Page 7 of Severed Heart
“Sorry, Daddy,” I say, putting my hand down. “I wasn’t salutin’. The sun was in my eyes. I was just ... well, Barrett—”
“Best think a little longer before lying to me, Tyler,” Daddy warns.
“I was just—”
“Oh, I heard what you were telling him,” he says in the same way he does when he’s playing with me. I squint at him as he tosses Barrett around, making him giggle.
“Every single word, Son, including your curses.” He sounds like he’s playing with me again, and I swear I see him smile, but the sun blocks it. He spins Barrett ’round one more time, and Barrett squeals before he lets him down.
“Thanks for catchin’ me, Uncle Carter. I’m sorry we didn’t listen. I tried to tell Tyler we would get in trouble. Are you gonna whoop me too?”
“We’ll see. You can spend dinner thinking about what you’ve done.” Daddy puts a hand on Barrett’s shoulder. “Now, go get washed up and take your seat at the table for grace.”
“K,” Barrett says, making big eyes at me behind Daddy’s back.
“Sorry, what was that?” Dad calls after him.
“I mean,yessir,” Barrett shouts behind him as he runs toward the porch.
Daddy kneels next to me and picks up the apple I bit into and tossed on the ground. “Son, if you’re going to take responsibility for being the oldest and in charge, you best know what you’re doing before you start doling out orders and lectures.”
“But I’ve been watching you, Pawpaw, and Uncle Grayson, so I know what to do.”
He smiles and shakes his head. “Is that right?”
“Yes, sir.”
“All right then. Tell me, son, how much is an apple?”
“Pardon?”
“Buying time and being polite won’t give you the answer. So, I’m going to ask you again. Do you know the cost of an apple?”
I swallow and swat a fly away from my nose. “No sir, I don’t.”
“And why is that?”
“Because we don’t have to buy them.” I smile and stretch my arms out. “We own a farm!”
“True, but wedohave tosellthe apples to make money, and you just cost your Pawpaw the money for that apple, which you will pay for.” He picks up Barrett’s apple. “Think we can sell a bruised apple?”
“No, sir, I’m sorry—”
“Your apology doesn’t count, Tyler. You’re not apologizing because you’re sorry—only because you got caught. If you want to be a real man, apologize when you mean it, or it never will count for anyone. And don’t think you can fool them. People know when you mean it and when you don’t.”
“Yes, sir.”
He lifts my ballcap and ruffles my hair. “You’ll be a man soon enough, but until you are, you have no business lecturing another boy on how to be something you aren’t. Understood?”
“Yes, sir,” I tell him as he pulls my cap back down.
“Now come on, your mother’s called youtwicefor dinner, so if you want to keep some hide on that butt, I suggest you get washed up and to the table.”
I nod as we start to walk toward the patio where the family sits on picnic benches. “Hey, Daddy?”
“Yes?”
“How much will be mine? You know... when I become a man?”
