chapter five

Excerpt from Rhiannon Mary Lougher's diary

'Bells on a whisper of a summer dream. Music. The sweet sounds that sooth the misgivings of the world. Listen, and you'll hear, for there is a difference between the two. Music tells a story, but a rare few know. These stories are always different; ironic, contradictory, hypocritical. They are like the pendulum of a clock, swinging from one extreme to the other. Why? Because these are the stories of Life.
Life is never smooth-sailing, never set on a nice, flat road. Life is a series of wild storms and almost impassable mountains. As is music. The stories music whispers in our ears are tales of Life, of the storms and mountains. It tells us whether the boat is sailing or sinking, whether the mountain road withers away or continues on. Music is a story of survival. Listen, and you will hear . . .'

~ * ~
May, 1998
Tulsa, Oklahoma
Tulsa Airport

"Run kids!" Walker Hanson yelled as the last of the two taxis had been emptied of people and luggage.
"What gate are we at Dad?" Isaac yelled back. "We have to check-in first guys," Taylor reminded them all, annoyed. He'd slept barely a wink the night before. Sleep had only come to him about 4:30am, when he was so tired the nightmare that had kept him awake couldn't reach him. Then he'd been wrenched from the oblivion about 2 hours later by Zac screaming that they'd all slept in, that the plane they were taking to New York left in half-an-hour. And that he'd better get up. Still half-asleep, he'd fallen off his bed. Laying on the cold floor, his slowly focusing eyes watched the Looney Tunes birds fly around his head and his protesting ears heard Zac screaming through the house to their parents' bedroom. The taxis had taken ages to get to their house. Just as they'd been ready to leave, Mackie'd realised he'd forgotten his Tickle-Me-Elmo. No later had Mackie come back then Jessie announced she needed to go to the bathroom, which of course set Avie and their Mom off. Why was it that whenever somebody mentioned the word 'bathroom', all the girls suddenly had to go? Add that to the list of things he'd never understand about girls!
"Walker, you go ahead, we'll follow you," Diana suggested. Quickly off-loading Mackie, Walker raced ahead towards the check-in desk.
"Taybear?" Mackie asked, pulling on Tay's red over-shirt, "Can you carry me?"
"Walk; you're not crippled,"
"Taylor!" Diana scolded him, very surprised. She'd noticed that Tay hadn't been his usual self lately. He had almost a perpetual frown these days, his temper was short and this wasn't the first time she'd seen him snap at his younger brothers and sisters. What was going on?

Taylor watched his Dad walk towards them. Bags in hand, ready to sprint for whatever gate, the Hanson family watched Walker. Diana raised an eye-brow in question, Walker shook his head.
"Sorry guys -" he began. Taylor cut him off.
"We missed the flight didn't we," it was a statement, not a question.
"Yeah, we did. Now guys, they -"
"Oh great!" dropping the bags he held, Tay collapsed into a chair, "Just great!" this was not turning out to be his day.
"Taylor -"
"Why not? We're late for almost everything else, hey, why not miss the flight altogether? Now there's a brilliant idea!" a small part of his brain cried out in horror at what he was saying, the rest was just too sick of it all to care.
'Just great, I'm getting voices in my head. Now I get to see what Rhee went through!' the thought was out before he could stop it. The pain embraced him almost like a friend.
"Hon, I can understand why you're upset. I'm sure everything'll be fine," sitting down beside him, Diana laid a comforting hand on her son's shoulder. Tay jerked his shoulder away as if he'd be burnt.
"What would you know?!" God, had he actually said that?! Too shocked to be angry, Diana just stared.
"Jordan Taylor, how dare you speak to your mother like that!!" Walker shouted. Tay glared at him. Walker stopped short. If looks could kill . . . who was this stranger that had taken over his son's body?

