The Serophim Breach (The Serophim Breach Series) (4 page)

That morning, Lani had pulled her unwashed hair into two short, spiky pigtails; the look was not flattering on her round face, but Sarah knew she thought it made her look older. They were both fifteen, but Lani was only a few months away from her sweet sixteen, so she had recently begun to shove her body into shorter shorts and tighter tank tops, teetering around on wedge heels. Sarah was relieved that she had shown up last night in her pajamas; she knew her brothers would not have been able to resist a few jokes at Lani’s expense otherwise.

The ceiling creaked as Paul rolled out of bed and headed for the family’s only restroom. Sarah glanced at the clock and made a mental note to tell Kai she had won the bet. It was well past noon, and Kai had guessed Paul would be up by eleven thirty. Briefly, she considered changing the channel before her brother stumbled downstairs, but “the biggest performance of the night” had just been promised, and Paul wouldn’t care what she watched. Next to her, Lani pulled a drumstick from the bucket of cold chicken she had retrieved from the fridge for breakfast and began picking at the skin.

“Paul’s getting up,” Sarah said quietly.

Lani shrugged like it didn’t matter, but Sarah saw her turn the container so that the name, scrawled in black Sharpie on the bucket, faced her.

Her brother appeared at the bottom of the stairs, unshowered and unshaven. After tightening her pigtails, Lani adjusted her pajamas so that her considerable chest was unavoidable. Sarah rolled her eyes; Paul’s mop of dark hair, clear blue eyes, and constant smirk made him the object of most of her friends’ young affections. She was secretly fiercely protective of him. To her, Kai was more of a father figure than a sibling, and Brandon was a relative stranger. When people asked her how many brothers she had, she always said three, but always felt one.

Paul was out in the kitchen rummaging through the fridge, and Sarah tried not to smile. She was not surprised when he appeared in the doorway wearing the same board shorts as the day before and a T-shirt with the sleeves cut off. He leaned against the doorjamb.

“Hey, Sarah.” He turned his head slightly, deliberately, to glare at Lani. “Hey,
Paul
,” he continued pointedly.

Lani looked up, confused, as Sarah stifled a laugh.

Screwing up her nose, Lani asked, “What?”

Paul made a face of mock embarrassment.

“Oh, sorry . . . I got confused, because that container you’re eating out of says ‘PAUL,’” he said, pointing at the chicken.

“Go away, Paul,” Sarah said, trying to keep the smile out of her voice. She turned up the TV a few notches.

“Yeah, Paul, go away,” he said to Lani.

Sarah couldn’t help but laugh, and she instantly felt Lani begin to pout.

“How come you’re such an ass to me whenever I come over here?” Lani whined.

He looked down at the floor and started scuffing his bare foot along the carpet. “Because . . . I have a big, humongous crush on you. A huge, fat, all-consuming—”

Sarah turned the TV up full blast and gave her brother a look. “You’re being annoying,” she said loudly.

He pointed to the chicken again and said, “You owe me a bucket of chicken.”

Lani balked. “I didn’t eat all of it. There’s twelve pieces.”

Sarah broke in again. “Lani, ignore him.”

She looked up at her brother and smiled her sweetest smile. “Dad says you have to clean the garage.”

Paul let his head fall back on his shoulders and heaved a huge sigh. Just as he began to protest, they heard a car pull into the driveway. Sitting up quickly, Sarah changed the channel to a home design show and ignored Lani’s immediate complaining. A horn blasted, and Paul perked up.

“Gotta go.”

Stepping forward, he deftly snatched the bucket of chicken from Lani’s lap, then hoisted his surfboard up from the floor, where he had left it the night before. He screwed up his face as he changed his grip on the bucket, holding it gingerly by the edge.

“It’s all greasy, Lani. Gross.”

Sarah heaved her pillow at him and shouted halfheartedly, “Get out!”

He grinned at them and said, “Later! And open a window; it smells like crap in here.”

“You smell like crap,” she retorted.

Outside, a burly red pickup truck scraped to a stop in the gravel driveway, Paul’s friends whooping from both the cab and the bed. Sarah watched him trot down the front steps, then turn to look up at her to mouth “lock the door” and wave before heading for the truck and tossing his surfboard into the back, where Jones stood bent over at the waist, pretending to talk with his butt cheeks. He hollered, “Eight-foot swells, bitch!” as he moved his backside with his hands.

