To Train Up a Champion - Part 4
#4 of To Train Up a Champion
Martin and Olivia had no choice but to stay at the cabin all night and into the morning, making sure that the parents of all the party goers had collected their kids. Martin knew that he couldn't just let them leave on their own, as most of them were far too drunk to walk a straight line, let alone get in a vehicle and drive. He also didn't like the idea of getting the police involved since they would have to arrest Ian and Luke for underage drinking.
When morning came, Martin and Olivia knew what they would be in for. Both Ian and Luke were severely hungover, with both boys complaining of headaches and sensitivity to light and loud noises. Neither one stayed far from the toilet, as they took turns throwing up. It wasn't until noon that the family finally left the cabin and headed back home. Olivia drove both Ian and Luke back, while Martin took his oldest son's SUV. He was still so mad at them that he didn't want to be in the same car on the return trip, which seemed to last for twelve hours to the still hungover boys.
At home, Martin sat the boys down and proceeded to lecture them about everything they'd done wrong. "I'm extremely disappointed in both of you; not so much because you got drunk, but because I obviously can't trust you anymore, and I thought I could," he turned his attention to Ian. "I'm glad that Barry and Zeb had the good sense not to attend your party last night, because that would have made things very difficult with Matt and Ian O'Brien. What in the hell were you two thinking anyway?"
Luke, his eyes cast down at the floor, spoke. "Guess we weren't thinking last night, Dad."
"I appreciate your honesty, Luke," said Martin. "But you're going to be punished for what you did last night, and just so we clear on what you did, you bought beer illegally, drank it, threw a party with a bunch of kids who also got drunk. You annoyed the neighbors and forced your mother and I to alter our plans and go up there to stop all that foolishness. After all of that, I've decided what your punishment will be," Martin reached out his right paw. "Give me your car keys and cell phone, Luke. They're gone for the summer."
Luke could feel his heart sink as he was forced to relinquish two possessions that were so important to all the kids his age. What was worse; this was the first summer that he had his driver's license and he was looking forward to going on trips with his friends, or even driving to New York City by himself for a day, but he'd have to wait until next summer before that could happen. Still suffering from the affects of being hungover, and having been stripped of transportation and a social life, it was all the sixteen year old folf could do not to start crying as his father told him to go to his room. There was a part of Martin that really didn't want to do that to his second born, as Luke was typically a well behaved boy, but he'd crossed way over the line last night, and Martin had to put his foot down.
"And what about you?" asked Martin, scowling at his firstborn. "You got anything to say for yourself?"
"You freak out too much, Dad," said Ian, annoyed at being interrogated, but even more so by his still present headache. He curled his lip at his father contemptuously.
"Just as I thought," said Martin, feeling his blood beginning to boil just as it had on the previous night. "After all this, and you just don't get it, do you?"
"Get what?" said Ian in a louder tone, but instantly regretting it as it only made his headache worse. "We were just having some fun with our friends and you had to freak out like we were doing something wrong."
Martin shook his head. "Well, you just made my decision easier," he said, walking up and getting in his son's personal space. "Ian, your brothers and sisters are going to be back this evening, but before they get back, I want you gone."
"Gone?" said Ian, rubbing his head. "What do you mean . . . gone?"
"I want you out of this house," said Martin.
"You're . . . you're throwing me out?" said Ian in disbelief. "You're joking!"
"Know I'm not, son," said Martin.
"But . . . why?" asked the folf.
"Because I can't control you anymore, Ian. Despite all that your mother and I have done for you, you just do whatever the hell you want. You're disobedient, you're mean, and now you're getting your brother into trouble. Well, I'm not going to let you corrupt the rest of your siblings, so I want you to back up your things and leave by this evening."
"Where'm I gonna go?" said Ian, still in shock.
"I don't really care," said Martin. "You've got your trust funds from your grandparents, so you can get a place of your own."
"I can't believe this," said Ian, getting up from the couch. The folf ran to his room and started packing. His headache was the least of concerns now. He had to figure out where he was going to stay that night. How could his father do this to him? It was just a party, and no one got hurt, except for the buck that his father had thrown a left hook at. This was all too much for the eighteen year old, who was still acting more like a boy than a man. He carried his packed bags out to his SUV, his nostrils almost breathing fire as he went about carrying the rest of his possessions outside and loaded them up. He was almost ready to leave, when Martin and Olivia walked outside to see him off.
Ian could see how upset his mother was, going over to her, he hugged her tightly and she kissed him goodbye. "I love you, Ian," she said, feeling the tears well up and cascade down her face. "Call me when you've found a place, okay?"
"Okay, Mom," said Ian, feeling himself getting teary eyed as well. The big folf just glared at his father before getting in the driver's seat and starting up his vehicle. Ian rolled down the window, seeing that Martin wanted to speak with him.
"Listen, son," said Martin. "I really think this is for the best. You've got to learn that there are boundaries in life, and maybe being out on your own for a while will be a good lesson for you. I just hope you know that once you've figured out some things, and you're ready to apologize, you're welcome back here, okay?"