Then it died. Like a fire built too close to the ocean, it was swallowed and put out. The anger and hate in Taylor's eyes disappeared. He looked almost bewildered. He didn't know what had happened.
"I . . ." he glanced around. He didn't like the looks his family were giving him, "Excuse me a sec, I . . . um . . . I'm gonna go get . . . something to drink," and he quickly walked off. Staring after his brother, clueless, Zac turned back to his shocked parents.
"What on earth was that all about?" he asked no-one in particular. Zoë, who'd been sleeping soundly in her pram, gurgled, unaware of the scene that had just happened right under her little nose. Glad for the distraction, Jessie turned and gurgled back to her little sister.
"Mommy? What's wrong with Taybear?" Mackie asked around his thumb.
"I don't know hon," absently, Diana gathered the little boy into her lap, "I don't know," Walker took his wife's hand in reassurance. He looked towards Isaac. If anybody knew anything about this, Ike would. Avoiding looking at his parents, Ike unconsciously bit his thumb-nail.
"Ike?" he didn't answer, "Ike?"
"Yeah?"
"Do you know what's going on with Taylor?"
"I . . . uh . . . well . . ."
"What?"
"I . . ."
"Tay's not in any trouble is he?"
"I don't know," it was the most honest answer Ike could give. His parents looked each other in the eye and then turned to him.
"Ike, what's wrong with him?" Diana asked, earnest and concerned. Sighing, Ike sat down; there was no getting out of this.
"I think you better sit down Dad . . ."

~ * ~
Late November, 1995
Tulsa, Oklahoma

Red gloved hands patted down the last handfuls of snow. Stepping back, dark eyes scanned the sculpture. Perfect. Smiling, Rhiannon looked upon her snowman again. She'd cut school for the fourth day in a row. It still amazed her that nobody ever noticed. She could skip months if she wanted to and not get caught. All the bull they were teaching, she already knew. Surprisingly, she'd been planning on returning to school today. And then it'd snowed. What idiot went to school when it'd just snowed? Lately, she'd been spending a lot of time at Rhododendron Park; that's where she was now. Two smooth round pebbles became the eyes, a fairly small carrot (stolen from a half-melted snowman along the way) became the nose and broken twigs made up his enormous smiling mouth. Pulling out a ratty White Sox baseball cap (stolen from the same half-melted snowman), she gently put it on her snowman's head. Again, she stood back and studied her work of art. Slowly, a wicked grin crept onto her face. Quickly checking to see that no-one was watching, she ran to the nearest tree and ripped off some of its bark. She tore it into long strips and - carefully lifting the White Sox cap - pressed it onto the snowman's round head. Now he looked more familiar.
"Hi Tay! How are you? Cold? Well surprise, surprise! . . ."

She talked to the snow-Taylor for the rest of the morning. People stared at her strangely as they walked past - one person even had the nerve to ask her why she wasn't in school - but she didn't care. They say talking to yourself is the first sign of madness;
'Been there, done that' she thought bitterly.
'Are you so sure you're the mad one? They're all mad, and you're the only one sane . . .' the Voices were melodic and beautiful. Dangerously beautiful.
'No,' her protest was weak, her defences half-broken; the Voices had pounced while she was down. The guys at school had attacked her again. Not physically; they wouldn't dare for fear of Carlton. No, they attacked her emotionally, chipping away at her fragile mental state. Soon she'd be taken back to Dr. Polanski, who promised her he'd make everything better, all the while tirelessly trying to convince her parents that she needed electroshock therapy. She hated him. She hated the bastards at school. She hated them all. Hated them!!
'They'll try to make you one of them. Come with us before it's too late!' the Voices beckoned. Yearning, yet refusing, to go with them, she sunk into the snow and fought. She pushed them back with everything she had. Taunting her, the Voices retreated, crying,
'You can't fight us forever! We are millions, you are but one. You can't fight us forever! . . .' They were right; she wasn't strong enough to fight them forever. One day she'd have to surrender; she wouldn't be able to help it. One day, she'd slip back into the paradise, which became the living hell, which became the unimaginably terrifying vortex. That 'one day' scared her half to death!

