Second in Command Read online

  THE FRIEND THAT KNOWS YOU ALL TOO WELL

  You okay today? Dave asks. You seem, I dunno, somewhere else. Dave and I met at cub scout camp. My mom got stationed here twice. Good news for old friends. We met at the shooting range. BB guns. Airsoft. Archery. I don’t remember which one. It was all about the target. Eyes on the target, they would say. Focus. Now Dave hunts. I stick to the virtual enemy. The one on my game screen. No blood. No mess. Not yet. I’m okay, I say. Up late, that’s all. My eyes scan back and forth across the room. All the different groups. It feels like we’ve broken into smaller pieces. Each group their own island. Dave waits. He doesn’t believe me. He knows there’s more. Do you know a girl named Zen? I ask. Giving up. Giving in. Blue hair? Pretty?Korean? he asks. I nod. Her? He points. Laser-sharp eye. Focused. My heart thuds. Her.

  FRIENDLY

  They say a scout should be friendly. A skill I would like to improve. It isn’t easy for me to speak up, and even harder to make the first move..

  NAVY TOWN

  She’s new I think, Dave says. Military. It isn’t a question around here. Families come and go. The locals know not to get too close. Not Dave. Maybe he knew I’d be back. But we’ll leave again before I graduate. Are they on the ship? he asks. Is that how you know her? Something like that, I say. Go say hi. He shoves me out of the chair. It squeaks. Loudly. I’m trying.

  PEOPLE STARE

  I try to pretend that no one saw me fall out of the chair. That when I look up they will all be eating. They will all be talking to each other. For two seconds the room is quiet. I feel their eyes on me. Then the buzz returns. And I am safe. But not quite.

  LEARNING TO BREATHE

  Zen stands at our table. I am still halfway between the chair and the floor. She says, Hi. Leo, right? I didn’t mean to give you such a fright. Oh gosh, forgive my constant rhyme it doesn’t happen all the time. She breathes in and out. Hands above her head, down by her side shake, shake. I’m Zen. From the meeting? Sometimes I rhyme when I’m nervous. Breathe in. Breathe out. I think maybe you get tongue-tied? I stare. Yes. Try this. She holds my arms, lifts them over my head, lets them go. Deep breath. In and out. How about now? she asks. I smile. My brain finally works. Thanks, I say..

  PART OF ME

  Part of me has a crush on Zen. She’s cute and bold and not afraid to admit her flaws. And she even gave me her number. Part of me wants to be her friend. So she can teach me how to not be afraid.

  BACK TO REALITY

  Lunch ends. School ends. Home waits for me. What will it bring today.

  DINNER, PART ONE

  Reina made dinner. Mom’s apron around her waist. Tiny body propped on the kitchen stool. Sandwiches, she announces. Her voice proud. Meats and cheeses laid out neatly on paper plates. Will you cut the bread? Of course, I say. Kiss her on the top of her head. Tighten the apron string. Dad comes home early. He grins when he sees the sandwiches. Pulls out a jar of pickles from the fridge. Made fresh by our friends back East. Reminds me of home, he says, after he takes a big bite.

  HOME

  When you move somewhere new every few years. When your family is from a place you’ve never seen. You don’t really know where to call home.

  DINNER, PART TWO

  We eat. Dad tells stories from his childhood. He tells us how he came to the United States from Cuba. Alone and afraid. How he was taken in by a foster family. He tells us the story of how he met Mom. How he watched her play soccer. Worried he would never have the nerve to talk to her. And thank God I did, he says. Or there would be no you, or you, or you. He points to each of us in turn. Jack laughs. It’s not the first time Dad has told this story. Not the first time he has lied. We know it was Mom who talked first, Jack says. When she kicked the ball out of bounds and knocked the wind outta you. Dad grins. Shakes his head. We all start to laugh. Picture Mom in her soccer uniform, mud on her knees, smiling at Dad. Saying she’s sorry. Man, do I miss her, Dad says. And we all stop laughing.