Ian, his paws on the steering wheel, looked over at his father, he curled his lips, flared his nostrils and narrowed his eyes at his Dad. "I hate you," said the folf, and promptly drove off into the unknown. Martin just stood in the driveway, unable to believe what his firstborn has just said to him. It wasn't until Olivia came over and grasped his paw that the former undisputed Middleweight and Super Middleweight champion of the world could know longer hold back his emotions. There, in the driveway of the McGregor Mansion, Martin and Olivia held each other, sobbing uncontrollably.
Barry O'Brien, one of Ian's best friends, and the son of his name sake was sitting in the living room next to his seven year old brother, Patrick, watching cartoons. They were just enjoying another summer day while their parents were out of the house. Barry, ever the good big brother, looked over at the younger cheetah.
"Hey," said Barry. "You wanna get some lunch?"
"Sure," said Patrick. "Can we get some burgers?"
"Course we can," said Barry, ruffling his little brother's ears. "I'll go get my keys and wallet and then we'll take off, okay?"
Patrick jumped off the couch and was off like a shot towards the front door. Barry chuckled at the young cub, remembering what it was like to be so young, so innocent, to be thrilled to death to get some cheeseburgers at his favorite restaurant. Grabbing his keys and wallet, he and his little brother headed out the door, with the older cheetah making sure that he locked the front door. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a pair of sunglasses. It was a bright, sunny and very hot day, and he would definitely be starting up his car and allowing the air conditioning cool down the interior. On a day like this, sitting down in a car with leather seats was a surefire way to get your backside burned; not something that either Barry or Patrick wanted to experience.
As they waited, Patrick pointed to the end of the driveway, seeing a familiar vehicle pulling onto their property. "Barry," squeaked the little cheetah. "It's Ian."
Barry turned his attention away from his car, and towards the SUV that was pulling up beside him. Indeed it was his best friend Ian that he was seeing. The folf killed the engine on his car, and stepped out to greet the cheetah.
"Hey, man," said Barry. "What's going on?"
Before Ian could answer, he felt Patrick's arms wrap around his legs. "Ian!" squeaked the little cheetah.
Ian smiled. He'd spent so much time at the O'Brien household that Patrick was like a little brother to him, as were Barry's other brother and two sisters. "Whatcha doin', squirt?" asked the folf, picking up the cheetah cub.
"Me and Barry's gonna go get cheeseburgers," said the cub proudly.
"Sounds like a good time," said Ian. "Hey, you mind if I talk to your brother for a minute?"
Patrick nodded his head in understanding. Barry opened the door to the front of the car to let Patrick in, as it was cool enough to sit down without worrying about burning one's butt. The older cheetah looked back at his friend. "So," he said. "What's up?"
"Dad threw me out of the house," said Ian. "Me and Luke got in deep shit after the party last night."
Barry sighed. "I told you that it was a bad idea to throw a party up there, man," said Barry. "Why do you think Zeb and I didn't go?"
"Yeah, yeah," said Ian with irritation. "Save your sermon, Reverend O'Brien."
"You looking for a place to stay?" asked Barry, realizing where the conversation was going.
"Just for tonight," said Ian. "Tomorrow, I'm heading for the city."
"New York City?" asked Barry. "Whatcha gonna do there?"
"What do you think?" said Ian. "Gonna get a place of my own and look for a promoter. I'm not waiting forever to start up my fighting career."
"Huh," said Barry. "I knew you were anxious to get started, but I didn't know you were this anxious."
"Fuck yeah," said Ian. "What I wanted to know was . . . you wanna come along with me?"
"Seriously?" asked the cheetah.
"Yeah," said Ian seriously. "I've already got Zeb to come along with me. What do you say? Three friends going to the big city, ready to start their own lives. It'll be fun."
"I don't know, Ian," said Barry. "I still wanna get some more amateur fights in before I'd even think about turning pro."
"Don't be a pussy, Barry," snapped the folf. "You're ready now. You've got great skills, amazing speed, and you've got the tricky southpaw style that throws all your opponents off. Zeb's ready, I'm ready . . . why not come aboard with us? You can always come back home if you don't like it."
The cheetah sighed. "Yeah, okay," he said. The cheetah turned around, seeing Patrick pounding on the passenger window, obviously wanting to get his cheeseburger sooner rather than later. "Hey, you gonna come with us to get some chow?"
"Sure," said Ian. "Besides, we need to plan tomorrow's trip. I'll go pick up Zeb really quick and we can work out all the details."
Barry nodded, and watched Ian get in his vehicle and drive off. Sighing once more, he got in the driver's seat of his own car and headed towards town. Patrick looked over at his big brother, seeing something was troubling him.
"What's wrong?" asked the little cheetah.
"Oh, nothing," said Barry, putting the sun visor down to block the bright summer rays. "Ian, Zeb and I are going on a little trip tomorrow."
"Where you going?" asked the curious spotted cat.
Barry looked over at his little brother. "Crazy, Patrick. I'm going crazy."
As the two brothers went into town, Barry couldn't help but think that he might be making a huge mistake, but only time would tell.