Walking around the snow covered foot-paths, Rhiannon slowly made her way to Elisabette's house. She already knew Liz wouldn't be home, but what the hell, she needed something to do. Maybe she'd be lucky and Liz would be home, for some strange, unexplainable reason. The snow crunched underneath the soles of her boots. Too absorbed in her own thoughts, she didn't hear the soft footfall coming up behind her. SPLAT!
"That'll teach for not paying attention!"
"You are gonna pay for that Taylor Hanson!" Rhiannon scraped the remains of the snowball out of her hair. Her smile was sly and mischievous. Slowly, she walked forward, locking her eyes with his. As she came forward, Taylor went back. He felt almost as if he were in a trance. Hypnotised. He couldn't break that stare, just kept moving backwards . . .
It was working! It was a little trick she'd perfected. Just stare blankly at someone and they won't be able to help staring back. It didn't work on everyone, but it was certainly working now . . .
He watched as she quickly ducked down and grabbed a handful of snow. The second she broke the stare, the thought 'Where the hell am I going?' flashed through his mind. Realising what she was doing, he turned and ran . . .
The snow chilled her hand, even through her thick gloves. Poor Tay he was in for it now! Nobody could outrun her; she had the trophies to prove it . . .
Crunching snow came closer and closer behind him. His shoulders were tense, waiting for the blow . . . waiting for the hit . . . 'For Pete's sake, throw the thing!' . . . the footsteps came closer . . .
She grabbed him by the collar and shoved the handful of snow down his back.
"WHOOOOOAAAAAA!! Shit! That's freezing!!" he twisted this way and that, desperately trying to get away from the snow. His contortions had Rhiannon in stitches! She doubled over and leaned against a telegraph pole, laughing herself senseless. It as all she could do to stay on her feet!
"Teach you -" she stammered between fits of laughter, "To - interrupt me when - when I'm thinking!" the snow fell to the ground, and Taylor re-tucked his shirt, mock-annoyed.
"Kill - you - Rhee!" he managed to get out, forcing himself not to laugh. She ran. "Oh no you don't!" his shouting wasn't going to stop her; he ran as well.

Hell, but that girl was fast! Didn't she ever get tired? While was literally falling over his feet, Rhiannon looked no more exhausted than if she'd walked out her front door to get the mail. They'd been running for ages. He'd always thought of himself as an athletic person, but the way he was going now made him feel like a couch potato who hadn't gotten up off his arse for years! The salt on the wound was that he'd been bested by a girl!
"Come on! You're not giving up are you?" she shouted back to him. Too short of breath to answer, or to even think if an answer, he just forced himself to run. Through eyes too tired to focus, he saw a blackish, blurred spot, silhouetted against the blinding white of snow. Where was she going now?

Turning down the dead-end street, Taylor came up short. Even through the haze of tiredness, he could see what lay beyond. Rhiannon walked in the gates without the slightest hesitation.
"Hurry up Tay!" he however, obviously had more subconscious superstitions than she did. Hesitantly, he approached the gate. Not even the blanket of snow and stark bare trees could hide what that fence contained.
"What's wrong? You're not scared are you?" she asked, not unkindly.
"Scared? Me? No way," still he didn't go through the gate. He excused it as exhaustion.
"It's just a cemetery Tay,"
"I know that," he didn't follow her as she took a few steps. Turning back, she laughed.
"Don't be such a wimp!" he didn't move, "Oh Taylor!" running back she grabbed him by the arm and practically dragged him in. Too tired to protest, he concentrated on putting one foot after the other.

He was shivering. He told himself it was from the cold. Rhiannon walked a few steps ahead, assured of where she was going. She didn't even glance at the headstones that he couldn't help but stare at.

'In loving memory of Gladys Mitchell.
Departed this life 27th August, 1989.
Aged 68 years'

'R.I.P. Angus Daniels.
Born December 2nd, 1969.
Died February 14th, 1985.
The sweet harps of Heaven await thee.'

'Remember Wilbur Harold Kennedy.
Died as a result of war wounds,
Apr. 20th, 1973; 28 years.
Lest we forget.'

