The Cadillac hits a pothole and dies.
�No! Fuck, no! Don�t do this to me!� Brian coasts the car to side of the road without the benefit of power steering before bringing the car to a complete stop. He turns the ignition key again and again with no response. �Come on baby... come on.�
Raindrops splash on the windshield of the car.
"Shit!"
***
A well maintained, but shabby house, Clarie Kinney, a forty year old struggling mother whose dreams have died, is soaking her sore feet while sorting laundry.
�Mom, this is hopeless!� cries John, Clarie�s fifteen year old son. He is plying with the aluminum foil flags attached to the rabbit ear antenna on the television. Every time John steps away from the antenna, the picture begins to roll again.
�Yes, it is. You�re just going to have to stand there until the movie is over.�
�Mom, it�s a school night! I�ve got reading to do.�
�Let me guess, American History?
�No.�
�American Government?�
�No.�
�American... Anatomy?�
�Mom!� John picks up his book from the top of the television. The picture on the television stops rolling. He shows the book to his mother. �Shakespeare for my English Lit. class. You maybe remember Shakespeare?�
�Somewhere in the dark recesses of my mind, I recall a man in poofy pants and tights with a pointy beard. Hey, look you fixed the t.v.! That should teach you never to put great literature near a television. Which play?�
�What�s it matter?�
�It doesn�t really, I suppose. I just thought we could talk about it.�
�Talk about Shakespeare? You have got to be kidding!�
The door bell rings.
�Jesus, who could that be? John...�
�I�m on it.� John looks out a window. �It�s a policeman and another man,� he answers.
Clarie struggles to stand up. �Oh, my God! Something has happened to your grandfather! Get the door! Get the door!�
A highway patrolman is standing by the front door next to Brian. Brian is wearing sunglasses, even though it is dark outside, and hiding behind the patrolman. He is dressed in an expensive leather jacket and is carrying an overnight bag.
John opens the front door and looks out.
�Can, I... Can I help you officer?�
The highway Patrolman is smiling broadly. He steps aside to reveal Brian. �I think I found someone who belongs to you.�
�What do you mean?� John asks confused on what the officer was talking about.
�Officer, Carl, is my father...� Claire says in the state of tears.
�Hello, Claire,� Brian stammers.
�My God!� Claire stares a Brian for a moment. �Carl is he in any trouble?�
�Just car trouble, ma�am. His car broke down out on the interstate.�
�I see... before or after the Groverton exit?�
�Well, actually after.�
Claire shakes her head.
Brian looks up and smiles his award winning smile before removing his sunglasses.
�Mom, it�s Uncle Brian!� John finally realize who the man is.
�Shhh, John, I know who it is. You�ll wake your brother.� Claire turns to the officer. �Thank you, Carl, for bringing me my wayward little brother.�
�You�re more than welcome, madame.�
�Well... then, Brian, are you just going to stand out there in the rain, or are you going to come in?�
�I think I was thinking about maybe coming in. I could stay at a motel.�
�You can stay in my room. Can�t he , mom... can�t he?� John begs.
�Of course, family is family after all, and family always takes care of family, don�t they, Brian. Thank you again, Carl.�
Carl tips his hat. �Not at all, madame. it�s not everyday I get to rescue a genuine Super Bowl winner.� He says to Brian, �Thanks again, for the autographs for my kid. I really appreciate it.�
Brian hies his frustration. �Not at all, officer, and thank you for going clear out of your way to track down my sister and bringing me over here to her.�
�Glad to do it...� Carl tips his hat again. �Madame.� Then he leaves them.
�Well, are you coming in or not?�
Brian fellows the two into the living room. John heads to his room to prepare for his uncle. �When did you move in here? Isn�t this Steve Reeve�s folk�s old place?�
�Yes, it is. They�re selling it to me on contract. Steve and me... our little scandal was too much for them, so they tailed it to Arizona when they retired, but they have always treated Sam and me well.� Claire takes Brian�s wet coat. �They at least send their granddaughter presents on her birthday and at Christmas, which is more than I can say for our Mom and Dad.�
�Or me, I suppose.�
�If the shoe fits...�
John comes back into the living room. �Let me take your bag! Are you going to stay with us for a while? I mean, please stay with us. It�s been like forever since we�re seen you.�
�It�s been almost, what... seven years? It�s been more than three years, since I last talked to you on the phone for heaven�s sake. I sometimes thought you might be dead, little brother.�
�That makes two of us then.�
Suddenly, Claire grabs a hold of her brother and hugs him like there is no tomorrow. She begins to cry.
