Blood Brothers

I finally left after several hours. It was actually an hour before my shift was over, but I couldn’t stand it anymore, and no one else was there to stop me. I locked the door behind me and set off down the street, though occasionally I had to pause to rub my eyes with one hand. I had been scouring endless lines of tiny print for too long. I remembered I had to work the next day, despite it being Sunday, and groaned. Our supervisor would be there, and if I didn’t want to be fired, I would have to be there a solid half hour early and leave an hour late.

The sound of footsteps clicking on the rain-soaked sidewalk broke through my dismal thoughts. I looked up and saw Ms. Way approaching me, greeting me with the usual single nod. I turned the other way and fell into step next to her.

“Coffee?”

“Sure.”

We slowly walked to the nearest coffee shop, neither of us speaking. I felt her eyes on me, and I knew she was expecting me to explain, but I wanted to wait. She was intimidating in spite of her appearance; I needed something else to distract my attention from her naturally accusing eyes. Soon enough, I was seated across from her, warming my hands around a steaming cup of coffee and trying to ward off the oncoming chill of fall.

“So…” I started. The words in my mind refused to make themselves known. I stalled by taking a sip of the coffee, ignoring the fact that it was scalding hot. “I, uh…I see you have a new job-”

“Who told you that?” she asked abruptly. I remained silent in thought. I couldn’t tell her I had been following her around. Even if she wouldn’t report me to the police, as I knew so many paranoid people would, at the very least I would lose a friend.

“Word travels fast,” I mumbled, staring intently at the surface of the table. She sighed.

“It doesn’t matter to me, but Mrs. Iero would prefer that no one knew.” I looked up at her, frowning.

“Why?”

“I think she’s ashamed of me, honestly,” she said with a small shrug. “But she thinks she’s doing me a great service by letting me work for her. Perhaps she is.” I felt anger begin to bubble up inside me. It was completely unfair for her to be treated like that, and no one stopped long enough to do anything about it. I wished there was something more I could do, but I was only a struggling college student with a job I didn’t plan on keeping for much longer. There was nothing I could do.

My next question left my mouth before I could stop it.

“How much is she paying you?”

She paused for several seconds, thinking.

“I think after all the math is done…around $310 a week.” I was shocked. With as much money as the Ieros had, they could easily have afforded to double that number. I opened my mouth to speak, but she held up a hand to stop me. “And I’m not complaining. It’s good money.” It wasn’t, but I decided not to disagree with her.
-
Sure enough, when I arrived at work the next morning – half an hour early, as planned – most of the staff was already present and furiously writing away. I hesitantly entered the first floor of the building and tried to make my way to my desk, but I found two people blocking my path.

“You’re late, Bryar,” said the one on the left, my boss. My eyes widened.

“I’m not late! I’m early!” I protested.

“This is the one I was telling you about,” he continued, speaking to the other man as if I wasn’t even there. I took the chance to study him. He was taller than me, though not by much. His eyes were a shade of brown, and he was ignoring me completely, not smiling at all.

“You mean your editor?” he asked. Without giving my boss a chance to answer, he turned his attention to me. “It’s nice to meet you, Robert.” He shook my hand, nearly ripping my arm off in the process. I decided not to correct him.

“This is Brian Schecter, your supervisor…and your new boss,” my current employer said to me. I couldn’t decide if it was an improvement or not.

“Nice to meet you too,” I said with as little fear as possible in my voice. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a lot of work to do.” I tried to sidestep them, but Brian stopped me.

“Just don’t be late again and we won’t have any problems,” he said, looking me directly in the eyes. I swallowed nervously and walked towards my desk, seeing the equivalent of three novels neatly resting atop the wooden surface. Wonderful.

Not much time had passed before I found him looking over my shoulder, carefully studying my work. I did my best to ignore it…until he began searching through my desk.

“What are you doing?” I asked, glancing up at him with a confused look. He was holding several smaller pieces of paper in his muscular hands and scanning them quickly.

“You write poetry?” he questioned, flashing a disturbing half-smile. I shrugged, trying to make it seem like it didn’t matter, but I was quickly growing uncomfortable under his gaze.

“When I feel like it,” I responded nonchalantly, turning back to my work.

“Ever think about getting any published?” he continued. I shook my head right away.

“No, it’s not really what I want to do with my life,” I said. He sighed and released the small pile of papers, allowing them to flutter down to the floor as if destroying something I found important. I just ignored them all. I had no skill with poetry and I recognized that. It was more of a hobby, a stress-reliever for me. I secretly hoped he hadn’t read through any of them too carefully. Most of them were about how much I hated my job.
-
I decided to check up on Ms. Way again before I went home. I took a shorter route to the Iero house and returned to my previous spot on the side of the house, vanishing into the shadows so no one on the street could see me unless they looked carefully. The darkened sky above helped immensely, though I worried that if it rained, Mrs. Iero would be inclined to close the window. Best case scenario, she wouldn’t notice me and I would simply have a more difficult time hearing their conversation. More likely, though, she would call the police.