'Sweet Remembrances of Bonnie McGann.
Loving daughter of Sarah and William McGann
Died: 11th October, 1960
Born: 3rd January, 1954'
Tay stopped and stared.
'That poor little girl. Only six years old,'
He thought of Avie. What would happen if she died?
"C'mon Tay, let's go. Unless you want to stay in this depressing place,"
"But if we're not . . . where are we going?"
"You'll see, but it's definitely not here," tugging lightly on his hand, she guided him away from the aging headstone of little Bonnie McGann.
"Do you know what happened to her?" Tay asked suddenly, realising what a stupid question it was the second it left his lips. Rhiannon turned to look at him.
"Was I around in 1960?"
"Well . . . no, but -" despite the cold, he was blushing
"She ran out onto the road after a ball. The driver didn't see her,"
"Oh,"
'How did she know?' he wondered.

'Poor Bonnie, she didn't stand a chance. Like you if you don't come with us . . .'
'No! Leave me alone. You've already taunted me with what happened to her! If I go with you, the same thing'll happen to me!'
'It's happening already! You don't belong in this world, this world doesn't provide for people like you. The world doesn't understand, but we do. Come . . .'
'No'
'With . . .'
'No!'
'Us . . .'
'NO!!'

They went right across the perimeter of cemetery, staying as far away as possible from the mourners and the headstones.
"Can't we walk by the fence?" Taylor had asked, eyeing the headstones.
"What would the spirits of the dead want with us?" Rhiannon had answered back, but had complied all the same. Wasn't she even the tiniest bit afraid? As they approached the boundary, Rhiannon silently pushed him through a gap in the fence. About to protest, she slapped a hand across his mouth. Sure enough, he heard voices.
"That damn girl again. I'm sure I saw her here," the voice was adolescent male, half-way through the process of breaking.
"I'm sure I saw something crack in your skull. You don't need a permit to come to a cemetery, for Pete's sake!" this voice was middle-age male, and not a very happy one at that.
"But Mr. Walters -"
"Enough! You're on your last warning. Now get back to shovelling this snow, God knows I pay you too much as it is," the middle-aged man walked away, the teenager walked in the opposite direction, grumbling something along the lines of 'Trust me to get stuck working at a cemetery!'. Gesturing for him not to say a word, Rhiannon took her hand away from Taylor's mouth and then gestured for him to follow her. As silently as he could, he did.

A corrugated iron shed came into view.
"What is this place?"
"You've got a tree-house in your backyard right?"
"Yeah but -"
"Well, this is my tree-house," Approaching with obvious caution, Rhiannon went up to the door and tapped lightly the rhythm of 'Swing Low Sweet Chariot'. The door opened a crack, then the whole way. An almost toothless old lady in a tattered coat and scarf stood at the door. She reminded Taylor of a witch he'd once seen in a movie.
"Rhiannon love! How is ya?" she smiled and hugged the girl. To Tay's surprise, Rhiannon hugged her back. If it was him, he probably would have screamed and run away. Homeless people always looked so scary to him.
"I'm all right Rose, how are you?"
"Oh, me old bones are creakin' with this cold, but I'll survive," She peered over Rhiannon's shoulder, "Looks like you brought yourself a friend along,"
"Yeah, Rose, this is Taylor; Taylor, this is Rose," hesitantly, he approached the old lady.
"Hello ma'am. Nice to meet you," he forced a polite smile. Rose cackled with laughter. It scared Tay so much, he practically dived behind Rhiannon.
"By the Saints girl, I think your little friend here's scared of old Rose!"
"I can't understand why," Rhiannon answered, slightly embarrassed, pushing Tay in front of her.
"I . . . uh . . ."
"It's all right lad. I don't bite. Not unless I'm tempted to anyway," she laughed at the look on the boy's face.
"Don't tease him Rose," that flared Tay's pride a bit; Rhiannon had just spoken as if he were a two year old child!
"I meant no harm girl. Any friend o' yours is a friend o' mine!" she laughed again, revealing near toothless gums. "Well come in you two. Don't wanna freeze out there do you?" in less than two seconds flat, Tay had decided this woman wasn't so scary after all. She was actually kinda nice. He followed Rhiannon inside and Rose shut the door.

