Patrick's Story Pt. 02

The Jaxton Family

Patrick's story. A miniseries.

Part 2

"PAT! SHAWN! WAIT UP!" the voice is Feline, Patrick's annoying, weird little sibling.

"We should really wait for your sister, dude." Shawn stops peddling on his mountain bike and slows down as Patrick rolls his eyes.

"She knows where we're going. She'll catch up." Patrick says, redoubling his peddling efforts.

"Well, I'm staying here. What if she gets hurt or something?" Shawn brakes and sits on his seat as his best friend Patrick zooms right by him.

Patrick slows, turns around and stares at his friend from down the block. Another eye roll, and he peddles over to his best buddy, Shawn.

"I hate that we gotta take her everywhere." Pat mumbles, placing tanned forearms on the handlebars of his mountain bike, watching his little sibling desperately trying to catch up.

"You should be happy you have a sister, Pat. I wish I had a brother or sister." Shawn frowns, white blonde hair hanging almost down to his shoulders.

Pat rolls his eyes at his best friend.

"For real, Patty. You're lucky. And she's not that annoying." Shawn tries a smile.

"FINE!" Patrick relents and they both peddle back to his little 7-year-old sister, Feline Jaxton, as she peddles with all her might on Pat's old BMX he handed down to her.

"You guys go too fast." Feline gasps as she takes a break, both boys pulling up in their much larger bikes.

"Sorry Kitten." Shawn smiles, laying a hand on Feline's shoulder. "We'll wait for you from now on. Right Pat?"

Pat sighs and nods.

"Ya, sorry Cat." Pat says. Trying to sound sincere.

His little sister was always wanting to come with him and Shawn. They've lived in Cayucos for almost 5 years now, and she still hadn't made any friends of her own. Seeming to prefer the company of her brother and his friends.

Slowly, the trio make their way over to Shawn's house. Nestled firmly up against the large rock face in the middle of the sleepy little beach town. Throwing their bikes down on the lawn, the children make their way into the house, shedding coats and backpacks.

"Think it's gonna rain?" Shawn asks, pulling soda's from his fridge for his friends.

"Here Cat. Cherry Coke."

"YAY!" Feline leaps over and grabs the can from Shawn and hugs him. "Thank you!"

"It's just a soda, Kitten." Shawn laughs.

"YA! The best soda!" Feline giggles, popping the tab and taking a big gulp. "AH!"

"No way. Root beer." Pat shakes his head. "Root beer is best, right, Shawn?"

"I'm not getting in the middle of this!" Shawn laughs and takes a big bag of chips out of the cupboard.

Together, the children make their way into the huge living room and turn on the TV.

"If it doesn't rain, we're going down to the quarry, right?" Patrick says excitedly, eating several chips at once.

"HECK YA!" Shawn hi fives his buddy. "Bring your fishing rod?"

"It's poking out my backpack right there, Shawny Boy!" Patrick points over to his pack, laying on the kitchen floor.

"I dug up a bunch of worms last night." Shawn nods, taking a sip of his root beer.

Feline pulls several My Little Pony toys from her pockets and starts to play with them, marching them across Shawn's dad's grand piano, sipping Cherry Coke, big smile on her face.

"Is that a new one?" Shawn asks her, coming beside her and picking up a completely black pony with purple hair.

"YUP! Nightmare Moon!" Feline giggles. "He's so cool!"

"Don't you mean she?" Shawn asks, returning the pony to her, with the others.

"NOPE! HE!" Feline smiles, continuing with her imagination play.

"Cat, they're girls. You watch the cartoon. They're all girls!" Pat laughs, thinking his sister quite strange.

"NOPE BOYS!" Feline says in finality, putting her hands on her hips like she's seen her mother do when scolding her children.

"Boys it is." Shawn looks over at his friend and shrugs, coming to sit back down on the couch as the guys watch Star Wars Clone Wars animated series.

After refreshments and a few episodes of the Star Wars animation the children get ready to head to the granite quarry where some of the best fishing can be found.

This time, the boys wait for Feline and take their time as they peddle the 20 minutes it takes to get to the fishing spot.

