The Fort (Aric Davis)

else?” Tim asked.
    “Nope. You both have normal days, and we’ll meet back here at the same time tomorrow night.”

32
    The night felt like it had been a dream, when Tim woke, exhausted, to his mother pounding on his bedroom door. He called, “I’m up, Mom,” before even looking at the clock. When he did, he saw it was seven in the morning.
    He slid out of bed, and the sight of himself in his mirror stopped him. It hadn’t been a dream. He really had snuck out, made a plan with his friends, and, just as stealthily, snuck back into the house unnoticed. He threw on new clothes and walked to the kitchen, making sure not to smile as he entered.
    His mom was frying bacon and cracking eggs for scrambling, while his dad was reading at the table. Becca was nowhere to be found, so Tim assumed she was sulking in her room.
    Tim walked to the table and sat down. “Ready to get to work, Dad?”
    His dad eyed him over the book. “I’m ready to watch you work. I’m taking a day off. You might want to get yourself some breakfast. It’s a long time until lunch.”
    “But Mom—”
    “Your mother is making a hot breakfast for herself and for me. You may have cereal, and there are some bananas that aren’t quite bad yet.”
    Tim stood and walked back to get his cereal. They were really taking this seriously! He smiled but kept it on the inside. There was no reason for them to see it, or to risk their thinking he might be up to something. He was winning, no matter how hard they thought they were punishing him. He had snuck out and back in successfully, and seen the two people they had barred him from ever seeing again. They’re going to feel terrible when they find out I didn’t lie, and I’m never going to accept an apology for it. That thought did make Tim smile, and he banished the dangerous expression from his face as he began to pour milk over the cereal.
    Work, as Tim knew it would be, was hard. He spent the morning suffering with loads of heavy rock, while his father sat in a chair, drinking a glass of ice water. The worst part was the no talking. His father was a super-good friend, and as bad as it was being banished from his other friends, it was almost worse having this one be so unfriendly.
    As morning faded slowly to afternoon and the pile of rock got smaller, Tim thought of Becca, and how in the world he was going to get his sister to listen to him long enough to even start a conversation. And that was the easy part! Staring at the blade of the transfer shovel, Tim knew that if he was going to escape this project, he was going to need to get his sister to hate him a lot less than normal.
    Good luck with that.

    Scott was folding laundry. His mom had said that he needed to keep himself busy all day, or she was going to come up with something far worse than anything he could possibly conceive of to do.
    The mood in the house had gone from wonderful, with the news of Carl’s new position and raise at work, to morose sadness. Scott’s mom was upset all the time, and even Carl looked down, as if he had finally started to come around on the idea of raising another man’s son but was now starting to reevaluate things. Scott felt bad for reasons he didn’t understand. Sure, he had stolen the gun and would have lied to the police, but all the stuff he was actually in trouble for lying about was true. His mom called down to him, interrupting the folding.
    “Carl just called. When he gets home from work, you two are going to work on the Olds.”
    Scott smacked the palm of his hand into his forehead. “All right.” He paused, trying to think of a way to get out of being alone with Carl. “Doesn’t Hooper usually help Carl out with that stuff? It’s not like I know anything. I’ll probably just piss him off even more than he already is.”
    “I’m sure you’ll do fine. As for Hooper, Carl says he’s under the weather. Probably just being lazy, if you ask me. But none of that matters. You need to be done with whatever task you’re on when Carl gets home, got it?”
    Scott sighed loudly, but not loudly enough for her to hear upstairs. “Yes, Mom. I got it.” It was only 2:10. Today is going to last forever.
    When Carl came home, Scott went out to meet him. “It’s going to be a minute,” said Carl. “I need to get out of these clothes. I’m not going to ruin work shit working on that goddamn wrecker.”
    Scott nodded, watching as Carl walked inside. He began to pull plastic toolboxes from