~ * ~
May, 1998
Tulsa, Oklahoma
Tulsa Airport

'I live in a cemetery . . . I live in a cemetery . . .' silverchair's 'Cemetery' was playing on his walkman. He didn't have a clue what radio station it was tuned to, and he didn't really care. All he heard was that one line. 'I live in a cemetery . . .'
Taylor was sitting in a quiet corner in the airport's food court, eating Macca's and trying to attract as little attention as possible. He looked at his watch; 7:42am. Was it still so early? There weren't that many people in the food court; at this hour, who'd pay for breakfast when they could get a free one on the plane? The girl at the counter had looked about as tired as he felt, she hadn't recognised him. She'd looked at him strangely though, when he'd ordered extra large fries and a cup of ice. Strange it may have been, but that's what he felt like eating. Yawning, the girl had just gotten the order, given him the wrong change and murmured,
"Enjoy your meal," he had to pity her. She'd said she'd worked all night; she looked about ready to collapse. Tay pushed his glasses up, annoyed at how they kept slipping down his nose. He only needed them for reading or watching TV, he never wore them anyway, but they made an okay disguise. It'd worked for Superman, hadn't it? These were his 4th pair, he was always losing them. Amazingly enough, he had remembered to bring them this trip. Watching the aeroplanes being taxied in and out of their hangers, he thought about the hours he, Rhiannon and Rose had spent huddled in that little shed. Rose had dug a small hole in the dirt floor, outlined it with rocks and turned it into a tiny fireplace. They'd sat around it, warming their hands as Rose told stories about when she was younger. Rhiannon had visited Rose for years, bringing her small amounts of food in the summer, with the addition of matches in the winter. After Rhiannon had . . . had . . . he'd taken over the role of being Rose's pseudo-provider and companion, but she hadn't lasted long. Just before 'MMMBop' had been released, he'd gone to her shed and found it empty. Everything was gone. He never found out what had happened to Rose, but he knew she was dead. Strange that, he just knew. Occasionally he went back to the shed, but he never stayed long. Too many memories.
'Ironic. Everybody who was in that shed besides me is dead'. Too many memories.
'I live in a cemetery . . . I live in a cemetery . . .'
'Fitting.' he stared out the huge glass wall once more.

Weaving through the labyrinth of tables, Zac scanned the occupied ones for his brother. Trust him to get asked to go find his psychopath brother! What was wrong with the guy? Why didn't he just snap out of it? Tay occasionally had his off days, but this off day had lasted for months and looked like it had no intention of slowing down.

'Whats wrong with tay the guys acting like a freak he will probably turn into one of those psychopathic killers that go on a rampage in a mall and kill everyone and not know and get arrested and put in a mental hospital in greenland where hey i can smell maccas no wonder you idiot theres one just over there if tay ends up in a schitzo jail will we be allowed to visit him would we have to talk to him on a phone with nine inches of everything proof glass between me and ike could torture him force whatevers bugging him out and then he might be all right would it be like on the exorcist that movie was creepy or maybe tays turning into a witch like on the craft where that chick went crazy maybe tay could turn jessie and rachael into toads or rabbits like on bedknobs and broomsticks and that will teach them for playing practical jokes on me that would be so cool or god no maybe tays turning into that thing from the relic god no how would you kill him no i think tay should just go to a mental hospital in greenland he could talk to all the eskimos you are the only one whos crazy here zac if tay was gonna go crazy he would have done it years ago and spare us all the trouble now but if he was that thing from the relic then what the there he is!'

