The Lake [Part 2]

“I’m coming to collect today,” Pete said.

That was what the cashier heard him say, and she didn’t know what it meant. She said Kyle didn’t reply, or if he did, she didn’t hear it. Or maybe she knew more, just like we all knew more, and didn’t want to get on the wrong side of the Ryan brothers.

My dad had gone to high school with them both, in the same year as Dean who was the oldest, and he said even back then they were raising hell all over town, making a name for themselves.

After Kyle left the Mobil, he came to ask my father for money. When he pulled in Dad and I were out in the garage, tightening the brakes in the car. We’d spent the last six months working on it. Just like he’d promised it would be, now that I could drive it was almost ready.

Kyle got out and my dad looked at him, something cold coming over his expression. He stood silent and waited.

“Can we talk?” Kyle asked him.

They headed inside to the kitchen. A minute later I followed and sidled up to the door, stood silent, hardly breathing. Dad was standing against the bench with his arms folded, Kyle in front of him with desperation sliding off him.

“Please, I wouldn’t ask you if I had anyone else to go to. I swear to God, I’ll pay you back. I just owe Pete for this car I bought off him...”

My father cut him off with a hard laugh. “That piece of shit you're driving’s not worth five hundred dollars let alone five thousand. You come here begging me for money at least have the guts not to lie about why.”

A liar was one of the things my father despised most. Almost as much as he did a man who would hit a woman. My sister’s boyfriend was both those things.

“Alright, but it’s not what it sounds like,” Kyle said, his tone thin and pleading. A way I’d never heard him speak to my sister. For her he’d never crawled. “I sold some pot for them, and I owe them money from it. It was only a one-time thing, I just got to get square with them.”

It was a version of the story I’d heard, which was that he’d been selling a long time for them. And he’d only skimmed a small amount, but they’d added interest.

Dad stood up straight from the bench, and even though he was the same size as Kyle he seemed to loom over him.

“You want me to fix your mess now? What sort of man are you?”

It was a question both asked and answered in his scathing tone. A liar. A coward. The worst kind. I knew exactly what sort of man my father was, what he expected me to be. A man who was strong, who didn’t cry or complain, who took care of his family.

Then my dad spoke again. “I know what kind of trouble you’re in. I’ll pay the Ryan brothers off for you, and you leave town, leave my daughter. That’s the deal.”

Kyle made an odd noise, helpless and angry sounding. “You can’t just tell me to leave town.”

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