Fly On
Who: Shane Prescott (seven-years old) and Nick Prescott (three years old)
Where: Prescott Home
When: Afternoon, In the Past
What: Shane decides to make do with what they have, while playing with Nicky.
Shane imitated the wrong sound of an airplane, a type of transportation off the tv, with his arms stretched out and Nick attached to his back. He could only do it briefly, since he wasn't very strong. The second time he rounded a circle, his little hands hung up, underneath his little brother's legs.
He ran, or "flew", out of the circle and took Nicky throughout their small house. Shane had no idea what Nicky saw as he ran through the house as his own makeshift airplane. Where he was sitting in the seats "the rich people sit in", according to Shane. They managed to pass Jameson and Cooper. Shane made a face at them to appease Nicky, then continued to fly on.
He circled the living room two more times, still imitating the sound of a car, then stopped and lowered Nicky. He inhaled and exhaled as he looked to the kitchen to see their mother wasn't bothering to pay attention to either of them. Just looking elsewhere. Distracted."Ma?" No answer, but clearly heard. Afraid Nicky would notice, Shane continued to play with him, when no one else would.
- - - - -
"Stupid...stupid...stupid..." Shane repeated over and over as he kept clicking through channels, with Nicky sitting beside him. Shane's feet nearly reaching the ground, and Nicky's swinging against the couch. He suddenly found a channel he thought Nicky liked, and kept it there. Even though Shane didn't care for whatever he was looking at.
"Come on Nicky..." he started, picking him up."You know you can't see the screen as good over there then here-geez, you're heavy!" He plomped him down, between his legs. Shane rested his chin on his head, like he liked to do, as the images across the screen reflected in his eyes.
- - - - -
As their mother worked on something, Shane didn't know what for, he made a peanut butter and jelly sandwich for he and Nicky. One half went to Nicky, the other himself. While eating, Shane tried to play tick-tack-toe with him. Next rock-paper-scissors. Then, of coarse, some game that consisted of finger guns because one day Shane was going to own "the best guns in the world and shoot" and become some professional gunslinger. Or something like the guys on the streets are.
Shane spent the rest of the day playing with Nicky, trying to block all the bad out from the rest of the world. From the neighborhood. From their home, so Nicky could be happy. Laying in his bed that night, he knew Nicky would know, one day. Understand all of this, if he hadn't already. And that promise to always protect him, Shane would always keep him safe, somehow. Always.
All that mattered was family and no one else.
He'd never turn his back on Nicky.
He'd never break that promise.
Never.
But what if he did?