"Hey Tay!" Zac called out. Tay's head snapped in his direction and Zac flinched, for a second seeing the thing from The Relic. No, Tay just had his glasses on.
"Yes?" his tone was cold. Obviously, he didn't appreciate the interruption.
"I . . . um . . . Dad sent me to . . . I . . . err . . . the plane . . . are you turning into the thing from 'The Relic'?" that got a smile.
"What the hell are you talking about Prozac?"
"Dad sent me to tell you that they got us on another plane, and it leaves heaps soon, so you better hurry up," and Zac stole a few of his brother's fries.
"Hey! Piss off! If you're hungry get your own," a small scuffle of noise caught both their attention.
"Um, Tay? I think we better -"
"OH MY GOD!! OH MY GOD!!!" Too late.
"Oh hell!" shoving his fries at Zac to hold, Taylor grabbed his little brother's arm and ran. The crowd of girls chased after them, as expected. The screams shattered the murmuring quiet of the airport.
"Holy -!" Zac shouted and ran as fast as his legs would go, about two centimetres behind Tay. The two boys fled the food court. But these were persistent fans; they weren't going to give up so easily. Swearing enough to contest a sailor, Taylor knocked over a business man on a cell phone who obviously hadn't seen - or had ignored - them.
"Sorry!" He called over his shoulder, but didn't stop; he kept running, pulling Zac along behind him. Pushing people out of the way as they raced up the escalator, Zac tripped.
"Get up Zac!"
"I can't, my damned shoelace is caught!"
"Fucking hell!" The middle-aged woman standing beside them gasped in horror, they both ignored her. The crazed group of girls were at the bottom of the escalator, trying to get up to them.
"Help me dammit!!" Zac shouted, desperately yanking at his caught shoelace. Thinking fast, Tay whipped out his pocket knife and quickly sawed through the lace. Quick as a flash, they were up and running.
"Where's Mom and Dad?"
"Gate 4,"
"That's exactly where we're not going then,"
"What?!" Zac couldn't believe his ears. Maybe Tay really was insane!
"Do you want to lead them right to our family? They'll eat us alive!" and Tay gave Zac's arm another vicious tug. Zac was too frightened to notice. They ran. And ran. And ran.
"All right boys, just where do you think you're going?" they were stopped by a burly security guard.
"Sir, please, we -"
"Running isn't permitted in this airport -"
"Tell that to them!!" Zac shrieked before racing away, Taylor hot on his heels. The security guard's eyes bulged as he saw the crazed rabble of teenagers. He put the walkie-talkie to his lips.
"Frank, I'm going to need every man you can spare in sector seven, third floor. I've got a near riot happening here!"

Zac and Tay didn't stop running until they saw the fluoro-yellow vested security guards holding back the enormous crowd of girls.
"That was a close one," Zac murmured. Taylor just looked at him. A security guard approached them.
"Okay boys, you've just earned yourself an escort to whatever gate you need to get to,"
"Four," Zac answered. Taylor thumped him on the shoulder. "Ow!" and Zac thumped him back.
"Shut-up you!" grumbling at the injustice of being twelve years old, Zac stuck his bottom lip out and sulked,
"Look mister," Tay begun, as politely as he could, "We appreciate the offer, but we should be all right now. An escort'll probably just attract more attention," the security guard looked a little suspicious, but the boy was right. Who wouldn't notice the fluoro-yellow vests?
"Well, if you're sure -"
"We're sure," quickly, Tay answered and turned to leave, dragging Zac behind him.

"I did tell Zac Gate 4, didn't I?" Walker looked to his wife for reassurance.
"Yes Walker, you did," Diana took her husband's hand.
"Well then where are they?"
"Probably getting mobbed," Ike murmured, gently bouncing a fussing Zoë on his knee. Tay's mood seemed to be affecting everyone. Walker shot him a warning glance. That wasn't a topic to joke about! All the 'getting mobbed' gags had ceased when they'd done the Hard Rock Café in Indonesia. Now that had been scary! Equal, if not worse than, Paramus Park Mall!
"What time does the plane leave Mom?" Jessie asked. She and Avie were lying on the floor, combing their Barbies' hair.
"In about twenty minutes,"
"Why can't we go through customs?" Avie asked. She was so bored!
"We have to wait for your brothers,"
"If they ever get here," that comment earned Ike another stern glance from his father.
"BRRRROOOOOMMMMMM!" Mackie pushed his toy trucks around on the floor.

"Come on Zac! Hurry up!" furiously looking for Gate 4, Taylor gave Zac's arm another painful yank.
"Would you stop pulling on my arm!" Zac yelled, rubbing the red marks left by his brother's fingers.
"Well hurry up! God you're so slow!"
"You're just getting us lost! You haven't got a clue where we're going have you?"
"Shut-up, I know exactly where we're going!"
"Well for you information, we went straight passed Gate 4 ages ago!" Taylor rounded on his brother.
"Then why the hell didn't you tell me?!"
"What do you think I've been trying to tell you?! But no you just kept pulling me after you, getting us lost!" Zac's shouting was starting to draw attention to them.
"Keep your voice down, would you?"
"FINE!!" he yelled as loud as he could.
"OH MY GOD!!!"
"Now look what you've done!!" Tay shouted over the noise and raced back the way they'd come.