  THAT’S THE THING

  The moment you start to feel happy. Like everything is going along the way it should. You remember what’s missing.

  GOOD COP, BAD COP

  I’m going out, Jack says as we clean up. On a school night? Dad says. He looks at me. Like I’m the one who should be saying no. Like I’m the parent here. Jack’s eyes meet mine. I hear his silent plea. Want to be the cool big brother. The one who doesn’t care. The one who doesn’t worry. My mouth opens. Closes. Is your homework done? Dad asks. Jack nods. A lie. Mom gave me her password. I’ve seen his grades online. Know he’s falling behind. I suppose, Dad starts. Math test? I say. Don’t you have to study? The air in the room is thick. Some other night, Dad says. Thanks, Leo. Jack huffs. Yeah, thanks for nothing. He storms upstairs. How did we get here?

  WHO DIED?

  I knock on Jack’s door. Three times. knock knock knock Wait. Nothing. knock knock knock Go away. Wait. Who died and left you in charge? Who died and left you in charge. The words echo in my ears like gunfire.

  TOE THE LINE

  I speak into Jack’s door. He ignores me. Can I come in? What’s going on with you? You’re just mad because you know Dad says yes and Mom always says no. I’m not trying to replace her. But someone has to be the bad guy. Someone has to keep the peace, maintain order. Be Responsible.

  INSTINCT

  When you know your brother will wait for everyone to fall asleep. Then he will do whatever it is he does to hold his heart together.

  MESSAGE

  Back in my room, I text Zen. I want to tell her what’s on my mind. Mom. Jack. And all the rest. I want to tell her how happy I am that we met. I want to tell her she’s pretty, and I like her smile. Instead the text reads: What’s up.

  WHO WE ARE

  We text back and forth in the idle way people do. She asks about my family. I ask what it’s like at her house. She’s an only child. No one to watch over. No one to worry about. No one to wait with her. It’s her dad who’s gone. Mom works part-time. Home every night. They watch TV together and do puzzles. It sounds nice. But Zen says she is lonely. People tease her about rhyming when she’s nervous. I like it, I tell her. You don’t think I’m weird? Of course you’re weird. That’s what I like. She laughs, Hahahaha. I tell her about Jack. Say he’s on a bad path. She tries to tell me it will all work out. Maybe it’s for attention. Maybe he’s hurting. Be a big brother. It’s what you do well.

  COURTEOUS

  When you see someone struggle to open a door or cross the street. You hold out your hand. You help them out. It’s what you do. It’s what you do well.

  I KNEW THIS WOULD HAPPEN

  Jack is not in his room. Window open. Cold air. Cold air in my bones like ice. Like that time we camped on the frozen lake. Bodies tucked into zero-degree sleeping bags. Listening to the wind howl against our tents. Jack’s first year in boy scouts. His only year. Leo, man, it’s not for me. He called me that even back then. When I was only. Barely a man. I knew I wanted to stay in scouts. Knew being outside, being connected, was where I belonged. I wanted my brother to feel that, too. Wanted us to be together. Wanted to keep him under my wing.

  WONDER

  I wonder where my brother went. Wonder what mess I’ll need to clean up tomorrow.

  IT WILL ALL WORK OUT

  Sleep doesn’t come. It mocks me with its promises. I didn’t tell Dad that Jack left. I didn’t try to find my brother. Zen said it will all work out. Her words roll in my head like loose marbles.

  IN THE MORNING

  We are all fine. A happy family minus Mom. Eating eggs, leftover ham, black coffee. Me. Dad. Reina and Sharky. Jack. Two of us look like we’ve been up all night.

  NOT NORMAL

  There is a rough edge to Jack. As if someone scraped his skin away. And now the bones are free to feel the fresh air. I want to ask him where he was. Does Dad see the way Jack’s fingers twitch? Does he see the darkness under my eyes? Something isn’t right. Am I the only one who feels it.

