A GOOD VIEW

 

PART ONE

 

CHAPTER ONE

 

HOME

 

 The moments in which one can really take the time to appreciate life are very rare. Life itself keeps us too busy to leave place for reflection.

 

 Though James Maschio usually sought those moments as often as he could, he still had to confess that, when he was finally able to do so, he'd realise of how much had passed without him taking notice of it.

 

 With his 25 years of age he already owed life a lot, feeling awfully thankful torth fate, having been more than kind to him those last few years.

 

 Sitting as he was on one of the two chairs he owned, in the not very spacious living room, he put aside the newspaper he'd been reading and took a moment to look around. It certainly wasn't much; the furniture was a mixture of the leftovers of their families’ houses and the little he'd been able to buy with his salary. Instead of making the small one bedroom apartment less personal, it made it homier; albeit not very stylish.

 

 The table in front of him, that served both as a dinner table and a desk, was rather cheap. As a kid he'd always dreamed of a big, dark...wooden table, like the one he remembered seeing on his grandparents' house. This one was of the cheapest wood and it hadn't even been varnished when he'd bought it- He remembered walking all over town looking for a varnish that would give it the exact shade he wanted without hurting his beaten pocket too much.

 

 A bookshelf that looked more like an office appliance decorated the left wall. James hated it with every fibre of his being, but he'd always dreamed with a library of his own. Little by little books had started to fill the shelves and, as in most cases, he could no longer recall which books where his and which were his wife's. Staring at that eclectic recollection of tittles reminded him of how much his life was entwined with Rebecca's.

 

 A number of pictures, paintings and ornaments decorated the walls and the shelves; be them souvenirs of trips they planned on doing on their old age, impersonal presents of some of their acquaintances or Becca's family treasures, that held more of an emotional value than anything else.

 

 He couldn't help to look at his home with affection. Though the apartment itself meant nothing to him, everything around him was the result of tremendous sacrifice and years spent in poverty. Finally he could see his life taking form and he felt happy, despite the problems.

 

 If the things around him gave him comfort, from the corner of his eye James could make out one that, though not unpleasant, it certainly reminded him of the most complicated part of his life. With a sigh he got up from his seat and observed the picture from a closer angle. The picture was worn out with time, but one could still make out the colours with certain clarity, which gave the image a melancholic aura.

 

 He could still remember it as it'd been yesterday. His aunt Elena, whom he considered a mother more than anything, had decided to take him and his brother to a friend's farm, so they could breathe some fresh air and gain some colour on their cheeks. He couldn't help but laugh at the memory of the woman's frustrated expression upon discovering that, to his younger brother, fresh air only gave him allergies and the only place where he gained colour was his nose.

 

 According to the picture, James couldn't have been older than ten years old. His clothes were covered in mud, but if the smile from ear to ear he was sporting was any indicator, he didn't mind one bit. His chin was lifted slightly, giving him a sort of smug appearance, and his arms hung loosely from Colin's shoulders. His little brother didn't seem to appreciate the gesture. His eyes had failed to focus on the camera; he was staring at James with a frown and a defiant look. With his four years of age, Colin was a few centimetres shorter than James, to say the least. He'd never been a particularly tall person, but at that specific time he'd been so slender and small that he looked even younger, which made the scene somewhat comic.

 

His recollection of their stay at the farm where very vivid. Though it had been a pleasant experience altogether, he couldn't shake the memory of what had happened that same day, mere hours after the picture had been taken.

 

His aunt had been inside the house, chatting amiably with the farm's owner's wife and preparing for that night's dinner, that promised to be a feast to honour them on their last night as guests. James had lost sight of Colin, entertaining himself while watching the chickens with the curiosity only a city boy can manage.

