Down and Defeated

Chapter 1 – Down and Defeated



On a sunny afternoon in mid-August, a minivan turned the corner of a tree lined street, moved slowly past playing children and into the driveway of a house with a perfectly manicured lawn. Max sat in the last row, close to the door, waiting impatiently for the vehicle to come to a complete stop.



“I’m going to beat you,” boasted Mike from the passenger’s seat.



Unlatching his seat belt and dropping his backpack, Max jumped out onto the steaming pavement. He turned back and saw that Mike was behind him, closing in on his lead.  With one quick move, Mike grasped Max’s shoulder and shoved him hard to the ground.



Max’s face turned red. “I hate you, Mike!”



He looked down at his skinned knee and thought, If only I were bigger. Boiling with rage, he sprang to his feet and watched helplessly as Mike, the victor, strutted into the house.   

Determined not to lose, Max charged into the house and rammed Mike, sending him tumbling forward. Mike sprang to his feet and shoved his brother hard to the ground.



“What is wrong with you?” yelled Mike.



“One of these days I’m going to be bigger than you and I am going to pound you!” screamed Max.



Mrs. Hopkirk came running into the room and stood between her boys.



“What in the world is going on in here?” she asked. “Honestly, I wish you two would stop fighting. You’re family, you need to get along. Family is all you have in this world. Remember that.”



“I don’t want Mike in our family. He is so mean.”



“Whatever midget,” said Mike and he reached past his mother to flick Max’s ear.



“Michael Hopkirk you stop that!” scolded his mother. “Stop bullying your brother.”



Mike strolled into the family room, laid back on the sofa and switched on the TV. Max locked himself in the little half-bath and stared at his reflection in the mirror. A sly smile spread across his face. Creeping out of the bathroom he tip-toed over to Mike’s backpack, unzipped it and pulled out a notebook. He browsed through countless crumpled papers until he found what he was looking for. He began to grin. Casting the backpack to the side, he raced into the kitchen.



“Hey, mom, I found something for you,” said Max and he held out an official looking piece of paper.



“I can’t see, hold on.” She grabbed at the glasses that dangled around her neck and slipped them on her face. Taking the paper from Max, her expression turned sour.



“Mike!” she yelled.



“What mom!” he called from the other room.



“Come here now!”



Panic filled Max because he knew there was no way to escape crossing the path of his brutal brother. He stood close to his mother’s side.



Mike sauntered into the kitchen and said, “I’m watching a really cool show.”



“Not anymore,” she retorted as she held up the paper and shook it. “This was dated a few days ago. When were you planning on telling me about it?”



Mikes face dropped and he stammered, “Well…I don’t know. I forgot about that. It’s no big deal.”



“No big deal?” She tore her glasses from her face. “It says here you have missed four classes. Mike we have been over this. Do you know what happens to children who miss too much school?”



Mike shrugged.



“Don’t take that attitude with me young man. There will be no TV, computer or video games for a week.”



“Wait, that’s not fair. I’m supposed to play Lord of Doom with my friends tonight. You can’t do this.”



“I can and I will.”



“Have you been digging through my things Mom?”



“Maybe,” she said.



The room fell quiet as Mike glared at Max.



“It was you!” blurted Mike.



Max ran past Mike and yelled, “Consider yourself served!”



“You little brat!” boomed Mike he as sprinted after him.



It did not take long for Mike to catch up to his little brother and put him in a choke hold. He reached down Max’s shorts, grabbed the back of his elastic underpants band and pulled hard.



“You like that,” guffawed Mike.



“Mom! Mike gave me a wedgie!” He flayed wildly at Mike, but his blows were easily blocked.



“You gonna cry! Cry baby, you always have to call mom to protect you!”



Max ran to his room, slammed the door shut and dislodged his underpants. He leaned against the door, wiped at the tears that welled up in his eyes and took a deep breath. All was quiet except for the monotonous buzz from the small fan above. Bright light shone through the valance topped window and pierced his eyes. Squinting he walked over and pulled the blind shut. There was scurrying from the table next to him. Must have scared Echo, he thought as he looked into the large reptile tank that housed his pet chameleon. Removing the makeshift screen top, he scooped out the lizard and fell back on his bed.



“Hey, Echo,” he said as he stroked the lizard’s scaly head. Echo stared up at him, as if studying Max’s expression.

“I hate Mike so much. Sometimes I wish he was dead.”



Max felt terrible for that thought and tried to distract himself. His gaze flicked over the countless posters of the constellations that hung from the walls. He settled his sights on one. “Big Dipper.” He looked at another. “Aquila.” And then another. “Cassiopeia.”



This continued for several minutes until a shrill voice stabbed at his ears. “Dinner’s ready!”



He walked over to the reptile tank and whispered to echo, “I wish Mike would stop being such a jerk,” and the lizard looked up at him as if he understood.