She watched her brother leap into the truck bed as Greg turned the truck around, peeling out and kicking up dust and gravel. The oversize tires left deep ruts in the driveway, and she thought briefly that Paul would have to fill those in before Dad got home. They pulled out onto the road, narrowly missing a jogger who emerged from behind the banana plants blocking the south side of the driveway. She could see Paul wave an apology, but the jogger didn’t seem fazed. In fact, he seemed grateful for the break as he stumbled to a stop. Overweight and out of breath, he stood bent over at the waist for a few seconds, and then put the heels of his hands to his eyes, working hard to catch his breath. Sarah slid back down to the floor and put the VMAs back on.

Lani gasped. “Oh my God; Britney looks so fat.”

~

Kai pulled the truck into the Lee’s Feed lot, hitting the speed bump slightly too fast. Brandon jerked awake, his eyes red and caked with sleep. He looked around, dazed, as they pulled into a parking spot and Kai slid out of the vehicle.

“Dad needs us to pick up a few things,” Kai told him.

He strode through the front door, with Brandon trailing behind him, and headed for the closest aisle. Snatching up a small basket, he waited until he could feel his brother close behind him before he spoke up.

“How much longer are you going to call Dad ‘Gary’?” he asked.

Brandon sounded genuinely confused as he asked, “What else do you want me to call him?”

Kai was not prepared for the question. “I was thinking ‘Dad.’ Calling him ‘Gary’ sounds retarded.”

Brandon was quiet for a moment, and Kai fought back his frustration. He had envisioned his brother becoming defensive or embarrassed, but the tone of innocence he had taken instead put Kai’s hackles up.

“Okay. I didn’t realize it was a big deal,” his brother finally responded.

“Well, it is.”

Kai took a few long steps forward to put some distance between Brandon and himself, knocking a few boxes of Morton Salt Licks into the basket. In his peripheral vision, he watched Brandon brush his hands over the inventory, his eyes down, lips tight. Kai had planned the conversation during the drive from the airport; he had thought of all the changes he could list for his brother, beginning with the way Brandon had walked out of baggage claim a few months earlier wearing stylishly distressed jeans and a button-down shirt. His hair had been meticulous as well, somewhere between a fifties pop star and the goofy pictures hanging on the walls at the local Supercuts. Lately Brandon had taken to wearing cutoff shorts and his high school water polo shirts. Only two weeks ago, after a prompt from his father to get a haircut, he had taken the clippers to his head. Kai had thought he was shaving until he emerged from the bathroom with less than an inch of hair.

“Is . . . Dad mad?” Brandon asked suddenly.

Kai shook his head. “He was just wondering if he had done something. Can you carry some of this?”

The metal handles were beginning to dig into his arm, and Brandon had just loaded a bag of soil on top of everything else. He lifted the basket slightly to demonstrate the weight, and Brandon hefted the soil back into his arms.

“Sorry,” he mumbled.

As they approached the back of the store, they saw Mike sitting behind the counter, a few small piles of cash sitting in front of him. His register was open, and he was flicking quarters from a bin into the palm of his hand, his lips moving slightly as he counted. He looked up as Kai approached, then back down to finish the pile. Once his hand was full and the bin empty, he dumped them all back and recorded a number onto a scrap sheet of lined yellow paper. Only then did he lean back, the tension fading from his forehead and a slow smile spreading across his face.

“Hello, boys,” he said.

Mike looked like he had aged since the last time they stopped by the shop. The silver hairs on his temples had spread around the sides of his head, almost meeting in the back, and his deeply tanned face had a few more lines set around the mouth. They disappeared as he unloaded their basket, relaxing into the same easy conversation they had been having for years.

“My dad told me our order came in,” said Kai. He took the bags of soil from Brandon, who stood mutely at his side, and set them on the counter.

“Sure did. I got it back here. Two crates of the chicken feed are on this afternoon’s truck, though. I’ll swing by and drop them off tonight.”

“Thanks, Mike.”

“Sure. You need anything else?”

“I think that’s it.”

Mike lapsed into small talk as he rang up the items on the counter. “Where’s Paul?”

Brandon spoke up for the first time and quipped, “Surfing or sleeping.”

