Casey McBadbat's Arc

Chapter 3 of 3

Casey didn't sleep. He sat on the trailer steps until the sun came up, then watched the youngest drag more concrete blocks across the yard. The boy hadn't stopped. Casey had told him to quit and the kid just nodded and kept working. By noon the foundation had a floor. By sunset there were walls. The kid had rigged up a lantern pole with oil lamps and Greek statue supports — same muscled figures from the middle boy's sketch, but smaller. Stolen probably. The light turned the mud orange and let him keep going after dark. Casey walked out twice to yell at him and both times the words died in his throat. The kid looked up with Casey's own eyes and went back to hammering. Around midnight Casey found the dock planks missing from the back of the property. They were nailed across the roof now. Swim trunks hung from a nail by the door like a flag. The youngest had built himself a whole structure — some kind of man cave retreat with a carved figure on the side. Too much work to tear down without making it mean something. Casey stood in the lantern light and felt his chest go tight. This wasn't about winning anymore. The kid had locked himself into a path Casey couldn't pull him off without breaking something. Casey walked to the door and knocked. The youngest opened it, sweating and covered in splinters. "You're gonna finish this," Casey said. Not a question. The boy nodded. Casey looked past him at the empty room with its stolen dock floor and makeshift walls. "Then you're gonna live in it. Not in the trailer." The kid's face went white. Casey turned and walked back across the mud. He'd wanted all four boys under one roof. Now he'd have three. The choice had been made for him, and he'd let it happen by not choosing fast enough.