The Rebel

Dylan-1

Dylan

Liam is not well. No matter how much he was fooling around all Sunday at his parents’, I could see that something was wrong. He won’t say it, we don’t normally cry on each other’s shoulders, and I couldn’t really put into words what is not right, but still. I know him, I saw how happy and well-balanced he was with Zoey, so I know he is in deep s**t. He keeps trying but can’t find his place. He is missing something, someone. It must feel like crap for people who are social animals like Liam Parker. He needs a partner, a companion, the big romance, and until he has it, he doesn’t feel complete. It’s all really bad, especially because for some reason I feel responsible for him.

It all started at school when I first fought with those little pricks who were f*****g with Liam. He was a thin loser, but he could man up. We were ten, and somehow, I felt I should stand up for him. I didn’t care if the older kids would slap me around, I was used to being beaten up. I think I wanted to protect him, at least him, if I couldn’t protect my sister and my mother at home. I could count on one hand how many people there are in this crappy world who mean something to me. Only the Parkers, and my sister Cat. Cat was barely ten when she was taken to our mother’s relatives in the US. When I lost her after mum, there was no one left but Liam. I think I feel some perverted need to see him in decent shape. If he is doing well, I feel good too. I try not to ponder too much about things like that, but when I do, I am think there must be a certain gene missing from me. The one that enables you to be really happy. I don’t have any problems, it’s not that. As a matter of fact, everything is great, I can get anything I want. I have an adopted family, there are girls, even more than I can handle, I run my own restaurant and I sail whenever I feel like it. I don’t lack anything. But the kind of deep joy and perfect contentment I saw on my brother’s face while he was Zoey’s husband, I have never experienced. I’ve seen it on others, I can give it a name, but I can’t feel its taste. It’s like to discuss shagging with a Carthusian monk. He might nod along but doesn’t have a damn idea how it feels.

If a casual shag would improve Liam’s state, then he would be the happiest guy in the world, because I could arrange it for him in five minutes. There are dozens of girls I could call and they would be pleased to lower their panties, but this Parker kid is a bit more complicated. That’s something I’ve learned in the past twenty years. I didn’t go to buy a bed with him the other day, because it would have been a bit kinky, even though I knew what was in the background. He wanted to get rid of the old one, because it reminds him of the past. Zoey and their life together, and that’s good. I mean, it’s good that he wants to put an end to it. I won’t say I wouldn’t have been able to join him when he was buying a bed, but I thought this closure kind of s**t should be done privately. At least, I would definitely do it alone. If there was anything to put an end to, that is.

My point is, I called Mrs. P today to ask if the Greenhaven holiday house was free the weekend. I’ll go with Liam, and have a real men’s weekend with booze, food, women, if there is a chance for it. I’m open for anything. We are going to surf and carry on, like before. Like when everything was still all right. When Liam still wore a genuine smile in his face.

＊

“What? Tonight?” he asks with wonder, on the phone.

“Why? Are you going on a date, or what?” I’m teasing him, because I know he doesn’t have a date: “You can bring your chick too, I don’t mind. I promise I’ll be good to her.”

“f**k it, Dylan,” he laughs out, but I can tell from his voice that he’s not angry. We’ve been planning something like this for a while, but it’s been such a madhouse at the restaurant lately that I couldn’t get away from a whole weekend. Well, it’s still quite a hassle, but I don’t give a damn. They should be okay without me for two days. “I have no idea if the house is available. My mother may have—"

“It’s all settled,” I put him at ease. “I’ve talked to her. The beach house is empty at the moment. It’s only up to you. If you say so, we’ll go. I’ll pick you up at five at the clinic, and off we go.”

“I’m working until 5, it’s not good.”

“What’s not good? I don’t get it,” I look at the phone’s display, as if it had an answer to why he is messing about.

“I still have to go home for my stuff.”

Oh God. What a complicated guy – I roll my eyes while laughing inside, because I know him so well.

“What? Can you not leave your home without your little purse?”

“Shut up. Not everybody is as unkempt as you.”

“All right, you wuss. You tell me then, when I should pick you up.”

“Five thirty at Ormonde Terrace,” he mumbles, but I can hear he’s also sniggering.

＊

We’ve been on the road for three hours, and we still have about one-and-a-half ahead. Maybe one, if we press the gas pedal. In the meantime, evening has fallen, traffic is getting thin as we are progressing east. Liam could find Greenhaven with his eyes closed, he has been here so many times, but I can’t complain either. When we were kids, the Parkers brought me here a lot when they were going on holiday. I guess, they pitied me. They know I wouldn’t have another opportunity to leave town during school breaks. Then later, when we got our driver’s licences, we often came here with friends to have parties, and we even held Liam’s stag night at the beach house. Of course, I can’t say Greenhaven is a noisy party-centre, it’s actually the opposite. A sleepy beach town with a few restaurants and shops, but its beach is brilliant. It’s more like a calm little place for families with children, or pensioners. But we always brought buzz with us whenever we came down here. Music was thumping in the house, so much, the police was called a few times. Poor Mr. P had to explain a lot to the authorities because of us.

