Ander - Part 4: Subchapter 23
23
"Boys. Get in here. Close the door."
Luke briefly considered making a run for it, maybe hide in the woods with Tim for a day or two like a pair of fugitives, but the short tone of Dad's voice was enough to tell him that if he intended to run off now, he might as well run off forever, because this sure as hell was not going to blow over.
Tim slowly, ever so slowly, _ridiculously_slowly shut the door, perhaps to buy himself a few more precious seconds to think up some kind of miraculous explanation for that knife and candle. Or maybe just a few more seconds of life. Either or.
"I wonder if you boys can answer a question for me?" Dad said, watching his sons line up at the foot of the bed like a pair of criminals.
Luke glanced at Tim, hoping that he would say something, and Tim glanced at Luke, probably thinking the same thing.
Neither of them said anything, but Dad didn't let that stop him. He jerked his head at the evidence. "Can you tell me what these are?"
Tim shuffled on the spot and looked down at his feet, and suddenly Luke felt a crushing wave of guilt crash down over his head, not because he had tried to kill a Wolf, but because he had dragged his little brother along with him. And for what? The whole thing seemed so moronically stupid now.
"Well!?" Dad barked, making them jump. "This isn't a philosophy class and that wasn't a rhetorical question! Tell me what these are, right now!"
"It's a candle," Luke said, unable to look his father in the eye, lest he be charbroiled, "and a... a knife."
"A knife and a candle?" he said, feigning surprise. "How on earth could a knife and a candle have gotten all the way from the kitchen and into Banno's room? Any ideas, boys?"
"James," the Wolf suddenly spoke up, instantly tripling Luke's heartbeat. "You really don't have to be so -"
Dad silenced him with a raised hand. "No, Banno. I understand this is difficult for you, but these are my children, and I must deal with them as they deserve."
"I understand," the Wolf said, sounding so downtrodden and feeble it made Luke want to try and stab him all over again, the sneaky manipulative fake lying piece of-
"I'm still waiting for an answer, boys," Dad said. "How did a candle and a knife make it all the way out of the kitchen and into Banno's room? Mayhap they grew legs?"
Tim nudged Luke in the ribs with his elbow. You got me into this mess, so say something!
Luke nudged him right back. I'm thinking, all right!?
The seconds dragged by, and every excuse that flitted through Luke's mind seemed more ludicrous than the last.
We thought we heard a burglar, so we came down to investigate without waking you up first.
Me and Tim both just happened to have sleepwalked down here on the same night, even though neither of us have ever sleepwalked before.
The Wolf hopped to the kitchen on one leg and stole the knife to frame us.
The - The -
No, the jig was up. There was no point in making up any wild stories because the Wolf had already told Dad what happened, and trying to argue against it would be almost impossible because, as much as Luke hated to admit it, the Wolf had the truth on its side. The best course of action wouldn't be to deny their actions, but to defend them.
"I was the one who took the knife from the kitchen," he admitted.
"Why did you do that, Luke?"
"Because... I tried to kill the Wolf with it."
Dad drew in a huge gulp of air and Luke braced himself for the coming avalanche of paternal wrath. There was an avalanche all right, but not the kind he was expecting.
Dad buried his face in his hands, slowly shook his head, and in a voice completely different from the authoritative tone of just a few seconds ago, he said: "Gods damn it, Luke, what am I going to do with you?"
Luke was speechless. Even the Wolf was looking at Dad like he had busted a gear or something.
Tim approached him, his hand stretched out, but Dad shrunk away from it. "And what was your part in all this, Timothy? Huh!? Were you there to hold the candle while your brother tried to murder Banno in his sleep!?"
"N-No!" Tim stammered, now on the verge of tears. "I didn't! I was only- I..."
"I can't even look at you right now. You could have stopped him, you could have woken me, you could have told me what he was planning, but instead of any of that, you went along with it like a sheep."
"No! I did try to stop him, Dad! I did!"
"So you believed that what he was planning was wrong, but you went along with it anyway? That makes you worse, Tim. Not better."
