looked at Duane. He saw a confused, angry young man in need of guidance. But Dustin saw much more than that in Duane. Duane hated. Specifically, he hated Travis. Probably because the old man wasn't around anymore. And every kind act Travis did for Duane only fueled him to hate even more. Duane didn't want their help. And it was long past time to send him on his way. But anytime he tried to convince Travis, he got yelled at.
"I'm sorry," Travis said, "for losing my temper that night and for fighting with you. I really am sorry."
Duane's expression softened somewhat.
"You need help, Duane. I'm trying to give you a better start than I had. You may hate me for whatever reason, but I'm begging you to take advantage of having three older brothers who all want to see you succeed."
"Succeed?" Duane laughed. "You're a fucking mechanic. You've got nothing. You're no better than me."
Dustin rested his head on his folded hands and prayed for patience.
"It's not about that, Duane," Travis said. "It's about finding some peace in this world. Some way to be happy. Now if you don't want to work at the shop with us, that's fine. If you don't want to live in Splitlog anymore, again, that's fine. Just tell us what you want and let us help you get there."
"What I want is for you to get off your goddamn high horse and admit that you're no better than me."
"I've never said I'm better than you," Travis said through his gritted teeth.
"You think I need your help. You think you've got something I want."
"Then what is it you do want, Duane?"
Duane glared hatefully at him. "I don't know. But I know I don't want anything from you."
Travis jumped to his feet. "Except to live in my house and eat my food, right?"
Dustin stood slowly, preparing to break up another fight.
"Right!" Duane was on his feet, too. The coffee table stood between him and Travis. "I figure you owe me that, you piece of shit, for abandoning me when I was a kid."
Travis shook his head and took a step forward. That coffee table had been their grandmother's and Travis would have just barreled right through it. He just didn't think beyond the moment, that was his trouble. Dustin put his hand on Travis's chest to keep him from going any further. A few moments passed while Travis fought against his own rage and Duane stood there with a hint of a smile, just daring Travis to lunge at him. And then Travis seemed to calm. Slowly he released his fists.
Finally he relaxed enough to step back. "I'm going out to the garage," he said. He turned and left.
When he was gone, Duane laughed. Dustin turned on him, grabbed him by the front of the shirt and slammed him against the wall. Duane was completely caught off guard.
"Listen to me, you little piece of shit," Dustin said. "This is your last chance, you hear me? I don't care what Travis says, this is my house too. And if you ever hit another woman again you're out of here." Dustin let go of Duane and stepped back. Duane never looked afraid of Dustin, but he looked afraid now.
"Take it easy, Dustin," Duane said, his voice quivering. "I thought you and me were getting along fine."
"Well you thought wrong," Dustin said, calmly this time. "Travis is your best friend in the world. If it weren't for him, you'd be out on your ass right now. And until you show some sign of getting your life on track, I'm going to do everything I can to talk him into turning you out. And God help you if you fuck up again. Travis will stand in front of you and defend you, but I swear to God I'll put him in the hospital if that's what I have to do to get you out of our lives. Last chance, Duane."
Then Dustin turned and went to the garage with Travis.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Life for Emma Harris was generally peachy keen. It was Friday morning and as per her usual schedule, she donned her Sunday skirt and blouse, arranged her hair in a loose knot at the nape of her neck, and shoved into her black
"I'm sorry," Travis said, "for losing my temper that night and for fighting with you. I really am sorry."
Duane's expression softened somewhat.
"You need help, Duane. I'm trying to give you a better start than I had. You may hate me for whatever reason, but I'm begging you to take advantage of having three older brothers who all want to see you succeed."
"Succeed?" Duane laughed. "You're a fucking mechanic. You've got nothing. You're no better than me."
Dustin rested his head on his folded hands and prayed for patience.
"It's not about that, Duane," Travis said. "It's about finding some peace in this world. Some way to be happy. Now if you don't want to work at the shop with us, that's fine. If you don't want to live in Splitlog anymore, again, that's fine. Just tell us what you want and let us help you get there."
"What I want is for you to get off your goddamn high horse and admit that you're no better than me."
"I've never said I'm better than you," Travis said through his gritted teeth.
"You think I need your help. You think you've got something I want."
"Then what is it you do want, Duane?"
Duane glared hatefully at him. "I don't know. But I know I don't want anything from you."
Travis jumped to his feet. "Except to live in my house and eat my food, right?"
Dustin stood slowly, preparing to break up another fight.
"Right!" Duane was on his feet, too. The coffee table stood between him and Travis. "I figure you owe me that, you piece of shit, for abandoning me when I was a kid."
Travis shook his head and took a step forward. That coffee table had been their grandmother's and Travis would have just barreled right through it. He just didn't think beyond the moment, that was his trouble. Dustin put his hand on Travis's chest to keep him from going any further. A few moments passed while Travis fought against his own rage and Duane stood there with a hint of a smile, just daring Travis to lunge at him. And then Travis seemed to calm. Slowly he released his fists.
Finally he relaxed enough to step back. "I'm going out to the garage," he said. He turned and left.
When he was gone, Duane laughed. Dustin turned on him, grabbed him by the front of the shirt and slammed him against the wall. Duane was completely caught off guard.
"Listen to me, you little piece of shit," Dustin said. "This is your last chance, you hear me? I don't care what Travis says, this is my house too. And if you ever hit another woman again you're out of here." Dustin let go of Duane and stepped back. Duane never looked afraid of Dustin, but he looked afraid now.
"Take it easy, Dustin," Duane said, his voice quivering. "I thought you and me were getting along fine."
"Well you thought wrong," Dustin said, calmly this time. "Travis is your best friend in the world. If it weren't for him, you'd be out on your ass right now. And until you show some sign of getting your life on track, I'm going to do everything I can to talk him into turning you out. And God help you if you fuck up again. Travis will stand in front of you and defend you, but I swear to God I'll put him in the hospital if that's what I have to do to get you out of our lives. Last chance, Duane."
Then Dustin turned and went to the garage with Travis.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Life for Emma Harris was generally peachy keen. It was Friday morning and as per her usual schedule, she donned her Sunday skirt and blouse, arranged her hair in a loose knot at the nape of her neck, and shoved into her black
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