I remember Liam and I once picked up a pair of twins. We were eighteen and thought we had the luck of a lifetime with the red-haired twin sisters. Liam made them believe that we were brothers and the house was ours. He was trying to impress them by saying we were related to the royal family, and we were having an incognito vacation to avoid the paparazzi. I could never woo a girl, let’s admit it, I had no one to learn it from, but he with his smooth talk always conjured the panties off girls in record time. They didn’t want to serve us at the pub, so we bought a lot of drinks at the petrol station and lit a bonfire on the beach. We both had one of the twins, and were creating trouble on the beach with a few friends. We got really sloshed, that’s the truth. We enjoyed buying alcohol legally at last and the girls were open to do stuff. I’ve never been violent with women. My father’s memory as he was beating my mother regularly, made a mark in my memory forever. On principle I would never lift my hand on a woman. I think every man is a damn coward who does it. The girls decided to run around naked on the beach, and we, Liam and I… what should I say… didn’t hold them back. Then someone, perhaps a neighbour called the cops on us for riot, rampage, what have you. But the time we were really in a lot of trouble was when it turned out they were the local policeman’s daughters, and if that’s not enough, they were sixteen. I swear it never crossed my mind they might be minors. They were well-developed, hot girls with a boob size any porn star would have envied. I don’t know if it was the fresh air of the sea that they looked older than their age or we were too drunk, we sucked big time. We kept the weekend in custody at the police office, and Mr P didn’t try too hard to come and get us. I think he wanted to let us experience the care of the police. We did learn from the incident. From then on, we made sure woman was of age.

“I have no idea what’s in the house, but other than spiders, I don’t think there’s much.”

Liam’s voice brings me back from my musings. I turn to the side and stare at him with a frown. I haven’t even had time to eat today, I can hardly see with hunger, and even a gourmet cook can’t cook without ingredients. I’m already making plans about what I would cook up for dinner, when this savage interferes with my thoughts.

“Pizza?”

I swear I’m going to kill myself if he is ready to stop by a random eatery and buy some thick-crusted, lukewarm s**t they name pizza. I want to slap him right now, from the side, but I can’t even kick his shin, so I give him a grumpy answer.

“Don’t even think about it. We’ll stop at the nearest shop, I’ll buy stuff and make a dinner for you that you’ll be kissing my feet, you ignorant amateur.”

He gives me a military salutation and laughs at the same time, and I just shake my head. Liam has never said no to my food, he even licks the plate when I cook. When I’m at his place, it happens a lot, because if I was to leave it to him, we would eat a can of beans with frozen pizza. I’m not a trained cook, I have a confectioner’s degree beside my winemaker one, but damn it., if I need to, I make a five-star four-course meal. Liam likes to tease me that if I reach the stage that my little guy can’t stand erect, it’s still okay, because with my cooking skills I can sweep any woman off her feet. I hope that’s still a long time from now!

We pile up a lot of goodies for the weekend, food and drinks. We go to the car with three large packed bags, load the stuff onto the back seat. I get in, Liam sits beside me, starts the engine and we leave the petrol station behind. Greenhaven is not far from here, only about ten minutes, and we’ll be at the house. I study the label of the wine we’ve just bought and start talking about what I will improvise to go with it at dinner when the car begins to decelerate. I look up, and through the windshield I see that about 50 metres from us a car is parked on the side of the road with its lights on and its doors open. As we slowly approach them, I make out two figures in the dim light around the car. Maybe they’ve broken down, or just stopped to take a leak. The car slows down more and more, and I give Liam an inquisitive look.

“What’s going on?”

“They’ve broken down, can’t you see?”

“So? I’m hungry.”

“Don’t be such an arse, Stark!” he says rolling his eyes, and by now I know the dinner is out the window.

“That’s my middle name, you know me. Anyhow, they may have only stopped for a piss.”

“500 metres from the gas station?” he asks, raising his eyebrows while pulling off the road. f**k it. Why does this guy always have to act Superman?

“And what if they are only pretending? Like, they might be bandits who rob unsuspecting drivers,” I wink at him, but in the meantime, I get out of the car with him and follow him towards the other car in the dark. Liam stops and answers turning back.

“Then I will protect you. Just chill. That okay now?”

“Damn you,” I murmur under my nose, but can’t be mad at him.

As we get closer, I see that an old couple is standing beside the car. The white-haired man is scratching the back of his neck. he is visibly floored while the woman is wringing her hands beside him with concern, and they’re both staring at the car wheel.

“Good evening,” Liam greets them, and I stop a bit further away. We really shouldn’t scare the old gent. “Is there a problem? Can we help?”

“Good evening. Yes,” he says, sizing us distrustfully, taking a fast glance at the inside of the car. I follow his eyes and see that a girl is sitting on the back seat. A young girl. “A flat tyre, but I can’t see much in the dark.”

“There should be a spare tyre in the boot, right?” my brother responds, sounding practical.