"But-"
"Go away. I don't care where. Just go. I'll deal with you later."
Tim bit down on his lower lip, his eyes swimming. "I only -"
"GO!"
Tim recoiled as if struck a physical blow and ran from the room, not even sparing his big twin a glance on his way out.
By the Gods, what have I gotten us into? Luke wondered as Tim shut the door and ran down the hallway, his footfalls thudding off into oblivion.
"It was all my idea," Luke blurted out, not planning ahead, just saying what he needed to say as fast as possible before Dad could get a chance to silence him. "Tim had nothing to do with it, I was just scared to do it alone, so please don't punish him! I'll... I'll take both our punishments, if that's what's needed. I -"
Dad slowly shook his head, his eyes closed, his hands steepled in front of his mouth. Luke would have preferred him to look angry, or even furious. Anything other than this embodiment of despair and disappointment he saw before him.
"If you were older, you could be thrown in gaol for this, you know. Did you ever stop to consider that?"
Gaol? Him? No, that was ridiculous. He may have technically tried to assassinate someone, but...
Luke shook his head. "No, Dad. Those laws only apply to Foxes. This is a Wolf, not a Fox. You might as well call a hunter a murderer for taking down a rogue bear, or a mountain lion that's been getting into the sheep."
"Look at him!" Dad yelled, thrusting his open palms in Banno's direction. "He can speak, just like you! He eats and sleeps, just like you! He has a family who loves him, who are worried sick about him, just like you! So what if he's not a Fox? If he can talk and think and feel as we do, then how is he any different apart from how he looks? And if he is the same as a Fox, then how does that make you any different from a back alley murderer!? Please explain it to me so I can understand! Please make it clear to me so I don't have to look at my own son that way! I beg of you!"
Dad looked at him, his eyes wild and crazy, and Luke realized those were not mere words. He was literally pleading for an explanation that would spare him the shame of having a potential murderer for a son. He waited and waited, looking up at him like a beggar might look at a noble, waiting for the table scraps that would see him through the day.
Luke balled his hands into fists and did the only thing he could. He told the truth. "I did what I did because I love you, Dad! Can't you understand? I love you and Tim and Vee! All of you! I don't want anything bad to happen to you, but you're so blind I can't stand it!" He broke eye contact with Dad just long enough to check up on what the Wolf was doing. It's barely moved an inch since they came in, and still wore that sadsack victim's mask of 'Oh woe is me, children tried to kill me in my sleep, boo-hoo' but that single eye of his was wide awake and peering out at him from underneath those rolls of white bandages, analysing every detail of their conversation. He could feel that solitary gaze travel up and down his face like a hairy spider, one he could never wipe away. Why did Dad have to call him in here to do this, of all places? Couldn't they have this talk somewhere more private?
"You speak of love as a justification for murder?" Dad asked, absolutely horror-stricken.
"That's not what I -"
"Nothing is ever a justification for murder! Least of all 'love'!" He shrieked, his whole body shaking in his chair, his lips trembling, the corners of his mouth turned down in pure agony. "And saying that it is? That's the worst possible perversion of 'love' I have ever heard!"
Luke didn't know how to respond to that. He felt like screaming that the Wolf was dangerous and that it would have killed him and Tim by the river if it didn't pass out right when it did, and that it stared at Valery like a piece of meat, and that he was fully justified in what he tried to do, and even if he wasn't, he didn't even succeed. _That's_what he should be feeling ashamed about. His failure. Not that he got caught - he was planning on getting caught anyway. Not that he dragged his little brother into life-threatening danger because he was too much of a coward to go alone. Not that he was about to make his own father cry for the first time since -
The realization struck him like a hammer to the face, and he suddenly understood how his Dad must feel in this moment; a lonely Fox trying his very best to raise three children all by himself, teaching them to be good and kind and accepting, only to discover that he must be doing such a horrible job of it that two of them turned out to be cold-hearted killers.
Dad covered his eyes, but Luke could see the tears spill past his cheek and down his neck. In all his life, he could only remember ever seeing him cry twice. Once when Valery was born...
