Backtracker (7 page)

"
Mom
!
"
Jeff snapped curtly.
"
Don
'
t
push
me! I said I
'
ll have to let you
know
, all right?
"

"
Hey!
Don
'
t talk to your mother like that,
"
ordered Dad, raising his voice.

"
I
'
m just trying to watch TV
here
!
"
flouted Jeff, flapping his hands at the set.
"
I can
'
t even hear what
'
s going on!
"

"
Calm yourself down,
"
Dad said threateningly.
"
You don
'
t need to get all bent out of shape just because we want you to do something with the rest of the family for once.
"

"
I
'
m not
getting
bent out of shape
!
"
hollered Jeff.
"
You
'
re
the one who
'
s getting bent out of shape!
"

As Jeff and Dad bickered, Dave sighed deeply and adopted a weary expression. Arguments between his brother and father happened often, and he was tired of listening to them. Though the fights were only shouting matches and never came to blows, they seemed to erupt every time that Jeff and Dad were in the same room for more than five minutes.

Since the age of fifteen, Jeff had grown progressively more rebellious;
he'd
always been high
-
strung and precocious, but after reaching fifteen,
he'd
become downright volatile. Willful and cranky and argumentative, he disputed every suggestion or request from the rest of the family with angry fervor. He resented every intrusion on his privacy and independence, overreacted to every question that his parents asked.

Despite his hot temper and moodiness, though, Jeff
wasn
'
t
really a bad kid. He sometimes made life miserable for the family, and he was awfully irresponsible, but Dave still liked him. Dave believed that Jeff was just at a difficult age, an age when touchiness and hostility were the norms; he recalled that when he himself had been sixteen,
he'd
behaved in much the same way, but had mellowed with time.

Dave sincerely believed that his brother would do likewise, that he would eventually straighten up and his better qualities would come to the forefront. Unfortunately, it
didn
'
t
seem likely that this change would occur in the near future.

It
definitely
wouldn
'
t
happen tonight.

"
I
told
you,
"
hollered Dad, leaning forward on the recliner.
"
You
'
re going
with
us!
"

"
Did
I
say I didn
'
t want to go
?
"
Jeff flung sarcastically.
"
No! All
I
said was that I don
'
t
know
if I can
make
it!
"

"
What else would you be doing on a weekday
?
"
barked Dad.
"
The only thing you
should
be doing then is going to school!
"

"
There, see? If I
'
ve got school,
then how am I gonna
'
go
with you guys? I
know
you don
'
t want me to skip a day of school!
"

"
We
'
ll go when you have a short Friday,
"
interjected Mom.
"
You
'
ll be done with school by noon, and then we
'
ll pick you up.
"

"
What if I have to work
?
"
asked Jeff.

"
You don
'
t even have a job
!
"
shouted Dad.

"
Not yet,
"
barked Jeff,
"
but I will!
I already
put my application in at a bunch of places in the Mall! You rather I don
'
t get a job,
just so I can go to State College with you guys?
"

"
Now you
'
re being ridiculous,
"
sighed Ann Heinrich, shaking her head.
"
Stop making such a big production out of this.
"

"
You
'
re
the ones who
'
re making a big
production
outta
'
this
!
"
Jeff yelled.

Though he
didn
'
t
want to get dragged into the fray, Dave finally spoke up.
"
Hey, look,
"
he said sharply.
"
I didn
'
t even say for sure that I could go! Nothing
'
s definite, Jeff!
"

"
Well, it
sounds
definite
!
"
lashed Jeff, his face flushed.
"
The way these
two
are talking, everything was settled before I could even say whether I wanted to go or not! You guys
always
do that to me!
"

"
What?
What
do we always do to you?
"
By now, Dad was furious, his usual amiable expression replaced by a fiery, tense grimace. He looked as if he was ready to leap from the recliner and sock his youngest son in the mouth (though of course
he'd
never directed such violence at his family and probably never would).

"
You tell me what I
'
m gonna
'
do before you even
ask
me about it
!
"
hurled Jeff, angrily yanking off his glasses.
"
It
'
s like it doesn
'
t
matter
what
I
think about anything!
"

"
That
'
s
crap
and you
know
it
!
"
snarled Dad.

"
See
?
"
bellowed Jeff, accusingly pointing a finger at his father.
"
That
'
s what I
'
m talking about! You never
listen
to me!
"

"
Oh, brother,
"
grunted Mom, rolling her eyes.

Finally deciding that
he'd
heard enough, Dave got to his feet and headed for the kitchen. As his brother and parents continued their combat, he scraped the chicken bones from his plate into the garbage. Opening the dishwasher, he placed the plate and silverware and glass on the racks inside.

As the living room ruckus escalated, Dave realized that he
didn
'
t
want to stick around for the rest of the festivities. If he stayed in the house for the remainder of the evening, he
wouldn
'
t
be able to concentrate on his studies; the thick atmosphere of tension would distract him, as would the noise of slamming doors and stomping feet.
He had
to abandon ship, seek a more hospitable and relaxing location, a place where he
wouldn
'
t
be trapped in close quarters with a bunch of angry people.

He decided to drive out to Billy
'
s trailer. As long as Billy wasn
'
t entertaining some girl, Dave could stop in and get some work done. Since he and Billy were in some of the same classes, they had the same exams to prepare for, so they could study together. They could drink some beer and eat some chips and compare notes, even shoot the breeze some, maybe plan the next party for the Wild West gang.

Dave left the kitchen and hurried through the living room, moving fast enough to keep from being drawn into the battle. He swept down the short hallway to his bedroom, tossed some books and notebooks into his blue knapsack. Next, he grabbed his keys from the desk and shouldered into his winter jacket. He flicked off the bedroom light and made his escape from the house without having to say more than a few words to his folks.

As he settled into his car, he felt immensely relieved. He really did care about his parents and brother, but on a night like this, he preferred to be far away from them...a fifteen
-
minute drive away from them, anyway.