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Rated: 13+ · Fiction · Drama · #1854343
Faced with an afternoon of terror, two truant brothers sober up pretty quickly.
Sober Siblings


         The ding-dong of the doorbell bounced off the walls of the empty rooms and made its way down into the basement, in spite of blaring rock music vibrating the speakers in each corner.
         “Who’s that?” Bennie put his beer down on the table next to the unmade bed and tilted his head back. He stared at the ceiling, as if he could see through the floor boards into the kitchen above.
         “Chill, little bro. It’s probably just a couple of dorky JoHos peddling the end of the world.” Luke plopped the heels of his Skechers onto the coffee table, leaving a muddy smudge. He adjusted his butt in the over-stuffed chair and reached for the bottle of Budweiser next to him. There were six empties lying under the end table, and Luke was enjoying the buzz. His parents had finally given in to his constant badgering and converted the unused basement into a bedroom for the sixteen-year-old. He had adorned the paneled walls with his drawings of Gothic vampires and gargoyles. A flat-screen TV hung beside the mini-fridge next to the bathroom door.
         “Maybe it’s Mom. If she catches us skipping school again…” Bennie let the parental threat hang in mid-air as he lowered his gaze from the acoustic tiles overhead. He flashed a worried frown at his brother who was two years his senior.
         Luke pointed his long-necked bottle at Bennie and splashed some beer on the clothes-strewn floor. “Mom wouldn’t ring her own doorbell, stupid. Even if she forgot her keys, why would she—?”
         Ding-dong. Ding-dong.
         Bennie jumped off the bed and headed for the stairs.
         “Where the hell are you going?” Luke asked.
         “Duh, fart brain, I’m gonna answer the frickin’ door.”
         “Oh no, you’re not. Just shut up and gimme another Ben, Bud… I mean another Bud, Ben.” Luke laughed at his own slurred slip of the tongue.
          Suddenly, a loud thud and the sound of splintering wood exploded through the house.
         “What the…?” Bennie stopped at the foot of the stairs and turned to his brother, eyes wide with terror.
         Luke dove for the CD player, jabbed the stop button, and put his finger over his lips, signaling for Bennie to be quiet. He leaned into Bennie’s ear and whispered, “Is the basement door locked?”
         Bennie shook his head.
         Luke heard heavy footsteps, a lot of footsteps running through the house. Some sounded like they were going up to the second floor. His beer buzz evaporated, as if he’d been splashed with cold water, and he realized he had to pee, bad. But he had to get that door locked. Bennie ran into the tiny bathroom as he punched 911 into his cell phone.
         “… and they must have rung the bell to make sure no one was home… Yeah, that’s the right address… Then they busted down our front door, and… Yes, ma’am, the cross street is Fulton… We can hear them upstairs, going through our… What?… Of course we’re in the house. Why else would I be… We’re in the basement… Are you on drugs, lady?… Yeah, me and my brother, Luke… I’m Bennie… It’s Luke and Bennie Mason… What?… No, we didn’t go to school. We just had a few… Look, lady, just get somebody over here before we get murdered… What do you mean they’re already here?”
         Luke listened to Bennie’s side of the 911 call as he rushed quietly up the stairs. He knew if they broke through the heavy front door of the house, they could easily shoulder past this flimsy, hollow-core door, lock or no lock. But he twisted the little tab inside the knob just the same and sat on the floor against door. Then he felt someone bump against the other side of the door. They were in the kitchen.
         “Luke! Luke!” Bennie was running out of the bathroom just as the axe made its way through the top panels of the basement door. Luke’s bladder let go at the same time his mind visualized Jack Nicholson sticking his head through the break in the door and announcing, “Heeeeere’s Johnny.”
         Bennie ran up the stairs and hugged his brother. “Luke, they’re not home invaders. They’re firemen. Isn’t that great, Luke? The house is on fire.” Bennie helped Luke to his feet. “Eww, gross, dude, your pants are all wet. Come on. Let’s get out of here.”
         Luke unlocked the tattered door, surprised to see all the smoke and the water running down the kitchen walls. The fire fighter led the boys out the back door and into the arms of their mother who clutched them both fiercely.
         “You boys are in so much trouble.” She stepped back and looked into the eyes of two very relieved, very sober siblings.


*Fire*  *Home*  *Fire*  *Home*  *Fire*  *Home*  *Fire*  *Home*  *Fire*


[796 words]
© Copyright 2012 Winnie Kay (winniekay at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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