The kids have been fishing for hours, there's several little bass fish in Shawn's basket. Their prize for tonight.

"Think your dad will mind cooking those for us?" Pat asks Shawn, a long piece of wild grass hanging out of the corner of his mouth.

"Well, if he does, we'll just have them at your house tomorrow." Shawn nods, hoping his father would be in a good enough mood when he got home to cook a decent meal tonight. He was getting tired of fast food or fending for himself.

"Shawn, why's your dad so cranky all the time?" Pat touches Shawn's shoulder after his friends casts his line out again.

"He's...got a stressful job. It's hard now that Mom's gone." Shawn tells him.

"He was cranky before your Mom left, dude." Pat remarks, making another cast with his own rod.

"He's under a lot of pressure." Shawn mutters.

Pat knows after that to keep peace.

"PATTY! SHAWN! LOOK!" Feline runs over to the boys with something in her hand. Obviously alive and squirming.

"Holy crap, Cat found a whiptail!" Pat jumps up excitedly, forgetting the line he just cast out.

The lizard is angry and trying to bite the small 7-year-old, but she's been catching lizards her whole life. He has no chance to land a chomp.

"Gnarly!" Shawn exclaims, coming over to inspect the little animal.

Together, the three of them poke and prod the poor thing, albeit gently. Eventually deciding they should let it go.

"Nooooo." Feline pouts. Not wanting to release her prize.

"Cat, he's a wild animal. We can't keep him!" Pat laughs. "Mom would MURDER us dead!"

"We can sneak him in!" Feline smiles then, her eyes fiendish, filled with mischief.

"Ya, and then he'll get out like that snake you found a couple of months ago. And mom will find it and scream at us and ground us!" Pat shakes his head.

Feline sighs, and relinquishes the lizard to her brother, who places it high up in a rock formation behind the children. It scurries away, none the worse for wear.

"Boo." Feline kicks several rocks into the quarry, and Pat's line from his fishing rod starts to run.

"PAT! Your rod!" Shawn shouts as both boys run over before the whole thing is pulled down the rocks into the quarry pool below.

It takes both of them to reel in whatever is attached to the line. Feline screaming and jumping up and down the whole time.

"GO PAT! GO SHAWN!" she yells, clearly thrilled with what's happening.

Eventually, a giant rainbow trout is pulled up and out of the water by the two boys as all three squeal in surprise and joy.

"HOLY SHIT, SHAWN! That thing is like 20 pounds!" Pat leaps excitedly as Shawn helps remove the hook from its mouth as it flips and flaps, trying to escape.

"We're gonna eat good tonight!" Shawn laughs.

"Patty no swearing." Feline frowns. "Mom doesn't like it."

"Mom's not here, Cat." Pat grins, picking up his fish and holding it excitedly.

It's large. Huge! The fact that two 11-year-olds managed to pull the fish in is nothing short of miraculous. The trout is dangling from both Patrick's hands as he hefts it. It's as long as he is.

"It's beautiful." Shawn admires. "Good one Patty!"

"Hey, you helped" Pat smiles and hands the fish over to Shawn who easily dispatches it as Feline turns away, not wanting to watch.

Just then, a sudden crack of thunder and a large flash of lightening directly overhead startle the three children out of their reverie. Immediately, a torrential downpour starts and the children scream and laugh and scramble over the rocks to get back to their bikes, Patrick and Shawn having to take turns carrying their huge fish.

Peddling back to Shawn's home is a misery as all three are soaked completely when they enter the house.

Shawn and Pat gut their catch and deposit their fishes into large plastic freezer bags, but the trout won't fit. No way.

"Plastic wrap." Shawn nods as he's gutting the giant thing. All three children dripping all over the kitchen floor.

After the fish are cleaned and put away in the fridge, Shawn takes his friends to his room where he gives them all some of his dry clothes to wear. Feline takes off to Shawn's en suite, shedding a sopping t shirt and jeans and drying her hair in Shawn's towel. When she emerges, the boys laugh at her, completely dwarfed in a pair of Shawn's soft jogging pants and a Transformers hoodie, hair in a complete disarray. That riot of black springs, going this way and that and trailing down her back.