  7 TH FLEET

/>   Dad reads the paper every morning. Shares the comics with Reina. Gives the sports section to Jack. I study the obituaries. Not because I like to think about death. I like to think about life. What did each person leave behind? What made them who they were? Today, we all focus on the front page. Headlines about the conflict in Asia. The 7th Fleet: Ships, aircraft, and personnel that monitor the Pacific Ocean. The 7th Fleet: Ready to respond. The 7th Fleet: Mom.

  INNOCENCE

  Reina does not understand words like nuclear and missile and threat. I want to be that innocent.

  OPERATIONS SECURITY

  Dad must read our minds. Your mother is fine, he says. I talked to her last night. She can’t say much. You know, OPSEC. We know. Operations Security. It means Mom can’t talk about where she is or what she is doing. Because it could put her in danger. It could put us in danger. I read the headline again. There are forces beyond our control that could put the world in danger.

  WORDS LEFT UNSAID

  Jack slams his plate in the sink and mumbles something under his breath. Dad says not to swear in front of Reina. Jack looks at me, waiting. We can’t just sit here, he says. Dad shakes his head. There’s nothing we can do. Maybe not there. But here. I have no idea what Jack means. But I am afraid to ask.

  FEAR

  We all leave the house. And I can’t shake the feeling that something is wrong.

  THE OTHERS

  I sit on the bus, head pressed against the window. Think about the others. Other kids who miss their mom or dad. Our town is full of them. Sometimes you can tell by the look in their eyes. The sadness that grows like mold. Sometimes you can tell by the clothes they wear. Red, white, and blue. Pride in our country. Mostly you can tell by the stiffness in their spine. The way they seem to be always on alert.

  WHAT HAPPENED

  At school, police cars are parked out front. I look for Dave and find him near the flagpole. Wind whips the flag. Makes a snapping sound. What’s going on? I ask. He shrugs. We file into school. The uniforms make me stand straighter, walk taller. Yellow caution tape lines the hallway. The science lab, someone says. Whispers turn to shouts. Teachers work to calm the students. They try to prevent chaos from snaking through the hallways. A crowd gathers. Dave and I get closer, closer, until I see it. I see what happened.

  SOMEONE SMASHED THE BEAKERS IN THE SCIENCE LAB

  Tiny bits of glass break the light into a million sparkly pieces. Each one speckling the smooth black tables. Liquid spills down onto the floor in quiet rivers. The policeman in the doorway stands silent. The crowd behind me builds. What the— Who did— Ah, man— Someone’s gonna fry. The door swings on its hinge. It makes a sound like a distant swing set. Pieces of the glass window form a pattern near our feet. Blood. There is blood in the glass. Whoever did this will be found. Whoever did this will pay.

  VOICES

  The voices shout. Step away, step away. Get to class. Move along. Teachers. Police officers. Hall monitors. Voices of authority. Keeping us safe. Keeping us in the dark.

  A QUESTION

  School is where you go to feel safe. But what happens when it becomes a place of fear?

  KIND

  I will be the person who makes sure no one is cut by the glass. Who offers to help calm other students down. I will not be the person who stares and points. Who looks at classmates and wonders which one of them is guilty.

  WHAT HAPPENS NEXT

  We are called down to the office one by one. To find out who knows anything. To find clues. Someday I will be the one asking questions. I will be the one fighting for justice.

  WHAT I LEARN

  Whoever did this had a reason. A purpose. There are chemicals missing. Words whispered in the hallway. Bomb. Attack. Terror. Panic swims in the air like a shark.

  WHAT IF

  No. I cannot allow myself to think it.

  EVERYONE IS QUIET TONIGHT

  We sit in a circle in the family room folding laundry. Mountain of socks like a campfire at the center. Reina wears Dad’s pajama bottoms on her head. Always the clown. Someone, I start. Someone broke... My eyes meet Jack’s. He looks away. Shoves his hands into his pockets, stands up. Broke what? Reina asks. Her pajama bottom pigtails swing back and forth between me and Jack, me and Jack. Jack backs out of the room. Broke what? she asks again. Nothing, I say.

