Kele Moon - Crossing the line

Wyatt shrugged and looked to Jules uncertainly because he was almost positive she knew the real reason.

“Clay wasn’t looking too good, Daddy. He was bleeding more than Wyatt is,” Jules whispered as if choosing that to be the better confession than Wyatt’s crush on Tabitha. “I think he needs a doctor.”

“How bad was he?” his father asked in concern.

“Bad,” Jules and Wyatt said in unison in the way they were apt to do in stressful situations like this.

“Wyatt does have a black belt,” Jasper said with a sidelong glance at the sheriff. “And he’s fighting way above his age group in boxing.”

Wyatt couldn’t help but sit up at that. “Really?”

His father turned to arch an eyebrow at him, as if daring him to say more. Wyatt shrank back and lowered his gaze rather than ask how far above his age group Coach Jasper thought he was fighting, but it was on the tip of his tongue.

“Okay, come on.” His father stood up and picked his sheriff’s hat up off Coach Jasper’s desk. “We got to go find the Powers boy.”

It wasn’t until they got into his sheriff’s jeep and away from prying eyes that his father let loose.

“I swear, Wyatt, you’re gonna be the death of me. What gives you the right to go run your mouth ’bout things you see at my place of work? That sorta thing’s supposed to be kept private. The way you’re heading, Jules is gonna be the next sheriff ’cause I ain’t even sure I can trust you anymore.”

Wyatt turned to narrow his eyes at Jules, expecting her to add insult to injury. Instead she was looking out the window, flinching when their father started in again as if it were her under the gun.

“What’d you got to say ’bout all that?”

“Sorry, sir.”

“Well, sorry surely ain’t gonna cut it this time. I hope you’re thinking of a mighty fine apology for Powers, ’cause I ain’t doubting for a moment that it was your fault. That mouth of yours could make a saint violent.”

“Sorry, sir.”

“I ain’t never been so ashamed of my kin. I got half a mind to lock you up. You know what aggravated assault means, don’t ya?”

Wyatt nodded. “Yes, sir. I know what it means.”

“That’s a mighty serious offense. You feel like explaining to Judge Carter why you decided to run your mouth just ’cause you like the sound of your voice and then beat a boy that ain’t got half as many privileges as you to make yourself feel bigger and meaner?”

Wyatt shook his head as he avoided looking at his father, who was driving faster than usual, which was saying something. “No, sir.”

“Then what’re you gonna do to make up for it? ’Cause I’m truly considering it. Since it’s fun to run your mouth ’bout being hauled into the sheriff’s office, maybe it’s time you find out what it feels like.”

Wyatt shrugged again. He had no earthly idea what he could do to make up for this. On instinct he looked at Jules. His sister had an answer for everything.

“I wouldn’t say Wyatt was bigger than Clay,” Jules put in without missing a beat, as if she couldn’t resist his silent cry for help. “I think Clay’s taller.”

“Well, taller don’t mean—”

“And bigger.” Jules held out her hand as if imitating a giant. “And I heard from Susie that he got into a fight at the trailer park and beat both Vaughn Davis and Brett McMillen, and they’re two years older.”

“But—”

“And Clay threw the first punch,” Jules went on as if her father hadn’t tried to argue.

“Only ’cause of Wyatt’s mouth. What he said was beyond cruel.”

“But you’re always saying not to lose our tempers ’cause of words.” Jules voice took on an innocent, high-pitched tone like it always did when she was being manipulative, and for some reason only Wyatt ever noticed the change. “Isn’t that true, Daddy?”

“Well, it’s true, but that don’t make it okay what he did.”

“But if you’re arresting people for words, wouldn’t ya have to arrest everyone?”

“I’m arresting him for beating on the boy.”

“But that was self-defense, and you said if anyone tries to hurt us, we should defend ourselves and—”

“Jules, just hush. I’m sick of both your mouths.”

Jules opened her mouth as if to argue that point too, before their father turned to glare at her. “I ain’t kidding, missy. You’re ’bout to be in as much trouble as Wyatt.”

“That seems unfair.” Jules folded her arms over her chest. “Like I’m not allowed to have an opinion. Miss Katling says it’s like the woman’s revolution never happened round here, and it’s our job to remind fellas of our rights.”

“Miss Katling has armpit hair and a nonexistent dating record,” his father said with a growl of frustration. “What the hell kinda things was she teaching you in that young woman’s class anyhow?”

