Tommy and his brothers were close. There was his youngest brother: Anthony often shortened to Tony. Tony always wanted to come along, help out, and be more like his brothers. Tony was scrawny and whiny. He had curly brown hair and somehow he was everywhere. Sometimes Senior was partial to Tony. More than the others, he wanted Tony to be happy or at least content and that marked the downfall of his objective decisions.
Rider arrived before Tony but Tony was always more part of the family than Rider. Rider begrudgingly belonged to the family. He was smarter than the others and embarrassed by his brothers. Rider snuck away to study whenever he could. His brown hair was always too long and tucked behind his ears. He was too tall and he continued growing at an outlandish rate. Rider’s pants were always too short and he was always tripping or falling or bumping into something. His body couldn’t keep up with his growth rate. He was quiet. Rider only did what he did what he had to regarding his father’s business. He was counting down the days until he finished school and, if he was lucky, went to college somewhere far, far away.
Tommy came before Rider. For a little while each year Tommy and Rider were the same age. They were both quiet, the quietest of all the brothers, but that was where their similarities ended. Sometimes they would sit together. Rider would let Tommy read his books and explain to him the themes and characters and sometimes the motifs. Tommy nodded but he didn’t know what a motif was and he missed the window of time in which he could have asked Rider to explain. Nonetheless, Tommy listened to Rider’s informative literary dribble. He didn’t understand much of what Rider said and he understood even less of what he read but he continued, when the others weren’t looking, hoping that something would sink in. The others didn’t know about this facet of Rider and Tommy’s relationship. When they heard the footsteps and heckling of their brothers heading toward them they would pretend to be sitting silently or Rider would pick up the book as if he were reading it to himself. Sometimes they really were just sitting in silence. They could sit together without speaking for hours and it was fine. Tommy loved Rider most.
Tommy loved Rick least. Ricky was the oldest and he thought he was in charge. Whenever Rick Senior was gone Ricky took on their father’s role. Where their father had compassion, and that was a narrow window reserved only for his boys, Ricky had none. Tommy was always afraid of the day their father would die and Ricky would take over. The operations would get greedier, more dangerous, and more violent. There were already enough of those characteristics as it was.
Vincent was Ricky’s best friend and he basically lived with them until his parents found drugs in his bedroom then Vincent actually lived with them. Vincent was the closest any of them came to sweet. He wasn’t necessarily nice but he had certain sweetness to him. He wasn’t sweet in an endearing way; it was more of a malicious charisma.
He was as close as either of them came to attractive in any conventional sense of the word. It was likely just because he didn’t share their genes. Senior's genes. Despite the lack of common blood Vincent began to look like them after a while. They dressed alike, walked alike, talked alike, and spent all their time together. Anyone who didn’t know better would never be able to tell Vincent didn’t belong, because for all intents and purposes, he did.
Ricky got greedy, Ricky always did. He brought Vincent into the fold but then he tried to incorporate another body. Ricky gradually moved his girlfriend into the house too.
It was explosive.
“You’ve got to get that whore out of here,” Vincent complained.
“She’s not that bad. She cooks, she cleans…”
“She makes me want to kill myself,” Vincent threatened.
“No one’s stopping you.”
“Vinnie’s right,” huffed Tony. “She’s always busting my chops.”
“We leave in three days and I’m going to keep her here for every second until I leave, if you guys don’t like it you can leave.”
The boys had never left the country before. Rick Senior didn’t make a big deal of it so the boys pretended they didn’t think it was a big deal either. They acted nonchalant every step of the way but when they made their way home they had a different demeanour. There was a new air to them and their perspective wasn’t altered by the pointed mountains or the scarving, poverty-strictened crowds.
For the first time in their lives what they did became real. Tony and Rider missed some; Rick saw more than the others, but Tommy was changed and Vincent was scared – well, they were all scared.
The next trip would be different, the next time would be worse.
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