 

A deafening squeal interrupted his scrutiny and he saw in surprise how the owner of the farm, along with two other men, ran frustrated behind a big, pink ball he later realised was a pig. The beast ran desperately, emitting what it sounded like a horrified scream and James noticed the animal had a wound on its neck. As grossed out as he was he couldn't take his eyes of the beast and ran after it, following the blood traces that seemed to have been flying in every direction.

 

 Eventually the pig's screaming stopped. James looked around hoping to find it before the men, that seemed to have quitted their search and were now arguing amongst themselves. His curiosity was stronger than his aversion, so he speeded up his pace.

 

The landing was extense; he was breathless by the time he, triumphant, could make out the corpse of the beast lying next to a tree. He approached it slowly. James could remember what his thoughts were just as he was turning around the huge willow tree; he thought he should call Colin to show him his discovery. He wasn't expecting to find what he did, though. Sitting there, with his eyes as big as saucers and a glassy expression, his face covered with tears and his hands over his ears was his brother; his eyes fixated on the pig and one step away from hyperventilation.

 

James didn't hesitate one second; he was immediately kneeling between his brother and the dead animal. His brother averted his gaze from where he'd fixated it and closed his eyes.

 

"I...I t-tried...d-didn't want...to..." the little boy mumbled. James inched closer and put an arm around his little brother; that feeling he'd had ever since their parents had died, that sense that he ought to protect him increasing immensely after seeing Colin so helpless and disturbed.

 

James ran his fingers softly over the image and sighed again. Though he was aware that the incident couldn't have caused anything, that would be the first time of many where he'd see his brother with that empty look on his face, as if he was somewhere else entirely.

 

A pair of arms slid around his waist and he felt Rebecca resting her chin on his shoulder. His eyes never left the picture, but his mind returned to the apartment.

 

"Look at that!" Rebecca said mockingly. "Who'd thought you were ever that cute?"

 

James frowned.

 

"I was *not* cute."

 

Rebecca laughed wholeheartedly and let go of his waist, standing in front of him and pointing at the picture.

 

"Oh, yes you were! Look! You have the cutest smile, a tiny little button nose, and that thin baby hair, you were cute!"

 

James shook his head and faked outrage.

 

"Well, at least I didn't look like a carrot."

 

It was Rebecca's turn to look offended. She pouted and took the frame from his hands.

 

"That hurt sweetie, honestly." The fake fight soon forgotten, James stood next to her and resumed watching the picture with a sad look. Rebecca noticed her attempts to take his mind of the matter hadn't been all that successful, so she just hugged his waist again and sighed. "Worried?" she asked in a small voice.

 

"Huh?" James looked confused for a moment while his brain processed the word. He then smiled and shook his head no. "I'm getting old, I guess." he said jokingly. "When you start getting teary eyed over a stupid picture then you should start looking for nursing homes."

 

Rebecca swatted his arm softly.

 

"That's a mean thing to say! I always get all sappy and sentimental about pictures. You think I'm old?!"

 

"No, you're not." He kissed the tip of her nose sweetly. "You'll never be old."

 

"How romantic," she whispered, putting her arms around his neck and leaning in for a kiss. As soon as their lips touched, they were interrupted by the phone, and Rebecca pulled away, gritting her teeth. "You'd think that being as late as it is...but no!" she protested without any real animosity. James smiled and patted her back.

 

"I'll get it." he said.

 

Rebecca glanced at her watch and frowned. She'd been joking, but it really was late for a social call. She could only guess who it was, wondering for the thousandth time if her husband had a sort of sixth sense when it came to his brother. She turned to look at him and, as predicted, his demeanour immediately changed when he answered the phone.

 

She watched him carefully, trying to figure out what type of call it was with only half a conversation. Her worries eased when she noticed that James didn't seem worried himself, just tremendously frustrated and increasingly annoyed.

 

"Hello?...Oh, hi Ellie...aha...no...no, listen to me, it's ok...no, I know where...Calm down Ellie, I know where he is...Yes, it's what I've been trying to tell you...yeah, I know. I'll punch him for you...I love you too, bye Ellie." He hung up the phone hard and rubbed his temples. Rebecca could only smirk. He turned to look at her with a knowing look. "Don't laugh." he said seriously.