Brian doesn�t react at all.
***
Peter, a bright but cautious eight year old boy, still in his nightgown, sneaks into his brother�s bedroom not knowing that John isn�t in the twin bed.
Brian is asleep in the bed. His bare chest is somewhat exposed. There is a long ugly scar around the right shoulder, and several scars on his left knee.
Peter�s eyes go wide, and he screams before running out of the room.
Brian jumps out of the bed as best as he can wondering where the fire is.
John runs into his room. He chuckles, �That was Peter. I don�t think he knew you were in here. He doesn�t remember you, but I do.� John heads to his dresser. �I�m just going to grab some of my clothes. I got school.�
Brian tries to get his damaged body to move. He looks around John�s room. John has a small cassette player and a lot of used paper back books. On one shelf, is a Brian Kinney autographed football and an autographed photo of Brian in a professional football uniform. �So... what grade are you in now?�
�I�m a sophomore at Hillcrest.�
�A sophmore... wow.�
�Peter is in thrid grade.�
�Thrid grade... last time I saw her she was a baby.�
�Yeah, Mom took us to see you in Dallas! Your house was awesome.�
�Yeah, it was pretty nice.�
Claire walks into John�s room in her Cramer Bakery uniform holding two cups of coffee. She hands one cup to Brian and drinks the other one. �John, shift into thrid gear your eggs are getting cold.�
�Okay, Mom.�
�Sorry about Peter. He�s not use to strangers.�
�Cramer�s cupcake?� Brian reads his sister�s uniform. �You work at the cupcake factory? Why? I figured you�d go back to teaching once Peter was old enough.�
�Women like me aren�t allowed to teach in these parts. John, you�ve got fifteen minutes!�
�Right, Mom. Heck, Uncle Brian, we don�t even go to church anymore.� John rushes out of his room with his clothes.
�No chruch? I don�t understand.�
�Brian, I know you�re not that dense. My husband ran off with another man. I had an affair with a married man and had Peter, remember?� She sighs, �I just couldn�t take anymore judgmental, superior, anal crap... Okay! Look, you are going to see Mom and Dad, since you�re here, aren�t you?�
Brian stares at the floor.
�Well, aren�t you? Oh, please don�t do this to me, to my kids. If Mom and Dad find out you were in town and stayed here with us and didn�t check in on them...�
�Hell, I never meant to come back, Claire.�
�Tell me something I don�t already know.�
�I haven�t had a drink in three years.�
�You had a drinking problem? Didn�t living with Mom teach you anything?�
�I was never an alcoholic like her. I just got tired of men taking advantage of me when I was drunk.�
�Well, it is fair to say that your choice in men has always been pretty questionable.�
�Thanks, Sis. If you couldn�t teach, why didn�t you go to work for Dad at the tavern?�
�You honestly think Dad would have offered me a job? The town slut! Look, Brian, I�m not going to force my opinions on you, and besides, I�ve got to get my kids off to school, and I�ve got to get to work.�
�I blew my signing bonus and most of my first years salary buying that tavern for all of you... not just Dad, �cause he wanted it.�
�I know. Look, go by Buzz�s auto on Vicker. Michael is here. He�ll see to it your car gets towed in and repaired. Then go see the folks, and we�ll talk tonight.� Claire pulls out a set of keys from her pocket. �Here�s keys for the front door, the padlock on the garage, and Stephen�s old Harley- it�s sorta of hidden in there. His wife won�t let him ride it. In fact, I think he might have told her he sold it. But if you can get it to run, you can use it.�
�Are you and he still...�
�Steve and me? No... Emily has been in remission now for almost as long as I�ve had Peter. Steve got his wife back, and I got my baby boy. Don�t misunderstand my life, Brian. I�m a lucky woman. Twice blessed with wonderful childeren.�
Brian takes the keys and stares at them while sipping his coffee.
Claire slips out of the room.
�I must have been out of my mind to have let that patrolman bring me back to this,� he utters to himself.