After that it's more snacks and cartoons on the TV as the storm rages outside. Feline is suddenly scared as the second thunder boom shakes the whole house.

"C'mere." Shawn motions to the little girl as she hovers, wrapped in a blanket from the back of a chair, one eye barely poking out, gripping her ponies for all they are worth.

Shawn and Pat make room for Pat's sister between them, and she cuddles up with them.

"Ponies?" she whispers, eyes threatening tears.

"You bet." Shawn smiles and does a Youtube search for her.

"O God." Pat laughs. "Ponies. Ponies. Ponies."

"She's scared Patty." Shawn's concerned look over at his best friend.

Pat pauses and gazes down at Feline as she shivers in the blanket more for fear than her now only slightly damp hair.

"Baby Bear. You ok?" Pat asks his sister, genuinely concerned.

She shakes her head, huge eyes shut tight as another crack of thunder shakes the house again.

Pat hugs his little sibling and takes another blanket from the back of the couch, covering all three this time as the theme song to My Little Pony Friendship is Magic blares over the loud speakers attached to the gigantic flat screen in Shawn's living room.

Eventually, they hear the telltale sign of Shawn's father's car pull in to the driveway.

Immediately, when he comes in, his father isn't impressed.

"SHAWN!" Soren bellows from the front door.

Shawn sighs, divesting himself of the cozy blanket, and goes to see what his father wants.

Norwegian is spoken, loud and forceful. The front door opens and Shawn leaves, only to come back in completely soaked again.

More Norwegian and Shawn gets a giant towel from the hall closet, and a mop, and sets to work mopping up all the rainwater and muck the children had tracked in earlier.

"C'mon." Shawn motions, helping Feline off the couch and wrapping a blanket tight around her. "Dad wants to watch the game."

"O? Who's playing!" Pat is immediately interested.

Shawn shakes his head and motions for Pat to get up.

The children follow their best friend back down to his room, where Shawn turns on his own TV and sets up the Playstation, handing out controllers to his friends.

"Where did you go, Shawn?" Feline asks, concerned.

"We left our bikes on the lawn. Dad hates that. They're in the garage now." he says flatly.

A can from the living room is cracked, and Shawn's father bellows his name again.

"Be right back." he mutters, leaving the room.

Pat sets up a game on Shawn's Playstation and Feline watches as he totals enemies on the screen in Shawn's room.

Shawn reenters, looking glum.

Pat pauses the game, looking over at his friend.

"Shawn?"

"Can we...go to your place, Patty?" Shawn swallows hard, glancing in the direction of the hallway, rubbing his shoulder nervously. Another can is heard being cracked open from the living room.

"It's pouring out!" Pat groans, not enjoying the prospect of having to bike all the way across town to get back to he and Feline's beachfront property.

"I know." Shawn sighs, resigning himself to staying in. He shuts his door, locking it, and turns to his friends. "Pizza?"

"YAY!" Feline yells, covering her mouth quickly.

Pizza is delivered and Shawn's father pays, calling his son and his friends to the kitchen with that deep, booming voice.

When Pat and Feline enter the dining room, Shawn's father has a large drink in his hand. There's a big bottle of scotch half full on the kitchen island, where several beer cans lay crushed, empty.

"Hello kids." Soren Lindesson stares down at the two Jaxton children, taking another large quaff of his drink and then refilling the glass with nothing else other than some scotch and ice.

"Hello Mr. Lindesson." Feline whispers, in awe of the giant man before her.

"Thanks for pizza, Sir." Pat tries a smile, taking a big bite of meat lovers.

Soren nods and takes his drink and pizza slices into the living room, where he sits and watches the baseball game.

After dinner, Feline and Pat help Shawn tidy up and Shawn pops several bags of microwave popcorn and grabs more sodas.

"Let's go back to my room."

The kids stay up late. Playing games, laughing, making jokes. Eating more junk food than would ever be allowed in their own home.

Feline is asleep in Shawn's bed, Pat yawning as he loses to Shawn in a skateboarding game.