 

"I can almost see the little vein popping out of your forehead, honey." she teased.

 

"Ha, ha." He picked up his jacket and approached her. He kissed her on the cheek. "Make coffee; lots."

 

"Bye, hurry back and I'll set the extra mattress, ok?"

 

"Yeah, you do that." With that he closed the door behind him.

 

Rebecca stared at the door for a moment. She figured she was entitled to resent Colin for his countless interruptions and how much of James' time he demanded, but she couldn't. Though her brother in law wasn't exactly the best of friends to her. She'd been married to James for two years now, and Colin still didn't feel confident enough to be at ease around her.

 

She didn't take it personal, though; Colin was a kid with huge issues when it came down to socialization. What stopped her from resenting him was how much it moved her that James and Colin could be so close. She'd wished to have that same relationship with her own siblings.

 

Still, she'd make sure to torture the brat a little for the interruption when he arrived.

 

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The streets were particularly quiet that night. James figured it wasn't people's favourite place to be, considering it was cold as hell and one could smell a storm coming. Still, he was forced to walk all the way to the bus stop and beg that it wouldn't take it too long to arrive.

 

He was angry, but he knew the bus ride would be enough to cool him off. After all, no one had really asked him to go after his brother. He could have simply told his aunt where he was and let her take care of it. Better yet, he could have told the poor woman not to worry and let him get away with it. But it wasn't as if Colin was out there somewhere buying dope or getting drunk, or something of the sort. His brother's habit was far less dangerous, though not a lot less worrying. 

 

He clutched his coat closer to his body and shivered. Why would Colin want to spend the night outside with such weather was beyond human understanding. Elena had mentioned that his brother had been "difficult" that day. James could only hope that Colin was simply running away from a tense situation. But knowing that the old woman had been sleeping by the time he took off didn't give much credit to that theory.

 

From a distance he could make out the shape of the bus approaching him and he sighed in relief. A muttered "Thank god" and he was searching his pocket with numb fingers for the change. It wasn't long before it came to a stop before him and the doors opened with their characteristic sound, that seemed even louder in the silence of the night. He began slowly climbing the steps, meeting the driver's bemused gaze.

 

"Hi there, Jimmy. Trouble again?"

 

James smirked and bowed his head as a salute.

 

"I tell you, Randy, one of these days..."

 

The driver, a man well on his fifties with a kind, though rough expression, waved a hand dramatically.

 

"Kids today, whatcha gonna do? My kid's the same. He's always getting himself in trouble. He tells me I should mind my own business, that he's a grown man now, but as soon as he needs his ass saved, who does he call?"

 

James remained silent for a moment, then smiled.

 

"It's not that I mind looking after him; it’s what I do, I'd feel awkward otherwise; but...I don't know."

 

"Nah," the older man waved him off, "you care about him, that's fine. I've seen the kid, he's ok. You should see my son's friends. They'd make your hair stand, I tell you."

 

They chatted amiably the rest of the way to the terminal. Internally James mused about the other man talking to him as if he were Colin's father. Surely he knew it wasn't remotely possible, but he figured that was the impression he gave. He'd always acted as his father, even when he was in need of one himself.

 

When they finally pulled over along a line of buses, Randy said good bye and went into the terminal's cafeteria, James guessed, to get a much needed warm cup of coffee into his system. He thought it was a fine idea and considered it for a moment, finally deciding against it, at least until he was sure Colin was there.

 

And there he was, curling up in a ball on one of the plastic chairs, arms wrap around his knees and rubbing his hands maniacally, trying to warm his fingers that threatened to fall off.