The unmistakable sound of the heavy wooden front door opening startled me out of my train of thought. I glanced at the front entryway, catching sight of my reflection in the partially open window. My eyes seemed more gray than usual due to the changed light. My face seemed paler as well, almost ghostlike. I disliked it, but I also knew it was only temporary.

“Hello, Mrs. Way, how are you?” Mrs. Iero’s cheerful voice called from atop the stairs. I heard her heels click against the marble as she descended to the ground floor. She received no response from Ms. Way. I could just barely see the older woman’s face from where I stood. She seemed more ashen-faced than usual. I knew it couldn’t just be the strange lighting of the silver clouds above me. “Mrs. Way? Anything wrong?”

Ms. Way sighed solemnly. “I had it all worked out. With one more baby we could have managed, but not with two. The welfare’ve been on to me already.” Two? Oh no.

“Twins? You’re expecting twins?” Mrs. Iero asked slowly. Ms. Way nodded grimly. Mrs. Iero seemed to be staring a hole in the wall. I’d seen that look before. She had a plan, and she was determined to bring it to life. A sudden light brightened in her eyes.

“Give one to me,” she said slowly. “Please, Mrs. Way. Please.”

“Are you…are you that desperateto have a baby?” Ms. Way asked, floored completely. I was fairly shocked myself. This woman already had almost nothing. It would be criminal to take a child away from her. Remaining silent, I continued to watch the scene. Mrs. Iero had a strange, faraway look in her eyes.

“You don’t understand what it’s like for me,” she began. I rolled my eyes. She was the last person to be speaking like that. “I’ve always imagined what it would be like to have a son. I would give anything to have the sound of children’s footsteps echoing around me.”

“They’re troublesome,” Ms. Way said quickly, too quickly. “They get into everything and cause problems all the time.”

“You don’t mean that,” Mrs. Iero returned quietly. She seemed uncertain of her answer, however, which served to slightly settle my nerves. I could see the fear overpowering Ms. Way. I thought I saw her shiver once, but it could have been my imagination. Mrs. Iero continued speaking, almost to herself at first. “My husband wouldn’t have to know…and I could’ve gotten pregnant just before he left. How far along are you, Ms. Way?” she asked abruptly.

“…Four months,” she replied after some thought.

“See? You’re four months pregnant, and only just beginning to show.” She suddenly removed her thin sweater and packed it into a ball, stuffing it beneath her own shirt. “Now, I’m four months along, and I’m just beginning to show!” It sounded ridiculous to me. Impossible. Ms. Way didn’t seem thrilled, but I had learned not to accept anything about her simply based on appearance.

“If…if my child was raised here,” she said slowly and uncertainly, “he’d never get into trouble, would he?” Mrs. Iero shook her head. “And he’d never have to worry about his next meal, either…” She looked off into the distance, deep in thought.

“He’d have all his own toys,” Mrs. Iero reassured her. I was disgusted, but I could hardly run into the room and stop the scene from unfolding. I would likely be arrested.

“I’d love to be the one to give him something like that,” Ms. Way admitted. She sighed sadly. “I’d still be able to see him every day, wouldn’t I?” she asked.

“Oh, yes, of course you would.”

“And you would look after him, wouldn’t you?” she questioned quietly. Her voice was growing fainter with each word. Her shoulders slumped even more than usual. She had been defeated.

Mrs. Iero, meanwhile, nodded with a huge smile. She loved the idea. Suddenly, though, her face turned serious. She walked over to the nearby bookcase and pulled a black leather-bound book from its place – crammed in between countless classic novels, I was certain – and carried it over towards Ms. Way, placing it on the table right where the offending shoes had rested.

“Mrs. Way, we must make this a binding agreement,” she said darkly, opening the cover to a page marked by a golden ribbon and placing her hand on the left page. A sickening feeling crept into my stomach. And suddenly I could handle no more.

I took off running down the sidewalk. I had to get away from it. A flickering sign caught my eye as I sprinted towards my apartment. I did my best to ignore the fact that the black letters of the sign spelled POLICE against the ivory light behind them.

Several minutes later I slowed to a jarring walk, satisfied that I was far enough away from such a horrible act. I fumbled for my keys in one pocket, eventually finding the one to open the door. I managed to calm down once I was inside the dull-colored domicile, but only after I was seated at the kitchen counter with a mug of hot chocolate next to me. It was the only thing that ever calmed me down.

Finding a half-shredded letter nearby, I searched around for a pen. I finally discovered a forgotten one that had rolled against the wall, caught in the crevice between the pale wall and the dark beige carpet. I returned to my spot and began to write, ignoring every spelling and grammar error I made. If I cared enough, I would go back and fix it later. For the moment I just needed to write.

In the name of Jesus, the thing was done.
Now there’s no going back for anyone.
It’s too late now for feeling torn.
There’s a pact been sealed; there’s a deal been born.