Page 113 of Run Away Home: Tempered

“You look nicer than normal.”

“Are you saying I normally look bad?” I stare at him.

“No!” He laughs.

“Okay, good. Are you going to go eat breakfast, or do you have more questions?”

“I’ll go eat.” He leaves my room.

I sigh, go to my dresser, and open the second drawer. Underneath my clothing, I find my roll of duct tape and stick it in my pocket. I walk into the bathroom and brush my teeth. My homemade deodorant is in the cabinet along with Pop’s one-and-only bottle of cologne. He never wore this crap. I sniff it. It smells better than the chicken coop. I spray some on my wrists and rub it in.

I head down the hall to the kitchen. Adair is at the table, but Ma is nowhere to be seen. Adair has a glass of milk and a plate with eggs, tomatoes, beans, and toast. He also has a smaller dish with one of the pastries I got from Mr. Glas. A meal fit for a prince. I grab a slice of toast off of his plate.

“I know why you think they’re so good.” I point to the cream buns.

He looks up at me with his big blue eyes. Everyone in our family has blue eyes and red hair, except for me.

“Why?”

“Mr. Glas says he puts maple in them.” I take a bite of his toast.

“I KNEW IT! I knew there was maple in here. Ma! Ma!”

Ma comes stomping down the hallway from her bedroom. She wants me to know she’s coming...and she’s angry.

“What are you doing?!” she shouts as she eyes me standing by the table.

“There’s maple in here! Remember, I told you I thought that? I was right!” Adair exclaims.

“I’m not talking to you, Adair. I’m talking to your lazy brother!”

“I’m heading out there now,” I reply.

“Not before you eat your brother’s breakfast, though?”

“I’m eating a piece of toast.”

“You should have been out there an hour ago! Your father would be out there at six in the morning during this time of the season.”

“Fine.” I take one last bite and put the toast down.

“Ma! Did you hear what I said about the pastries?”

“I did, mo laochain,” she says calmly as she walks over to the sink.

“It’d be nice if you made me breakfast too,” I add.

“You’re a grown man. You can make your own breakfast.”

“You always made Pop breakfast. I’m pretty sure he was a grown man.”

“You’re right. He was a man. That’s why he didn’t do women’s work like preparing breakfast.” She starts scrubbing the pan in the sink. “Men who work need energy.”

“I do work too, Ma! I do work!”

“You hardly do anything except run around town chasing after tourist girls. Leave the girls alone! Maybe I’ll make you breakfast when I see the fence completed.”

“I told you, I don’t know how to—”

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