 

As far as Colin was concerned, the night was beautiful. The cool, soft wind was cutting his skin. In spite of the shivers that ran down his spine, breathing the icy air, so thick that it was almost palpable, was very comforting. The sky was covered with menacing black clouds; he'd lose himself for hours watching the city lights reflecting on their contour. The whistle of the buses broke the deafening silence of the night, giving no room for his overactive imagination. To him, that was rest.

 

He was absorbed in his observations of the night sky when someone poking his shoulder startled him and, his limbs being all tangled and stiff from the cold, he fell flat on his behind on the concrete floor with a wail.

 

"Hey! Are you alright?" Came the surprised voice of his brother, that was staring down at him, obviously trying not to laugh. After his heart stopped beating madly, his face turned a bright red, half in embarrassment, half in anger. He stood up quickly, trying to regain some of his dignity.

 

"You stupid ass, you almost give me a heart attack!" he straightened out his coat, never taking his eyes from his brother, trying to convey exactly how mad he was. "What the hell are you doing here?" he asked annoyed.

 

James just shrugged.

 

"Elena called, she was about to call the police on you. You really need to stop scaring her like that."

 

Colin rolled his eyes.

 

"Oh, C'mon! I'm 19! I don't need permission to go out!"  

 

"You could at least let her know you are going out. You know she worries."

 

His brother's scolding tone was infuriating. Why did everyone treated him like an infant?

 

"It's not my fault the old cow goes to bed at eight! Now leave, I was having fun here!"

 

Colin tried to push James on the opposite direction, but being as he was the slender of the two, he ended up falling backwards. James seized him by the shoulders and forced him to sit down back on the chair. Surprised by how his plan had backfired, he could only stare at James, confused.

 

"Now look!" his older brother practically yelled, "don't talk about her like that. I seriously doubt you were having fun, and you're going to explain yourself before either of us goes anywhere, is that clear?"

 

He would have yelled back; tell his brother to stop treating him like a baby. He'd wanted to punch the guy right in the face. But for once he remained quiet and lowered his gaze. There was no use in fighting anyway, since he knew James would get the truth out of him one way or another. James sat next to him, taking a deep breath. At least his brother had accepted his submission for what it was. He wasn't giving in; he just wanted it over with.

 

"What was it this time? Did you two have a fight?" Colin shook his head no.

 

"No, nothing happened, I just like it here." Colin, calmer now, looked at his brother and saw he believed him. He smiled sheepishly. "Sorry she made you go look for me." a thought struck him, and his expression changed to one of dread. "You didn't tell her where I was, did you?" 

 

James shook his head no.

 

"I don't know if it's because once I tell her you won't be able to do this anymore, or simply because it's down right embarrassing that my younger brother sneaks out in the middle of the night to visit the bus station. Don't worry, your secret's safe with me."

 

"Thank you." he said with sincerity in his voice. James stood up.

 

"C'mon. I'll buy you a cup of coffee. What d'ya say?"

 

Colin felt immediately uncomfortable and begun playing with his scarf.

 

"Er...sure, if...if that's what you want, but..."

 

James, who knew all of Colin's tics, just rolled his eyes.

 

"Now what? You don't want coffee, is that it?"

 

"Yes, I do! It's just...the drivers, they...they look at me funny...and..."

 

James smacked his head.

 

"You're weird. Ok, lets go home then." from the corner of his eye he saw Colin tense up again and he sighed. "My place, don't worry. Becky's waiting for the both of us anyway. " seeing the relief on his brother's features, James smiled knowingly.  "I thought you said you came here 'cause you like the place?"

 

"Yes, it's just..."

 

"Never mind. I'm too tired to squeeze the truth outta you. But answer me this."

 

"What?"

 

"What is it about this place you like so much?"

 

Colin stopped on his tracks for a moment. After a few seconds of consideration he opted for telling the truth without compromising himself too much.

 

"No one stays here for long."

 

James watched Colin walk ahead of him, trying to figure out what he'd meant.

 

 

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