Wanted
6
He had needed to tell someone for a long time, and Ridley knew that, he knew how big this secret was. Why had he not told someone sooner, why had he waited this long? Maybe this had been the reason he has wanted independence. Maybe he was scared for his family, maybe the only way to overcome his fears had been to hide from them, to move away from them. Thinking back, nothing about Cedar was the same since he had moved away from his parents, he had changed almost completely. He had still been smart, he had still had am attitude and he had still read books, with all that granted, he had never dressed so extreme. Music had never been a big part of his life.
He was changing his looks.
Changing himself.
Ridley sat on the stairs not hearing anything, not seeing anything. Everything was blank, nothing existed, no one was there. The world revolved around one thing now. This utter bombshell his brother had thrown upon him. And what was he to do with it? He’d been told to tell no one, not in so many words, but that much had been clear. He couldn’t risk this. That email had very much been a warning, this man was not one you messed with. Ridley knew he was not supposed to know what he has been told. Cedar had clearly been under strict instructions to keep his mouth shut. So telling anyone was strictly forbidden, but how could he just keep this one quiet.
He couldn’t.
What would one person knowing do? Cedar need never know he told anyone. One call, and everything would feel better again. He couldn’t. The hand grasped him again as he reached for the phone. That would be the end of his brother, he knew that. No, he had to keep this one to himself. It wasn’t for them to know, hell it wasn’t for him to know. Besides what would he expect to happen from calling his mother? Her not to call the police? That was madness, he told his mother and the entire state would know about it, that much was guaranteed. Cedar would do well to be in protection, but the world knew that would not be enough.
Ridley stood and entered the kitchen taking a glass he fumbled for the whiskey, pouring a quarter of the glass and drinking it stiff.
“You think that’ll help?”
“It’ll relax me.”
“Yeah.” Cedar walked quietly, as he always did, to the refrigerator opening it fishing out a
bottle of Mountain Dew he had hidden earlier. It took him less than two minutes to down what must have been two thirds, if not the whole, bottle. “You need to stay sober. For a start, you’re not Norman.”
Ridley almost froze. How did Cedar know his father? Then the answer came to him, they had the same mother. Besides, if a boy knew Hendrick Alinson, you can be certain he also knew every half hearted criminal and gangster to back that up. You don’t just know one without knowing them all. One thing can be known about people like that, once you’re involved, they make it hard, if not impossible, to leave. They take precautions, in case your hand slips when you have a gun, they make sure, someone else’s hand can slip. Norman Chaucer was probably a simple minion in Cedar’s eyes, that was indeed if he had ever met the man which Ridley would bet his life his mother had verbally assaulted in front of her new family.
No complaints about that, the man deserved it.
“You’re right, I need to be sober. I’m not an asshole.”
“Whoa, I didn’t say that. You’re just not that asshole.” They both chuckled, for once when they met eye contact they held it. Smiling. This moment was one of those which could be described as only one thing.
Truly rare.
Would it have been classed as wrong for Ridley to have admitted that he enjoyed it? He didn’t care, call him gay, call him emotional, hell call him feminine and strip him of his masculinity, there was one thing for certain, he was simply happy to have been sharing this moment with his brother, both smiling, both, for once, in agreement over something. Ridley’s dad was indeed, the ultimate asshole.
“Cedar?”
“Mhm?”
“Have you met my father?”
“I don’t need to. I know he’s an asshole.”
“My mother?”
“Is rather descriptive with what she thinks of him, and should happen to him for that matter.”
Ridley smiled, his mother, unlike him, had never been one to hold back her feeling about someone, or something, not even in front of her children. When Ridley thought of it, his father had not been one to hold back on his thoughts either, he wondered where he had inherited it from, and then the thought went. He didn’t need to know. Ridley looked over at the empty space where his brother had stood a moment ago, following him out of the room they entered the living room sitting on the sofa, Ridley switched to his brothers favourite channel, the news, the watched in silence until one story came on, then the room froze, something died, Mrs Anderson of 54 Summerton Close had been found dead. The colour drained from Ridley’s face before his brothers, the glass hitting the floor as his grip went lame and broke. So lost in the story, Ridley failed to hear the front door slam closed and his car engine start. He was frozen to the spot.
