Free For Your Tomorrow by Melanie Murray

They’ve been warned to keep their “lips
zipped” until they reach the gym. Mica is in the middle of the pack, so she doesn’t see him until she’s almost abreast of him. Her jaw drops
.
    Outside the door of the seventh grade classroom, her brother sits alone at a desk, an unopened book in front of him. Her eyes bulge in disbelief, her lips twitch with the urge to speak to him. With a long questioning stare, she meets his eyes. He flashes her a grin
.
    Five years younger, Mica idolized her big brother. As a toddler, she wore his outgrown jeans, T-shirts and sweaters. She tried—unsuccessfully—to be included whenever his friends came over to play, yearning to be one of the guys. She worked hard at emulating her brother’s proficiency in playing hockey, soccer and baseball. For her first day of preschool, Mica refused to put on the new white blouse, red plaid kilt and matching knee socks that her mother had bought specially for this occasion. She would not leave the house unless she could wear her blue jeans and T-shirt. When her mother came to pick her up at noon, the teacher called Marion aside. “I’m not sure how to put this,” she whispered, “but …?” She told Marion about introducing Mica to the group: “Today children, we have a new girl in our class. This is …”
    But before she could finish, Mica interrupted: “I a boy.”
    From the outset, Jeff resented this “little princess,” as he called her. She had usurped his throne as the only grandchild and the sole focus of his grandmother’s affection. He bullied her constantly. He’d come downstairs to the TV room where she’d be curled up on the couch watching her favourite show, grab the remote and change the channel.Mica would run upstairs to tell her mother; he’d call her a tattletale … and so the pattern perpetuated itself in many variations. While Jeff was slogging through the quagmire of adolescent angst, Mica was climbing high, achieving top grades in school and excelling in sports—just “a goody-goody,” in Jeff’s view. Once Mica became a teenager, herself, she no longer cared about his antagonizing tactics. When he came down to watch TV, she’d throw the remote at him. He gave up tormenting her.
    In grade eleven, school took a back seat in Jeff’s life. He was preoccupied with his friends and heavy metal music. Before going out on the weekends, he’d spend an hour in front of the mirror, styling his hair in a spiky upswept imitation of British punk rocker Billy Idol. Strumming his guitar, he fantasized about becoming a rock star. He developed leftist views and derided the military—its conservatism, hierarchy and itinerant lifestyle. He found his father’s constant change in postings stressful—from Oromocto to Halifax, then to Ottawa, then to Winnipeg, then back to Ottawa—especially during his teenage years when he was severed from his pack of buddies with every move.
    He skipped school, drank on the weekends and disregarded his curfew. Sometimes he didn’t come home at all, and didn’t call. He wanted to be in control of his own life and do things his own way. Russ had grown up with a strict military father, and as a soldier himself, he thought rules and orders should be unquestioningly obeyed. Power struggles ensued between father and son. They squared off in verbally abusive shouting matches that left a dense fog oftension in the air between them. Marion knew they needed a different approach to dealing with Jeff’s rebelliousness, so she enrolled in a course—STEP/Teen: Systematic Training for Effective Parenting of Teens. She learned parenting strategies that encouraged teenagers to become responsible for themselves and the consequences of their actions. Late one night when Russ was away on a course, she had the opportunity to put the theory into practice.
    It’s after midnight when she’s awakened by the ringing of the phone. “This is Officer Brant of the Winnipeg Police Department. Are you the parent