Wyatt gave his father a wide-eyed look of warning. Jules had told him what she learned in that young woman’s class Miss Katling was hosting at the rec center, and he’d rather be grounded the rest of the summer than hear Jules blurt it all out in front of their father. He wasn’t even surprised when Jules started before their father could catch the hint.

“They told us about periods and sex and—”

“Forget it.” He held up his hands in defeat. “Please, Jules. Hush for five minutes. I’m begging you. I got a headache a mile wide.”

“Seems like if we’re arresting people for words, it surely ain’t nice to say Miss Katling has armpit hair.” Jules huffed. “I like Miss Katling.”

“I didn’t say that.”

“I heard you,” Jules said sullenly.

“I did too,” Wyatt couldn’t help but point out. “And you said she had a bad dating record.”

“God almighty, you two wear me out and confuse me in between. If you’re not killing each other, you’re doing this. Don’t think for one moment I don’t know what you did, Juliet. You’re changing the subject on purpose. You always bring up Miss Katling when you’re trying to get out of trouble. He’s still grounded.”

Jules turned and gave Wyatt an apologetic look, and Wyatt could only shrug in response. He surely couldn’t have put up that good of a defense for himself. If it’d been left up to him, he’d probably be spending the night in a jail cell.

His sister had a dark gift.

“And guess what you’re doing right now, buddy. You’re going out to the Powers place with me to say sorry to him face-to-face. I ain’t facing that alone.”

Wyatt nodded, deciding it was the least he deserved.

Wyatt never had to say sorry. Turned out there was no Clay Powers at the trailer park. He’d run away from home, and Wyatt went from feeling bad to horrible when his father had to launch a full-out search to find the homeless, injured kid his son had beaten black and blue.

When the sun set and their father still hadn’t returned from his quest to find Clay, Deputy Henry Caraway came and stayed with them. Though both Jules and Wyatt knew how to heat up one of the stacks of frozen meals their father had stored in the freezer, Henry took over and fixed them a real meal, which would’ve been a nice novelty if he didn’t come bearing bad news.

“Can you imagine him living on the streets all this time? How the heck’s he been surviving? You missed it, but after he dropped y’all off at home, your daddy dragged that dumb fool who’d been in charge of the Powers boy in for endangering a minor. Why the heck didn’t he report a kid his age running away?”

Wyatt was going to be physically ill. His stomach lurched, and he looked down at his food with a moan of misery. “I ain’t really hungry.”

“Boy, you’re always hungry.”

“Not always.”

“I think you’re upsetting him.” Jules gave Henry a look. “He already feels bad because of the fight. Now he found out he was beating on a homeless kid. He probably wants to drown himself.”

Nice of Jules to voice all his innermost demons out loud. Why’d God have to curse him with a twin who knew what he was thinking more often than not?

“You really sick, Wyatt?”

“Yes, I’m really sick.” Wyatt rubbed his head. “Can I go lay down?”

“Maybe I oughta call the doc,” Henry mused as he studied Wyatt across the table. “You ain’t looking so great tonight, boy.”

“I’m fine.” Wyatt got up without permission, hoping to take the attention off his bruised face because the last thing he wanted was Dr. Philips showing up. “I’m just tired.”

Henry didn’t stop him from sulking up to bed. Wyatt crawled under the covers, wishing he could go to sleep, but the pounding in his head, the rolling in his stomach, and the knowledge that Clay Powers was out there feeling worse than he did kept him staring at the darkened ceiling. He was so caught up in his thoughts he winced when the door to his bedroom opened, casting a ray of light from the hallway over his face.

He threw his hands over his eyes. “Close it quick.”

The door clicked shut, and Jules whispered, “How come you’re hiding up here like a coward?”

“I ain’t a coward.” He moaned. “I’m sick, Ju Ju.”

“I thought you were just hiding from Henry.” Her voice was suddenly low and concerned.

“That too. But I swear to God, I’m one wrong move from throwing up.”

“Maybe it’s a stomach bug. I hope you don’t give it me.” Jules sat down on his bed, making it bounce because she was always high energy.

That was the wrong move, and Wyatt physically shoved his sister to the ground in his attempt to make it out of bed and to his bathroom fast enough. He retched into the toilet, losing not just his dinner, but anything he’d likely eaten for the past week. He’d never thrown up so violently.