"Right, I'm going to look for them," sick of waiting, Walker got to his feet and started for the door, back to the main terminal. The familiar sound of high-pitched squeals and screams stopped him. A quick glance back at Ike - whose eyes were wide as saucers - proved what he already suspected. None of them would ever forget that sound. The heavy door to the main terminal suddenly sprang open. Two figures ran in and slammed it shut again. The taller of the two slid down the wall to the floor. A few looks were passed around before the whole Hanson family - except Mackie, still absorbed in his trucks - ran over to Taylor and Zac.
"Zac, what took you so long?" Diana asked, concern lacing her voice.
"Oh, what would I know? Ask Mr. Perfect here, he's the one who knows everything!" Walker frowned disapprovingly at the heavy sarcasm in Zac's voice.
"Excuse me Your Imperial Majesty, but it wasn't me that nearly got us mobbed!"
"Oh yeah? Well if you hadn't -"
"Enough Zac," the warning glance was being directed at him, but Zac didn't heed it.
"But Mom! He's -"
"I said enough!"
"It's not fair! You always take his side! Every time! Even now, when he's going crazy! Owww!!" Zac shrieked; Taylor had kicked him.
"Quit it the both of you! Zac, if you're going to behave like a two year old, you can go and sit with Mackie. You might learn a few manners from him,"
"Did you just go temporarily blind Mom?! He just kicked me!"
"Don't talk to your mother like that Zac, now go," Walker's voice left no room for argument. Sulking, Zac stalked over and threw himself into a chair. Tay stared at his parents, waiting for the tongue-lashing that he knew was coming.
"Tay," Diana began. To his surprise, her voice was soft, "The plane leaves in about half an hour, so could you make sure all your bags are here? It's good to see you wearing your glasses; at least we know you haven't lost them!" Tay could only stare in amazement as his Mom smiled. Where were the lectures? Where was the yelling? The anger? He'd just kicked his little brother, and they were smiling? Something was up!
"I . . ."
'Hold on a sec you idiot! You're actually going to ask for another lecture?'
Without a word he got up and went to his bags. Plenty of time to figure out what the hell had just happened on the plane.

New York City, New York

Walking into the ritzy Royal Park hotel, Tay readjusted the heavy bag on his back and looked around the foyer. The crystal chandelier was enormous, the paintings on the walls were probably twice as expensive as they looked, and the people, walking around in their designer casual day clothes with their noses up almost as high as their haughtiness, made him feel rather out of place to say the least. His baggy jeans and black 'I Killed Kenny' T-shirt were earning him more disgusted glances than he cared to acknowledge. He'd never get used these posh places. He adjusted his backpack again. It was so heavy! Who would have thought books could weigh so much!
"Bit heavy is it?" Walker asked, coming up to him.
"A just a bit," he smiled a little.
"Here, I'll carry it," Tay whirled around and stared, wide-eyed, at his Dad. What had he just said? The whole plane trip, his family had been nice as pie to him. Too nice. They never treated him like this. They were all acting as if he was the president, and they were his yes-men. The only time he ever got anything near that was on his birthday, or when he was sick. He'd refused to talk to Zac, snapped at Avie, constantly insulted Isaac, totally ignored Mackie, and his parents had practically applauded him. No, something as up.
"What did you just say?"
"I'll carry it," shaking his head, Taylor took a few steps back.
"What's going on?" he whispered.
"Pardon?" Walker asked, confused.
"What the hell is going on?!" he shouted. The look in his father's eyes told Tay he'd been right; something was up. Something he wasn't going to like one bit. Turning back, Walker caught Diana's eye. The antelope had scented the lion. Staring, Taylor watched his Mom come forward to take his Dad's hand. Dread filled him. This was getting worse by the second. He didn't like the look in Diana's eyes either.
"Mom, why are you all treating me like this? What the hell is going on?!"
"Well, Tay . . ."

* * * *

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