And once when Mom died.
"Dad, please don't..." Luke started, but couldn't finish the sentence. He could feel the burn slowly working its way up his throat, a tell-tale sign that his own treacherous tears weren't far off.
In the bed, the Wolf had turned its face away, perhaps to give them as much privacy as he could, or perhaps just acting like it. Luke didn't know anymore.
Maybe he should be ashamed of himself. If Dad was right, then he really did almost kill someone just because of a bad feeling. Maybe all the 'evidence' he had gathered in his head really was just a paranoid delusion. If that was true, then what did it say about him?
Suddenly faced with the possibility that every hurtful accusation his father had laid at his feet might be true, Luke desperately tried to heap up enough evidence to prove the contrary, at least in his own eyes.
Yes, Banno had grabbed him by the river and lifted him clean off his feet. Yes, he opened his mouth wide and it seemed like he would have bitten his head right off his shoulders. Yes, he did look at Valery in a weird way and even scratched the back of her hand. Yes, he was big and scary and just looking at him was enough to give Luke nightmares.
But did he ever actually try_to hurt any of them? _Did he?
No. He didn't. Even the time with Val was probably just an accident.
But Luke did. First he tried to get his father to do it for him, and when that failed he tried to do the deed himself.
"Do you know why Banno didn't cry out last night?" Dad asked, his gaze fixed firmly on the floor.
Luke shook his head, then realized Dad couldn't see. "No..."
Banno shifted in the bed, making it creak and groan. "It's because I didn't want to wake Valery," he said, his voice grave. "I've only been here for a short while, but even I can see how much she reveres you and your brother. I can't even begin to imagine how horrible it would have been for her, torn from her slumber by screams of murder in the middle of the night, only to find the ones she looks up to so much prowling through the shadows with knife in hand and death in mind. It would have devastated her. So I thought I'd wait. I kept vigil until morning, not knowing if you would come back to try again, so that we could have this talk here, behind the privacy of a shut gate, nice and quiet, while your sister was outside. Maybe, if we can all agree on peace, she never has to find out."
"Are you hearing his, Luke?" Dad said. "This is the 'monster' you wanted to slay. He's more concerned for the well-being of Valery, a complete stranger, than his own safety. Did you even stop to think for a single second about your sister, about what this would have done to her? She -"
There came a soft tapping at the door, and an old saying flitted through Luke's mind: Speak of the devil and you'll step on his tail.
"Dad?" Vee's voice, so small, so tentative. "Are you in there?"
Dad quickly wiped his eyes on his sleeve and put on a fake smile. "I'm in here, sweety."
The door opened and there she stood, holding onto the doorknob with both hands, her eyes darting from face to face, no doubt trying to piece together the story so obviously being hidden from her.
"Yes, dear?" Dad asked, smiling way too broadly. Mom always used to tease him for being such a terrible liar, and that much hasn't changed.
"Did something happen?"
"Why, no. What makes you ask that?"
Valery looked over her shoulder, then back again. The way she hung onto the door made it sway back and forth slightly. "I heard shouting."
"Oh, that was just me calling your brothers. So slow, you know. I needed to put some hussle in their step, that's all."
"I saw Tim outside. He looked sad. Really, really sad. But he wouldn't talk to me."
"Oh. Don't worry about that. I'll have a talk with him once I'm done changing Banno's bandages."
Valery's gaze flicked to the pristine bandages covering half of Banno's head, freshly changed just a few minutes ago, and then switched over to Luke's guilty face. He looked away, not that it would do any good.
"Did you do something?" she asked.
Luke didn't trust himself to answer. Right now, he'd rather face Banno all alone in the dark again than see the look on her face if she found out what he had tried to do last night.
"No, hon," Dad said, still wearing that overly big smile. "Why don't you go check the henhouse, hmm? Collect some eggs for supper."
"But it's Luke's turn to -"
"Please, Valery. Be a good girl and do as your Daddy says."
She lingered at the door, nervously looking from one face to the next.
She knows we did something, Luke thought, trying desperately not to shake. She knows just as sure as the gods made green grass.