Mike frowned. He was a firm believer in rising with the sun and putting in a hard day’s work, although he was known to make exceptions when the waves were particularly epic.

Kai elaborated, “Dad’s been assigning us days off lately. New tactic . . . he thinks it will make Paul work harder.” Mike broke into easy laughter, and the brothers grinned as well.

“Paul? Work harder?” said Mike. “That kid is island through and through. Can’t really blame him, though. Eight-foot swells today. I almost called in sick.”

He finished punching the totals into the register, and a quiet bell rang when he hit the total.

“One-oh-eight forty-two, boys.”

Kai fished through his pockets for the wad of bills his father had given him earlier in the day. He had been bracing himself for the total and was relieved that it was not more than they had allotted. He handed over the wad, and Mike slowly straightened them and set each in its appropriate pile. He cleared his throat a few times before speaking again.

“And, uh, Kai, . . . can you tell Gary I’m tapped out on credit? He’s going to have to start paying for shipments in full.” He kept his eyes focused on his hands, working hard to give the impression of a casual sidenote. Brandon shifted his weight, and Kai knew his brother was just as uncomfortable as he felt.

“Yeah, sure,” he said briskly. In the back of his mind, he logged the policy change away as one more issue to be concerned about when he had the time or any possible solutions.

Mike put all the bills back into the register, hoisted the crate behind the counter up on his shoulder, and headed for the door. Kai and Brandon followed with the rest of the supplies. Mike’s broad shoulders made it difficult for them to squeeze past as he held the door for them.

“So the old man’s headed to the mainland, huh?” he asked, trying to return to their familiar, easy conversation.

“Yup. Left this morning. Some agricultural conference he’s going to,” Kai answered. He heaved the supplies into the truck bed and climbed up to open the gate for Mike.

“I think he met someone,” they heard Brandon say.

Both Mike and Kai turned to look at him, shocked.

“Your dad?” Mike finally choked out.

“He’s on one of those online dating sites,” Brandon replied, shrugging.

Mike shook his head and chuckled. “Well, will wonders never cease? I didn’t know he knew how to use a computer.”

Kai was taking a bag of soil from Brandon’s arms when the front door of the shop opened again, and he caught sight of a wave of long hair. He sucked in a quick breath and straightened sharply, the muscles in his back protesting the suddenness of the motion. Heather leaned out, her long brown hair, thick with golden highlights, hanging like a curtain to the side of her face. She wore a white T-shirt, ratty jeans, and heavy work gloves. Kai thought she must have been out back with the animals while they had been in the store. He could feel the blood rising to his face as he realized he was standing with his mouth slightly agape.

“Dad, phone call for you,” she called, waving the phone in her hand. Dust fell from the gloves as she moved, creating a hazy glow around her.

Kai finally found his voice and called out, “Heather!” He waved lamely with his free hand, the bag of soil slipping suddenly from his grip. He was obliged to fumble with the heavy bag to keep it from going over the side of the truck.

She laughed and answered, “Hey, Kai!”

Mike was already jogging back toward the shop, reaching for the phone.

“See you tonight, boys!” he called over his shoulder. He took the phone from his daughter, who smiled at Kai and Brandon as she stepped back into the store. Kai remained standing on the tailgate, looking after her. As soon as the door shut completely, the heavy sinking feeling of foolishness crept into his stomach.

Heather had been one of the perks of staying on the island. His father’s long friendship with Mike meant that Kai could smile and wave when he passed her in the hallway at their high school, but it had taken him until his senior year to work up the courage to say more than three words to her. They had struck up an easy friendship, and he couldn’t believe his good fortune when she told him no one asked her to prom, suggesting they go together. They had spent every day of the next summer together, Kai knowing the whole time that she was leaving for college in California in a few short months. A few days before her move, he had told her he wanted her to be able to enjoy the next four years without him holding her back; she had cried and protested, but he had insisted. When she finally walked away, he felt as though a chunk of his chest had been ripped out.

She had come home after three years when her mother got sick; their reunion had been shy and awkward, but after a few months of seeing one another around the shop, the ice had melted away, and they had regained their old friendship. She confided in him about her feelings of obligation, and he encouraged her to finish her degree at the local university. At her graduation, she had kissed him lightly on the cheek, and he felt the old wound in his chest start to fill. He told himself he was satisfied seeing her at the shop; there was no way he deserved a second chance with her.