Back to You(51)

“Hello?” Michael said softly into the phone.
“Yo, who’s this?” a strange voice said.
“Hi. My name is Michael. I’m looking for my brother Aaron.” He glanced at the kitchen doorway every few seconds, trying to keep his voice down.
There was a clatter, like someone dropped the phone, and then he heard a deep voice call, “Yo! Delaney! Phone!”
There were a few more yells and laughter, and then the music changed to something that thumped so loud, Michael couldn’t hear the voices anymore. Just before he was about to hang up and try again, he heard shuffling on the other end of the phone, and then finally, his brother’s voice.
“Yeah?”
“Aaron,” he said, his heart filling with relief. “I need you to get me.”
“Mike? Where are you?”
“I don’t know. The blue house across from the grocery store.”
“What?” Aaron said, sounding confused. “Why are you there?”
“Mommy made me come here. She said she had things to do and I couldn’t stay home tonight. I need you to come get me. I don’t want to be here.”
“Oh, buddy,” Aaron said, his voice sounding strange. “I can’t.”
“Please?” Michael said, trying to keep his voice calm as he glanced toward the kitchen doorway.
“Mike, I’m with my friends…I can’t…”
“Please?” he said again, and this time his voice cracked, much to his embarrassment. “I don’t like it here. I’m scared. I want to sleep in your bed.”
In the three years since his father had left, sometimes he would sleep with his brother when he felt scared, or sad, or { display: block; text-indent: 5%; font-size: 0.88rem; margin-top: e 29 when his mother was on the rampage. And even though Aaron was sixteen now, he never objected.
“Mike,” Aaron said, his voice almost pleading, and then he took a breath. “Shit. Okay. Shit…alright. I’ll be there in a little bit.” Aaron exhaled heavily and mumbled another curse.
“Thank you,” Michael said, blinking back tears. “I’m sorry.”
“Hey, don’t you be sorry. Don’t you be sorry,” he said, his voice taking on that strange quality again. “Love you, Mike. I’m coming.” And then he hung up.
Michael hung up quickly and slid down off the chair, struggling to bring it back to the table without making noise. As soon as he did, he grabbed a napkin off the counter and wrote a note to the old woman, telling her he went home. And then he grabbed his pillow and his turtle and tiptoed through the living room to the front door.
He turned the knob slowly, his eyes on the sleeping woman the entire time, and gently squeezed out onto the porch, shutting the door softly behind him.
He wasn’t sure how long he stood there on the porch in the dark, hugging his pillow and stuffed animal, but eventually he saw a pair of headlights coming down the road, and he smiled widely, walking down the steps and onto the sidewalk. As soon as he reached the bottom step, his smile fell slightly. The car had stopped a few houses down, and Michael realized with dismay that maybe it wasn’t Aaron. Just before he could step back up onto the porch, the car lurched forward, coming to a sudden stop again, and then it swerved slightly to one side before righting itself and continuing slowly up the street.
Michael stood there, his hand clutching the banister, the fear growing in his stomach. He should have waited inside the house.
Just as he was about to turn back, the car passed below a streetlight, and he recognized it as Aaron’s. Michael grinned and ran down the walkway just as Aaron’s car pulled slowly up against the curb and the passenger door opened from the inside.
Michael climbed in hurriedly, smiling over at his brother.
“Hey buddy,” Aaron said, his voice still sounding strange, and Michael stopped smiling.
“Are you mad at me?”
“‘Course not!” Aaron said a little too loudly, waving his hand at him dismissively.
Michael looked down at the stick shift in between them. “You’re acting different.”
“Nah,” Aaron said. “Just don’t feel good. I need some sleep,” he added, leaning over to help Michael with his seatbelt.
Michael leaned back slightly, away from the strange smell that seemed to be coming off of his brother.
“Are you sick?”
Aaron laughed softly. “Yeah, I’m a little sick. It’s all good though.”
That should have made Michael feel better, that there was a reason for his brother’s strange behavior, but it didn’t. He hugged his pillow into his chest.
“Sorry I made you come get me when you were sick,” he murmured.