August

It was midnight, and I couldn't sleep. It was midnight and there was no good food in the fridge. It was midnight and I was lonely. So, trying not to wake anyone I settled down on a lawn chair in our backyard. The weather was colder, but I didn't mind, besides, there was nothing good on this late of night anyway. I was just starting to feel a bit of sleep come to the back of my eyes when there was a quiet shaking sound… like a spray paint can. As soon as the noise started it ended, but only to be replace with a big crash from the other side of the fence.

The sound wasn't the neighbors dog, but bigger. Almost human, and it sounded like more then one. Getting up as quickly as I could I turned on the porch light. This in turn made my dad wake up and come down with a baseball bat.

"Brendon? What are you doing?" He asked loosening his grip. I stood tense against the wall, my hand still on the light switch.

"I couldn't sleep- there's someone over there." I pointed to the fence. He took a step towards the area and glanced back at me, "I'll get the phone…" I mumbled nervously as I walked in and retrieved the phone from around the corner.

When I got back my father had opened up the gate on the fence and was shocked to see a beaten body on the muddy ground. With the phone shoved between my chin and shoulder I called the police while pacing in a circle. They arrived within minutes, luckily without the lights. Shortly after review of the situation an ambulance was called in. I couldn't tell who it was because it was so dark and they were so badly beaten up. The officer wouldn't tell me what their license said either.

Half and hour later and after talking to the officers they left. Then with one more sigh my dad turned to me and I felt a twinge of guilt fall over me, he had been here all along and I never really talked to him. He gave me a weak smile and lead me inside, we both sat at the kitchen table (with much protest from my back).

"That was quite a scare, I'm glad none of us got hurt." He paused and stood in the middle of our kitchen, "Couldn't sleep again?" My dad asked casually as he got back up to look through our pantry.

"Yeah…" I answered and frowned because I now has just found out how loud I really was. Usually I'd try to listen to music or I'd just walk around but, well, guess not anymore.

"Someone has to stay up with you." He bent down and set the oven for 400 and grabbed a baking sheet from the cabinets above, "How about some of those cut out cookies?"

"Mom, doesn't let you buy those anymore." I said almost feeling a chuckle coming on.

"Buh," he stood up straight with his slightly puggie gut sticking straight out and shrugged, "She doesn't need to know." Now, I had to laugh a little at this one, my dad smiled back and began placing twelve little pieces of dough on the cookie sheets.

"Hey… can I ask you something?"

"Sure Bear," He replied sticking out his lip similarly like I did.

"Have Kayla and Ben said anything to you about me?"

"Aren't we a gossip queen," I rolled my eyes and smiled, "Not really no. Well- what do you mean?"

"Dad, they hate me. That's what I'm saying."

"Ah, trust me Kayla and B don't hate you." He turned and started fidgeting with the towel on the edge of the sink, I looked at him with disbelief, "Don't doubt me on this one-"

"There's nothing to prove they don't-"

"Calm down, I was just getting to my explanation," He held up a finger and regrouped for a moment, "The night you went to try to straighten things out with Ryan she cried. Kay thought we'd left too, that little girl sobbed, Bren. We asked if she needed anything and she shut the door. You're both teenagers, you know."

I gulped down saliva, it was Kayla that used to tell me everything. I used to tell her everything too. She didn't even know about Ryan and I until after the fact and the last time she told me anything was about a secret boyfriend she had. For a little sister we were actually really close. Signs and habits one is so oblivious to at times of chaos. I've had lots of things like this pointed out to me recently.

"Ben, he's a different subject. He's been better at hiding it, but I still see him following you sometimes and watching you."

Then there was Ben. He has always been the little brother that wanted to do everything with me. Benjamin, the follower of me and now the plain observer of me. I guess it could be considered watching me to make sure I was doing fine. Man, it sucks being the oldest brother.

"Ok… but Dad?" I placed my hands in my lap and held my head down praying he didn't hear me.

"Hm?" The few questions I still had were bumping into each other in my head and I felt a little dizzy picking which one to ask first.

"How come mom and you love me then?" he opened his mouth to answer when I went off and corrected my question, "I mean, you guys are strict and- I'm gay."

"Yeah, you're our child. We love you no matter what." My dad stepped forward and sat in the chair adjacent to mine, "And we never made it so we were strict. You just assumed that we were, don't let the Mormon scare you." I leaned back a little and snorted, "I've never told you the stories from my high school days. Let me tell you what Grandpa did to me when he found out some of those… that's strict."

"Oh Lord."

"Betty Connors, now she was a stunner… but not exactly a bright one. And the drive-in every Friday..." He was reminiscing when the timer went off, my dad snapped out of it and went to check on the cookies, "Then there was the time I stuck bologna on someone's car and it ate the paint away. Now, that was a good prank."

"Wow, you really weren't strict. You just knew what I might be doing." I said rather blandly as he tinkered with the cookies and got them onto a cooling rack, "What I still don't understand though, is- how do you still call me as your son?"

My dad froze and I started trying to find something to mess with under the table. He turned around still thinking and then chewed on his tongue. Soon I felt a trickle down my cheek.

"Bren, you'll always be my boy. You didn't ask for this," this seemed to be everyone's excuse for taking the news, "No matter what happens to you, your mother and I love you. And I've never thought of you as feminine at all. Besides, half of my good looks went to you." He gave a forced smile. Then walking over to me with a cookie and glass of milk he set it down on the table and squeezed my shoulder lightly, "Well, I have work tomorrow. Hope you don't mind if mind me going to bed?"

"Not at all." I tried to hide the misery still in the grains of my face. Although the time he did stay up with me was worth it and quiet comforting.

"Goodnight, son."