This story was Written by Rowan. I take no credit for the origins, or subsequent chapters.
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The sun was setting when I finally made it home, tired and aching and feeling great. As soon as I opened the door, Davey collided with me. I stumbled back a bit and then was able to hold my ground as an 8 year old boy hung off my torso.
It took me a second to realize what he was trying to do, and I tossed my backpack to the side before grabbing him and pinning him against floor. "Trying to wrestle me down, pipsqueak?"
He tried to jerk himself up and almost succeeded in breaking my grip, which surprised the hell out of me. But I put a little more effort into holding him there and he finally gave up. "I’m stronger than last time though, right?"
Personally, I just thought I was tired from practice, but I humored him. "You sure are." I got up and retrieved my backpack.
"Pretty soon you won’t be able to pin me."
I chuckled. So we were still on that. "Sure thing, Davey. Whatever you say." I ruffled his hair as I walked past him. "Where are Mom and Dad?"
"Upstairs getting ready for the movies, I think." Davey started hopping in circles around me. <i> Man, </i> it seemed like the kid got more energetic every day. "How was practice? Did you hit one out of the park?"
"Nope. Getting closer though. I guess that weight set Dad got me is starting to pay off."
"You’re really strong, Justin. I tried to lift your dumbbells today and couldn’t budge them."
My head snapped down and I grabbed his chin. "You know you’re not supposed to play with those things when I’m not around, pipsqueak. You could get hurt."
He looked instantly contrite. "I know I’m not supposed to touch your stuff. I just thought since I was getting stronger..."
I collapsed onto the couch. "I don’t care if you touch my things, as long as you don’t change the settings on my stereo. All I care about is your safety."
Davey mimicked me and collapsed right beside me. "Okay, I’ll wait for you for now on."
"Good deal." I propped my feet up on the coffee table, trying not to smile when he followed suit. "So was dinner good today?" I almost never made it to dinner on school days. My parents had offered to push back the time, but I didn’t want anyone going hungry because of me.
He nestled his head against the crook of my shoulder. "It was alright, I guess. Spaghetti."
I glanced down at him. "Just alright? I thought spaghetti was your favorite."
He shrugged. "Yeah but... there wasn’t enough meat. I’m still kinda hungry."
My gaze drifted to his feet as I remembered how he’d gobbled up his food yesterday. I noted absently that the cuffs of his jeans were riding above his ankles now. Pretty soon he’d need a new wardrobe. "Well, while my plate is warming, I’ll make you a roast beef sandwich. How does that sound?"
"Yes!" He leapt from the couch. "Let’s go!"
I groaned and got up markedly slower.
We ate at the kitchen counter, and I watched as Davey tore through two sandwiches. Again I got the impression that something had changed about him. His face, maybe? His baby fat seemed to be dropping away. And the energy around him was different.
Ah hell, it was probably nothing to worry about, right? He was just growing up.
My parents popped into the kitchen, all dressed up for their date.
So weird that they still dated. And on a Monday.
"Hey, sport," said my dad, straightening his tie. "How was practice?"
I put our plates into the sink. "About the same as usual."
"Going to win the pennant?"
"Don’t we always?" I was too cocky for my own good, but right now I could afford to be.
He laughed and clapped his hand on my shoulder. "Good good."
Mom kissed us on the cheek. "Don’t wait up."
When they left I turned to Davey and made a little gagging motion with my finger.
Of course he thought it was funny. He was eight.
He got himself a step stool and dried the dishes I washed. "Pretty soon I won’t need to step on anything to reach the sink."
"Oh yeah? Exactly how big do you plan on getting?"
Dishtowel still gripped in his little fingers, he flung his hands into the air. "Bigger than this!"
I laughed and handed him the last cup. "That’ll be something to see."
"It sure will."
The next few days pretty much passed the same way. Although I did find myself watching Davey more closely than usual. At first I thought it was my imagination, but he really was changing, and fast. By the end of the week his pant cuffs had crept up another half inch. His shirts hung differently, and faint cords were appearing on his forearms. He moved with more confidence now, as if the very act of walking had become easier.
And every day after practice, he’d tackle me as soon as I walked through the door. I began to realize that my own fatigue had nothing to do with it.
He <i> was </i> getting stronger.
I tried to talk to my parents about it. They just waved it off and said he was finally hitting a decent growth spurt.
It wouldn’t have mattered if they <i> had </i> believed me. There was no changing the path Davey was on.
Other things were changing, too. Little things. He still struggled with his homework, but that entire week he never once needed my help.
He was growing in mind and body, and I couldn’t help but wonder if soon he’d be growing away from me.
Spring break was starting and I was required to go to a baseball retreat. Even so, I seriously considered throwing my future away by blowing it off and staying with Davey. I didn’t feel right about leaving him, not when things were going so screwy.
"Do you have to go?" he asked, sitting cross-legged on my bed as I packed my suitcase.
I dropped a pair of shorts into my bag. "Every year since junior high."
"But do you have to go <i> this </i> year?"
"Davey..." I zipped up my case and sat next to him. "Tell me the truth now. Are you in trouble? Do you need me to stay? Because if so, just say the word and I’m here for you."
He hugged his knees to his chest. I noticed that his legs filled his slacks more than they had yesterday. "No. It’s just that you’ll be going away to college in a few months." His head dropped down. "Now you’re gonna be gone for a whole week... you might not even know who I am when you come back."
I dragged him against my body, trying not to think that he even felt different. A little thicker. A little harder. "Listen, pipsqueak. First, just because I’m moving away doesn’t mean we still can’t be close. You and me will always be tight. Second, I’ll always, <i> always <i> recognize you, so stop worrying about that. And third, I don’t know what’s going on with you, but I’ll be here when you’re ready to tell me, okay?"
His arms squeezed me, reminding me again that he was getting stronger everyday. "Okay."
I stood and picked up my bag. "I’ll see you in a week." I glanced at him again, and on impulse I kissed his forehead. "Try not to change too much while I’m gone. I don’t want to miss anything."
He broke into a huge grin. "Sure thing, big brother."
I thought once more about staying, then took off to catch my teammates  | Members who added to this interactive story also contributed to these: |
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