Heroes

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Fifteen

I pushed open the front door and trudged in, Dad following behind me. He had insisted on picking me up from school over the past weeks. They trailed me, a punishment for my sneaking out and almost getting myself killed, apparently. He didn't seem to care that he had to miss his work lunch break to do so.

As we wandered the hallway Henry's voice carried through from the living room. He was playing with action figures, sending them flying and crashing into one another as he made them fight. The winning figure was different every day depending on which one was his favourite. Today was Super Man. I couldn't help but think about myself in the Paradox costume. I could have been Henry's favourite one day.

We wandered into the kitchen. Dad always came in to kiss Mum quick before he had to go back to work. She was standing in the middle of the room leaning up against the back of a dining chair. She clutched a piece of paper in her hands, her eyes trailing over the words that must have been scrawled across the page.

"Hello," called Dad as he slipped into the room, "oh did we get mail? Who's the letter from love?"

Mum looked stunned. She hastily folded the letter back away and stuffed it urgently into a white envelope and muttering a rather frantic,

"Oh nothing," she sang awkwardly. "Just bills. How was your day sweetie?"

"Same old same old," Dad chuckled. "Got to head back in a moment. Can I get a kiss?"

Mum offered a soft smile and raised up to peck him on the lips. She helped him straighten his tie and neatened his hair and she let him head back towards the door calling that she would see him later.

"How about you George?" She then asked passively, turning back towards the chopping board where she had laid out three green peppers and a sharp knife. "How has your day been?"

I barely heard her. My eyes were locked on the envelope still sitting on the dining table. There was something in there. Something different. Something that had Mum worked up.

When I didn't reply to Mum's question she turned back around and blinked at me. She must have noticed me staring as she attempted with a kind of nonchalance to sweep the envelope into her hands. I stopped her by catching the far right corner before she could whip it away.

"George!" She gasped attempting to pull it away from me. "What are you doing? Let go."

"What was the letter?" I asked refusing to release the envelope.

"I told you George," she said firmly, "bills, not that you have any right to be asking me about my personal mail."

"It wasn't bills," I argued. "Not unless we're going bankrupt. You hesitated. You went white."

"No I did not," she snapped. "Let go George, you're behaving like a child."

"Am I?" I glared. "Or are you?"

"George!"

"Mum!"

Mum snapped her hand back and snatched away the envelope glowering at me with a warning gaze.

"George enough," she yelled. "Go and get your books. Tim will be here soon to tutor you."

"Fine!"

I whirled around and stormed away from Mum. Both frustration and smugness pumping through my blood. I crunched at the letter that was folded in my palm and hurried upstairs. Of course I had got it, after all, time was on my side.

When I reached my room I shut the door tight and wedged it there with a door stop. I had about ten minutes before Tim arrived and Mum came looking for me. Ten minutes plenty of time to read the letter and find my books, if I hurried up. With urgent and therefore slightly shaking hands I unfolded the paper. It was a letter, hand written in a neat curl of writing. I started to read aloud, in a whisper only for myself to hear.