Threat

Dust the furniture.
Set up the tables.

It was Thanksgiving Day and everyone was busy somehow with preparations.

Right now, Sarah and I were in the kitchen – Sarah was baking cookies and since she was still a little kid, I had to check up on her every so often to make sure she wasn’t going to burn the house down.

“Micaaaaah! I’m fine! I can do this by myself!”
She crossed her arms over her chest with a pout on her lips as she stomped her foot in protest.

I held my hands up in defense, giving her a small smile.

“Okay, okay. I’ll leave you to it, Grand Master Chef Sarah.”
She gave me a sharp, slight nod, not changing her stance.

And that was my cue to get out of the fucking kitchen.

Tidy my room and Sarah’s room.
Set up the computer to the speakers for some music.

Everything seemed in order, so now I can just plop onto the couch and—

“Don’t even think about sitting down, Michael!”

Or not.

I turned to see Mom, standing with her arms crossed over her chest – what is up with our family and that stance?

“I need you to run to the store to get some things.”
“Such as…?”

She handed me a list – food trays, ‘fire in a can for heating’, plastic silverware and paper plates, a coconut cream cake and a red velvet cake…

“I doubt the Walmart down the street has this stuff right now.”
“That’s why you’re going to the one in Snellville.”

My eyes widened but she held up her hand before I could protest.

“It’s a ten to fifteen-minute drive; you’ll be fine.”
“Fine…”

She tossed me the keys to her car and gave me a large smile before leaving the room.

So much for taking a break.

| x | x | x |

“‘Welcome to Snellville, Georgia. Where everybody is glad to fuckin’ be somebody.’ I mean, we had Diana DeGarmo, who was runner up in American Idol that one time, so she sure as hell was a somebody.”

I couldn’t help but mock the city’s motto as I placed the trays into the cart.

When was the last time I was in this place?
Oh…

I just had to remember the time Tyler and I wreaked havoc in this exact Walmart years ago.
And I just had to smile like an idiot.

So many shopping cart races. So many thrown toilet paper rolls. So many penises drawn on various items.
And the escape for our lives as we were chased out by two cops.

I shook my head and laughed to myself as I made my way to the bakery, grabbing the desired cakes.

Tyler Carter and Michael Bohn: the Bonnie and Clyde of the city.

The smile I had begun to fade.

Things were so much simpler back then.

Tyler was happy; I was happy that he was happy.
We were inseparable.

And I didn’t have to worry about any of my feelings getting in the way of what we had.

But now…

I sighed, moving to grab the rest of the needed items, attempting to clear my head for just a second.

But it’s never any use when he’s constantly in my thoughts.

| x | x | x |

Glassware clattering. Loud conversation followed by the occasional laughter.
Various songs playing from the speakers.

Sounds like Thanksgiving all right.

Ms. Carter was getting along well with everyone – almost like she was always part of the family – and I grew less and less worried for her.

A long day of food and family, and it finally grew to a close.

Everyone helped to clean up before leaving – Sarah and Mom were exhausted and were already in bed, leaving Ms. Carter and I to finish washing the dishes that were used instead of the plates.

“So, how is my baby doing over in California?”

I tensed up, not knowing how I should answer her question.

“He’s fine…”

Lie.

“…I see.”

She stopped the water and turned to face me.

“What’s going on, Michael?”
“…What are you talking about?”

“Something is bothering you. I can tell. And I know it can’t be about anything else but Tyler. So, be honest with me.”

“Marcia…”
“His girlfriend?”

“It’s just…”
“You’re still jealous of her?”

My eyes widened at her statement.

“J-Jealous?”
“I know that you’re in love with him, Michael.”

“In love?”
“Don’t act stupid. I knew it from the moment he brought you home to introduce you.”

I bit down on my lip.

“You’re not angry with me…are you?”
“Puh-lease. You know your mom and I had a fling in high school. I am the last one to get angry about this.”

I brought my gaze to the floor, awkwardly scratching the back of my head.

“It’s more than jealousy, isn’t it?”
“…Marcia isn’t what I would call ‘relationship worthy’…”

“Stop beating around to bush and tell me straight up what needs to be said.”
“Marcia is an abusive, possessive, psycho bitch…!”

My body started to tremble.

“And Tyler…he won’t…!”

And the tears started to pour.

“He’s…He’s in an abusive relationship…?!”
I nodded.

“D-Dammit! I thought I raised him better than that…! I need to call him.”
“He won’t listen to us…he’s in a trap. A trap of constant threats…He won’t listen to anyone right now…”

She covered her hand over her mouth, masking the sobs that came from it.

“It was her idea to move him so far away, wasn’t it?”
“Yeah…”

“And yet…you moved all the way over there, just to make sure that he would be alright.”
I didn’t answer.

“I know you had your whole future planned out by the end of high school, Michael. California wasn’t anywhere in your mindset at the time until Tyler declared that Marcia and he were moving there.”

“Yeah. I know…”
She placed a hand onto my shoulder.

“I understand that he won’t listen to any of us right now, but…I’m trusting you to continue watching over my baby, understand?”
“Understood.”

She gave me a pat on the back before leaving the kitchen.

And at that moment, I remembered that Tyler hadn’t called me today like he said he would.

Pull out the phone.
Dial the number.

Wait.

“Hello?”
“Tyler?”

A moment of silence.

“Sorry…he’s unable to come to the phone right now.”
“The fuck do you mean he’s—give him the damn phone, Marcia!”

But she had already hung up.

I dialed the number again, only to have it go straight to voicemail.

I’ll be damned if I go to bed without hearing his voice through this phone.

Another attempt.

“Michael…”
“Tyler?!”

“Stop calling, okay…? It’s late at night; Marcia and I are trying to sleep…”

I bit down harshly on my lip, drawing blood.

“Before you go…”
“I’ll be fine, Micah…don’t worry, okay? I’ll be fine…”

I had to will myself not to cry again.

“…B-Be careful…okay?”
“Okay…”

A strained and tired response before hanging up.

I leant against the counter, pulling at my hair while trying to hold in tears.

Please, hang in there until I get back, Tyler.

Please…