The Silent Brute

Chapter 4: Family Of Grave-Diggers

Cassius

I didn't know what to make of it.

Of her.

I had saw her the day before at the cemetery while visiting my grandfather.

"Hey Miriam!" My grandpa stopped mid-sentence to yell to a figure in the distance .

"Hey Lenzo!" She screamed . "I promise I won't be long today!" There were vibrant blue flowers in her arms. She had to of been visiting someone.

"Take all the time you need!" Her slender frame walked further back into cemetery before it hit me that she was Miriam. The Miriam, who cursed out a whole cafeteria of people.

"Poor little thing." Grandpa placed his hands on his hips, mimicking his daughter and late wife.

An unhealthy dose of curiosity pooled into my brain. I wasn't captivated by her, just mildly curious about the steel president. Questions sat on my tongue and weighted my jaw down. I was naturally curious, one of my biggest flaws.

I also didn't dare to ask.

I pushed thoughts if her in the back of my head.

"Come on, boy." If it was something else that bothered me about my grandpa, it was his constant need to call me boy. I was a whole head taller and as the years passed, his muscle mass turned into fat which scared me. Eventually, I ,too, would turn into a old fat lazy cemetery owner. "I'm so happy your mother sent you to help today. I'm getting too old for this business."

Grandpa led me to the site of a future grave. He had already placed the markers in. I began to dig. Halfway through, he stopped me. "That's enough for today. You have school tomorrow, don't you?" I nodded as I climbed out from someone's final resting place.

"I used to dig that fast. But like I said earlier, I'm too old for this business." He passed me a water bottle as I gathered my breath. I drunk the whole bottle in a couple gulps.

Yeah, just a kick away from the grave.

"You dig graves better than your parents. Your Ma was a grave-digging superstar, but she had dreams." He looked off into the distance, wiping sweat from his gray brow. A look of pride shined in his eyes. "Your Pa built a grave once. It was his first and last time. Worst grave ever, hands down. Didn't even make it to six feet. He stopped at four and a half feet. He cried to your Ma about how he couldn't see, and if he didn't stop then, he wouldn't be able to climb out." I chuckled at the story. I believed every word of it. My dad was short, and very non-athletic. Whereas my mother was tall, and a former weightlifter-turned accountant. They were a odd pair. Just imagine an Amazonian married to Finding Nemo's Dad.

My mom picked me up later. She asked Grandpa over for dinner, but he declined as per usual.

"How was school?" She asked before we pulled into the driveway.

I grunted.

"Cassius Lucas, you better use words with me." She pointed her hot pink finger nails at me.

For the first time in twenty hours, I opened my mouth to speak.

"It was school. I don't know what you want me to say." I rolled my eyes at her.

"Don't you roll your eyes at me." She warned me again.

Then I entered pure chaos. The Lucas household was anything, but normal... or safe.... or socially acceptable.

Persephone's toys littered the floor near the entrance, and flooded into the kitchen. You could hear her six year old screams coming from further in the house. "Percy, come clean up your toys." My mother yelled into the home. Two little feet came shuffling in.

"But I didn't do it. Sal pushed all of my toys over the railing." Her front teeth were gone and she looked like a miniature copy of my mom. Blonde hair, caramel eyes and a pink tutu.

Another pair of heavy feet clambered down the stairs. Caesar came down. He was my oldest brother and also was the biggest of us all. We called him Sal, because when he was chubby when he was younger, kids around the block called him "Caesar's Salad" and like the idiot he was, he embraced it. Which eventually led to Sal.

"I warned her to keep it out of my doorway-" Mom interrupted him.

"Clean it up together." Her voice told them to obey and they immediately complied.

"Mom, Dad hit his head again." Apollo entered the foyer this time. He was a swimmer, so he was tall and all shoulders. Thin too.

My dad was always clumsy and by clumsy I mean he would be dead without us. He managed to slip, fall, and almost drown on a daily basis.

"On what?" Apollo opened his lips to speak, but Mom cut him off too. "Matter of fact...I don't wanna know. Tell him I'll be up in a minute."

"That's the thing. He's unconscious again." My mom took off up the stairs to her unconscious husband, taking three steps at a time in heels.

This all happened before I even took my shoes off.