This is day 17 of @mydivathings's #365daysofwriting challenge. Every day she invites you to write a short story based on the image she chooses. Today's image (below) is a Photo by Jordan Whitt on Unsplash
Find out more about the challenge (you can join anytime!) here @mydivathings/day-17-365-days-of-writing-challenge
This story is part two of a longer story. You can read this part as a standalone piece or you can read part one here: @felt.buzz/reunion-an-original-work-of-fiction-for-the-365daysofwriting-challenge
Al put the phone down and ran his fingers through his hair. Of course, he knew Mitch was back. He had had his people watching his brother for the last ten years. And yes, he had been expecting the call. But it was still a little bit… unnerving. He wondered how Mitch was feeling. Had he been looking forward to this? Been planning it?
Of course, he had.
Mitch would think he had the advantage, now. The upper hand. That's why Al had chosen the café, on the other side if town, for their reunion because he knew it was exactly the kind of place Mitch would hate.
He pressed the intercom and asked Claire to arrange to have his car brought round.
“Yes, sir,” she said. “It is raining heavily sir, so don’t forget your umbrella.”
“Thank you, Claire. I won’t be coming back to the office. And unless it’s life and death, I don’t want calls diverted to my mobile.”
The car was waiting for him by the time he’d reached the lobby. Roger opened the door for him, umbrella in hand. Al gave Roger the address of the cafe, and sat back. He closed his eyes, listening to the gentle pur of the engine.
As kids they had been inseparable. The Three Musketeers Mamie called them, sometimes the Three Stooges. Mitch, the eldest was their leader. Al was the middle child, born nine and a half months after Mitch - a mistake, as Mitch later pointed out. Justin was the baby three years younger than Mitch. Justin adored Mitch. He would do anything for him.
And, as it turned out, he did.
The village loved the Dixon boys and hated them in equal measure. They all knew how to turn the charm on - Mamie had made sure they knew their manners - and it was said, by many a mother, that they were going to break hearts when they were older. But they were also known as troublemakers. They weren’t thieves but they were known to “borrow’ things from time to time.
They also liked to play pranks.
Al remembered the time Justin had got his first proper whopping. he and Mitch had dared Justin to fill a paper bag full of dog shit - they had made him go down the Green and shovel it up using one of Mamie’s garden trowels. Poor boy almost puked twice. Then one of the old dears had seen him and had given him a couple of coins for “ tidying the place up” (which Mitch confiscated until “after the dare is done” - poor Justin never did see those coins). Once the bag was half-full Justin was given careful instructions and a lighter.
Looking very small, he ran up the driveway of the Austin’s house - the rich family whose kids were too posh to go to the local school - and dumped the bag on the doorstep. From their hiding place, in the bushes on the other side of the road, Al and Mitch watched Justin struggle to get the lighter to work. He eventually put a flame to the bag and rang the doorbell. Mrs Austin must have been standing near the door, because the door was flung open before Justin could get into hiding.
“I can see you, Justin Dixon!” Mrs Austin shouted. “Wait until I see your... what the-”
It was the moment Al and Mitch had been waiting for. Seeing the bag in flames at her feet, Mrs Austin did what any normal person would do when they see a small fire. She stamped on it. Dog shit flew everywhere, some landing on Mrs Austin’s face. Al and Mitch laughed so hard, that Al thought he was going to piss himself. Mrs Austin wiped some of the offending material off her face and made the mistake of sniffing it, and gagged.
You could have said what you liked about Justin but he was no grass. Mamie knew full well that Al and Mitch had put Justin up to it. But he never let on. He took his punishment, and never said a word.
But that was Justin. He was a good lad.
Right up to the end.
“Sir,” Roger said, bringing Al back to the present. “We’re here, sir. Would you like a few minutes? I can go round the block, if you want.”
“No, thank you, Roger. I’ll get out here. I’ll find my own way back. You can go home.”
Al pushed the door of the café. Inside, it was busy. The subtle, ambient, lighting meant it took a while for Al to spot Mitch. He looked better than the last time he'd seen him. But then again, the last time he'd seen him, Al had tried tried to kill the sonofabitch.
He smiled, waved and walked over to give his brother a hug.
...
Part three is available here: @felt.buzz/reunion-part-3-an-original-work-of-fiction-for-the-365daysofwriting-challenge