Defined By Deceit

He was four units down from his trailer when the door to a single unit sprang open and a man about his age bounded down the steps with a large bag of trash in his hand. Llew kept up his pace, but ended up meeting the man at the end of his driveway. He tried to move around the trashcans without acknowledging him.

“Llew. Llewellyn Gardner. Is that you?” The man dropped his bag in one of the cans and took a couple tentative steps closer to him.

Llew lifted his head higher, letting his old football teammate get a look at him.

“Holy shit, dude. When did you get out?”

Silence.

“Do you remember me? Jace Skeeter. I was a corner on the team during your senior year.”

Llew just nodded his head once, his dark eyes boring into the guy’s skull. He wasn’t in the mood to have a chat about the good ole days. Jace probably took Llew’s glare and silence as hostility, because he backed up with his hands out in a pacifying gesture. “Sorry, man. Didn’t mean to bother you. I, uh. I don’t want any problems ya know? All that shit you did, I don’t give a damn. I live here now with my wife and two boys; so long as you stay down there, and away from my kids… we’re cool.”

Away from your kids. Llew shoved his hands back in his pockets and kept walking to the end of the cul-de-sac. He saw Leslie sitting on the steps watching him walk up. “What did that asshole say, Llew?”

Llew ignored the question, brushing past his brother into their trailer, not stopping until he was in his bedroom. He closed and locked the door, sliding down the hard wood until his ass hit the thick carpet. He dropped his head in his hands, pushing his thumbs into the throbbing at his temples. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

“Llewellyn. Are you alright?”

Silence.

“Llew it’s gonna take some time. Don’t let the bullshit of these petty-minded people get to you.”

Silence.

“Llew, please. Talk to me.”

Silence.

He heard his brother sigh just outside his door. “I’ll be out here watching the game if you want to watch it with me. Otherwise, we leave for work at six. Okay? Wear something warm.”

Silence.

“Llew, I love you, bro, and I’m glad you’re home.”

Llew’s throat felt like it had a boulder lodged in it. Even if he had wanted to respond, he couldn’t. Finally, he heard footsteps retreating down the hall. After sitting there in the dark for a couple hours, Llew undressed down to his briefs and climbed into his bed. The mattress was soft and plush, almost folding in on him. He didn’t remember it feeling like this when he was young. He reared up and pulled back the fitted sheet, squinting in confusion at the thick foamy cushion on top of his mattress. What the hell is that? Llew pushed into the soft material and watched in awe as the foam molded to his palm, then went back to its original form when he removed it. He shook his head, tucking the sheet back under the mattress. He glanced over at the small alarm clock on his nightstand – two fifteen in the morning – he flipped from side to side on the unusual surface before he finally pulled the comforter off his bed and stretched out on the hard floor. Sleep came quickly.

Chapter Ten

“Um, Llew. You going to work today?” Leslie asked, uncertainly. At five fifteen in the morning, he looked uncomfortable standing just inside the back door, watching Llew work out in the freezing cold in only a pair of worn cargo pants and a sweaty tank top. He had each forearm linked through a cinderblock while he alternated lifting them to shoulder level.

He answered by dropping the concrete blocks onto the ground, then stacking them back with the others against the shed. “Yeah,” he said brushing past him to hurry and get changed.

“Here’s an extra pair of gloves, Llew. You’ll need them. It’s getting cold now, and we’re pruning back rose bushes this week.” Leslie held the synthetic leather gloves out to him and he reluctantly took them. They looked expensive and unnecessary. Gloves were a luxury that the state couldn’t afford its laborers. His brother went about preparing two large thermoses of coffee, using a fancy-looking machine. Even the creamer looked expensive. It said vanilla¸ caramel, macchia—something on the container. Oblivious to Llew’s discomfort, Leslie continued. “I know you did primarily construction when you were in prison, but I still do the same things you used to help me with during your summer breaks. You remember? Hedging, pruning, mulching.”

When Llew didn’t respond, Leslie stopped what he was doing and turned to him. “You remember?”

A simple head nod was all he gave, making his older brother shake his head at him. “A man of few words, huh.”