  WHY WOULD YOU LEAVE?

  If you had nothing to hide.

  ARGUMENT

  My gut says: Follow your brother. Confront him. Find out what he knows. If he was involved. My heart says: Leave him be. Trust him. You’re jumping the gun. The noise is too loud. My brain can’t decide.

  TRIO OF SADNESS

  Leo? Reina’s voice breaks the chaos in my head. Broke what? she asks. A third time. I don’t want to lie to her. Listen, I say. It’s okay. I pull her onto my lap. Take off her pajama hat. She leans her head into me. Someone at my school went into the science lab. They weren’t supposed to. Glass broke. It wasn’t safe to walk. Are you okay? she asks. Her eyes like big, round buttons. I nod. Is Jack? He looked mad. I hold her close, smell the apple shampoo in her hair. He misses Mom. That’s all, I say. Me too. Me three.

  MOM WOULD KNOW WHAT TO DO

  She is the one who keeps us on the straight and narrow.

  THE BEACH

  The first time we lived here it was just me and Jack. No Reina. Mom and dad took us to a beach along the Sound. Let us stick our toes in the cold water. We chased scurrying crabs. Ran our fingers along the backs of sea stars. Watched clams disappear down sandy holes. Jack walked further down the tide pool. I watched his tiny body hunch over the water. He shouted for me to come over. To see what he had found. I followed his finger. Jack had spotted a sea urchin. Shiny black spikes in every direction. He wanted to touch it. Mom had told us it was okay to touch the animals. Two fingers, she said, and be gentle. Jack’s fingers stood ready, his face lit with joy. Isn’t it cool? he asked me. It looks kinda sharp, I said. Maybe we shouldn’t touch it. Jack reached into the water. I didn’t know much about poison. But I had enough sense to know the animal didn’t want to be touched. I grabbed my brother by the waist and pulled him away. We both fell into the water with a splash. Boys! Mom yelled. Rushed over to us. Jack began to cry. Mom took him in her arms. She looked at me, her face anger and punishment. Leo? she said. Waited for an explanation. I could have told her I was trying to keep him safe, to keep him from getting hurt. Could have told her about the sea urchin. But I didn’t. I’m sorry, I said. It was just an accident. Just an accident.

  OBEDIENT

  To follow the rules. To do what I’m told. To stay on the path. To maintain order. To mind my manners. To wait my turn. To step up. To keep in line. To obey.

  SUPPORT GROUP

  Tuesday comes. Worries about Jack leave my mind if only for a quick second. Not as if things are calm in a group waiting to hear from their families. People sit on the edge of their chairs like dogs waiting for a treat. A treat that may kill them. Zen pats the chair next to her. As if we’d been coming here for weeks. As if we’ve settled into the way things always go. Can you believe what happened at school? Whoever did it must be a fool. To risk getting caught— such a shame. Do you think they’ll figure out who’s to blame? She smiles. Her fingers find my arm. A gentle squeeze wakes my body in new ways. It takes time to find my voice. The fear of truth in my throat like a stone. My brother laughs with his new friends. Whispers. High fives. It doesn’t take much for it all to sink in. Zen waits. Yeah, I say. One word. All I can breathe out. Pink sweater woman claps twice. She’s in blue today. American flag pinned over her heart. Let’s begin, she says.

  AFTER THE MEETING

  I am not the only one who put the pieces together. When we get home, cop cars line the street.

  VISITORS

  Two officers follow us to our front door. I want them to be there for me. To tell me I made it into the summer academy. But they are not here for that. They are here to search.

  THE SEARCH

 
The officers search. Dad follows. He tries to stay quiet. They spend a long time in Jack’s room. I see the veins in Dad’s arms throb with blood. His face a rosy red. Jack’s face is white.