Who's to Say What's Strange?

Tables Shifted

I ran inside the house as fast as I could without slipping on the wet cement that led to the front door. It seemed to take minutes too long to find the right key that fit the lock and my shaking hands helped the situation none. To think that just a half hour at most prior to now, it had been a good morning. A great day even! A great day that turned upside down with a phone call from my lovely wife crying hysterically – something about a fight with the children and Ivan in trouble. I couldn't make out much, but sped home before I even found someone to cover for me.

Upon opening the door, I found the inhabitants inside were much calmer than I. Or at least, they seemed to be.

Rosemary was leaning against the wall biting her thumb nail.

Luke was wrapped in a towel, his hair wet, no longer dripping.

David sat next to his brother, one arm wrapped around Luke's shoulders, the other hand grasped the loose material of his jeans tight in his fist.

Ivan… Ivan had his knees pulled up to his chest, his arms wrapped around his legs and silent tears dripped down his cheeks like a leaky faucet.

"What's going on?" I asked, attempting to sound more authoritative than frightened.

"Ivan pushed Luke into the stream around back and got in a fist fight with David…" Rosemary whispered turning her head away from the children. I pulled in front of Ivan and knelt down to his eye-level.

"I didn't do it…" he whispered through his tears. "I swear."

"If you didn't do it, will you tell me who did?" I asked in the same tone.

At this, Ivan's breath hitched and though it didn't seem possible, he pulled himself into an even smaller ball and hid his face behind his knees.

"So you won't tell me?"

"I can't," he sobbed.

"Why not?"

"You'll get angry." At this, Ivan lifted his face whipped his tears away with his sleeve. Giving up for now, I turned to look at my other two sons. Luke looked frightened, defeated. David was angry, switching the focus of his steely gaze between Ivan and I.

"Everybody go to your rooms," I sighed, not knowing what else to do.

That night, my dreams were plagued with clips and pictures of my children and of Ivan, who in my mind no longer seemed to join the group of 'my children.'

"You'll get angry…" Ivan.

"Why not?"

"I can't," he sobbed

"So you won't tell me?"

The conversation played backwards, and suddenly there was David, angry and speechless, now yelling, "He didn't do it! Don't touch him!" Watching, I only wondered, if not Ivan, then who? David looked straight at me and screamed.

"You did it! You did!"

I woke in a cold sweat and gasped.

Short and sweet, I like to say. Next chapter will be up in a few minutes.  Don’t forget to vote!