She looked down at her feet, said: "Okay, Daddy," and slowly pulled the door shut with a soft click.
And then she was gone.
Dad sighed, leaned back in his chair and rubbed his face. Banno, he...
He was staring at the door with that single black eye of his, staring so intently he wasn't even blinking, that giant pit in his head like the deepest, darkest well, filled with noxious ichor instead of water. Luke didn't like it. It felt like he was trying to look right through_the door, maybe at Valery as she walked down the hallway, her heart heavy with worry. Seeing that look in the brute's eye reminded him of why he tried to do end it in the first place. There was just something... _wrong with him! Horribly, horribly wrong!
Luke felt like he was being torn apart from the inside out, one half screaming at him to keep his head down and take what was coming like a good boy before he made it any worse on himself and his siblings, the other shrieking to fight as hard as he could, right now, while his father had his guard down. This might be his last chance to get a word in, the last chance to go on the attack.
He looked Banno square in the eye and said the first thing that came to mind, something that's been bothering him ever since last night. "You laughed." He said it like an accusation, his voice shaking. "You laughed and laughed! Like it was all a joke to you! And now you sit there acting like some damsel?"
The Wolf twitched. It was just a little tick near the corner of its mouth, but it was definitely there. It narrowed its eye and said: "Have you ever nearly lost your life? Luke?"
Luke tensed. That was the first time it had called him by name, and he liked that just about as much as he liked the looks it kept throwing at Vee. There was something about the way he said it, some subtle accentuation that made it seem like a jab.
"Well I have. Several times, actually. I've seen friends die right in front of me, and I've seen those that survive wander around the next day, trying to figure out why they were spared while their friends and brothers now walk The Path. Each of them deal with it differently. Some retreat into themselves, becoming quiet and thoughtful. Some try to ignore it completely, like it never happened. These are the ones that always seem on edge, like they're having terrible day after terrible day. Others bury themselves in their beliefs, thinking that it will cover the pain. No matter what strategy they use, it always comes down to cry or go crazy. Some get better, some don't. Some carry on, others can't. Me? When faced with that decision, I'd rather opt for a third. When the time comes to cry or go crazy, I laugh instead. It's just as useless as the other options, I guess, but at least it gets out fast. In my world, where your life could depend on a single second, you either do what must be done, or you die. It's as simple as that. Believe me when I say that I understand your actions, Luke, maybe even better than your father here. You did what you thought must be done, and I can respect that, even if the life you believed you had to take to safeguard your family was my own. Just like you, I did what I had to do, and what I had to do was laugh about it. It all just... came together in that moment, I guess. I lost my foot, nearly got killed by an arrow, lost my eye, nearly drowned in the river, nearly died of an infection afterwards, lost all my friends and family, don't know if I'll ever see them again, and to top it all off, after all that horrible pain and suffering, I nearly got done in by a pair of tiny little Fox cubs wielding their Daddy's kitchen knife. It all just..."
The Wolf started to laugh. It was the same, slow chuckle of last night, only now bathed in morning sunlight instead of a stuttering candle flame. The laughter grew and grew, throwing Luke back in time, to when he was standing in this very spot, frozen in the dark, listening to this same, terrible sound, flooding his very soul with its evil mirth, spreading to every-
Wait, was it... crying?
The change between his chuckles and his sobs was so subtle, he didn't even realize it at first, but yes, those were definitely tears streaming from Banno's remaining eye. Luke tried to tell himself it was just from all the laughing, but he couldn't kid himself. Banno was crying. The great monster he had tried so hard to vanquish with his own hands was crying.
"I guess the Cora must hate me pretty bad, huh?" he said, his voice broken and choked. He tried to start laughing again, but only managed one feeble chuckle that quickly transformed itself into a gut-wrenching sob. Snot shot out of his nostril, pushed out by a huge burst of air. He quickly wiped it away with his wrist, smiling apologetically. "I'm sorry," he sniffed. "I don't normally do that. It's just..."
"It's okay, Banno," Dad said and -
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