but a shell for a house. You’re the last precious thing left in this house and I will not let you leave me. Not without a bullet through the back of your head!”