He was changing his looks.
Changing himself.
Ridley sat on the stairs not hearing anything, not seeing anything. Everything was blank, nothing existed, no one was there. The world revolved around one thing now. This utter bombshell his brother had thrown upon him. And what was he to do with it? He’d been told to tell no one, not in so many words, but that much had been clear. He couldn’t risk this. That email had very much been a warning, this man was not one you messed with. Ridley knew he was not supposed to know what he has been told. Cedar had clearly been under strict instructions to keep his mouth shut. So telling anyone was strictly forbidden, but how could he just keep this one quiet.
He couldn’t.
What would one person knowing do? Cedar need never know he told anyone. One call, and everything would feel better again. He couldn’t. The hand grasped him again as he reached for the phone. That would be the end of his brother, he knew that. No, he had to keep this one to himself. It wasn’t for them to know, hell it wasn’t for him to know. Besides what would he expect to happen from calling his mother? Her not to call the police? That was madness, he told his mother and the entire state would know about it, that much was guaranteed. Cedar would do well to be in protection, but the world knew that would not be enough.
Ridley stood and entered the kitchen taking a glass he fumbled for the whiskey, pouring a quarter of the glass and drinking it stiff.
“You think that’ll help?”
“It’ll relax me.”
“Yeah.” Cedar walked quietly, as he always did, to the refrigerator opening it fishing out a
bottle of Mountain Dew he had hidden earlier. It took him less than two minutes to down what must have been two thirds, if not the whole, bottle. “You need to stay sober. For a start, you’re not Norman.”
Ridley almost froze. How did Cedar know his father? Then the answer came to him, they had the same mother. Besides, if a boy knew Hendrick Alinson, you can be certain he also knew every half hearted criminal and gangster to back that up. You don’t just know one without knowing them all. One thing can be known about people like that, once you’re involved, they make it hard, if not impossible, to leave. They take precautions, in case your hand slips when you have a gun, they make sure, someone else’s hand can slip. Norman Chaucer was probably a simple minion in Cedar’s eyes, that was indeed if he had ever met the man which Ridley would bet his life his mother had verbally assaulted in front of her new family.
No complaints about that, the man deserved it.
“You’re right, I need to be sober. I’m not an asshole.”
“Whoa, I didn’t say that. You’re just not that asshole.” They both chuckled, for once when they met eye contact they held it. Smiling. This moment was one of those which could be described as only one thing.
Truly rare.
Would it have been classed as wrong for Ridley to have admitted that he enjoyed it? He didn’t care, call him gay, call him emotional, hell call him feminine and strip him of his masculinity, there was one thing for certain, he was simply happy to have been sharing this moment with his brother, both smiling, both, for once, in agreement over something. Ridley’s dad was indeed, the ultimate asshole.
“Cedar?”
“Mhm?”
“Have you met my father?”
“I don’t need to. I know he’s an asshole.”
“My mother?”
“Is rather descriptive with what she thinks of him, and should happen to him for that matter.”
Ridley smiled, his mother, unlike him, had never been one to hold back her feeling about someone, or something, not even in front of her children. When Ridley thought of it, his father had not been one to hold back on his thoughts either, he wondered where he had inherited it from, and then the thought went. He didn’t need to know. Ridley looked over at the empty space where his brother had stood a moment ago, following him out of the room they entered the living room sitting on the sofa, Ridley switched to his brothers favourite channel, the news, the watched in silence until one story came on, then the room froze, something died, Mrs Anderson of 54 Summerton Close had been found dead. The colour drained from Ridley’s face before his brothers, the glass hitting the floor as his grip went lame and broke. So lost in the story, Ridley failed to hear the front door slam closed and his car engine start. He was frozen to the spot.