A large crash and a shout from the kitchen instantly wakes up Feline and has Pat and Shawn up and standing.

"No." Shawn says as Pat reaches for the door. "Don't go out there." he warns, shaking his head hard.

"Is your dad ok?" Pat's worried, Feline trembles under the covers as another huge thunder strike shakes the house, lightning flashing through Shawn's huge windows. And then there's another crash and another shout from the hallway this time, close to Shawn's own door.

"He's....fine." Shawn mumbles, tears threaten to sting his eyes.

"SHAWN!" Soren's loud voice, sounding not much like himself at all.

"Fuck." is the only word Shawn says as he opens the door a notch. "Just....stay here, ok guys?"

In the hallway they hear Shawn's father, slurring, shouting, swearing, screaming all manner of things in Norwegian to his young son. Shawn yells back. Sometimes in his first language, sometimes in English.

"Dad, you're embarrassing me in front of my friends!" Shawn yells.

More Norwegian. More shouting. At one point, there's a large noise, like something coming through a wall. Pat holds his sister as she jumps at the sounds coming from outside the door. And then it's quiet.

Shawn enters the room, looking somewhat disheveled.

"You ok?" Pat jumps up and inspects his friend.

"I'm fine Pat." Shawn snaps, instantly feeling guilty at the crestfallen look on his best buddies face. "For real. I'm ok. Dad punched a wall."

Pat's face is shocked. Feline is still hiding under the blankets in Shawn's bed.

"Just, let's put on a movie. He's gone to bed now. I hope." Shawn mutters, pulling a DVD out of a case and plugging it into the player.

The movie is Speed Racer and by the time it's over, Pat and Feline are fast asleep in Shawn's bed as he lays awake, praying for continued silence.

In the morning, the children peek their heads out of the room to find a large, Soren sized fist print embedded by the door to Shawn's room. Totaling the wall.

In the kitchen, as Shawn gets cereal out for everyone, Pat helps by cleaning up the broken glass from the now empty scotch bottle they had seen the evening before.

In the living room, Soren had thrown a glass tumbler against a wall. Pat and Shawn clean that up together as Feline watches, staring with huge eyes at the state of both rooms.

No one says a word, as they leave the house and collect their bikes from the garage, Pat's fish poking its gigantic, plastic wrapped tail out of his backpack.

"Wow, the kids are home early, Kris!" Chuck Jaxton declares as he hears children's voices chatting happily before they open the door.

"DAD!" Pat flies into his father's arms, so grateful to be home in the embrace of a man that's shown him nothing but love and kindness.

"Whoa, hay buddy." Chuck laughs, petting his son's hair.

"Baby Bear." Kristine sighs as her daughter follows suit.

Shawn stands in the living room, awkwardly rubbing his shoulder, before Chuck grabs the young blonde boy and pulls him into the hug with Patrick. His best friend. Shawn closes his eyes, and savors this feeling that he never really got to have with his own father.

"What's up guys?" Kristine is visibly worried.

"We just missed you." Pat says quickly. Too quickly.

Feline just nods, unusually quiet.

Chuck and Kristine exchange looks. They've heard stories. Stories concerning Soren Lindesson. Were their fears confirmed?

"What's for lunch?" Pat pulls away first, a small tear rolling down his cheek. He dashes it away and heads to the kitchen, towing Shawn with him.

"Pat, what is that in your backpack?" Mom laughs, picking up the blue pack and glancing over at her son.

"Pat caught that yesterday." Shawn nods, starting to smile again.

"We both did. Shawn helped. I couldn't get it out of the water without him." Pat says excitedly as their Chuck comes in to inspect his son's handiwork.

"That's an incredible fish, boys! Look at that whopper!" Chuck grins ear to ear as he hefts the 17 pound trout out of the pack and lays it on the island.

"We caught some bass too." Pat adds, "They're in Shawn's bag." he gestures, as the blonde boy dumps the contents of several smaller fish, gutted, in freezer bags, into the sink on the island.

"Well, I know what we're having for lunch!" Kristine declares.

"Not before I get a photo of the boys with this thing!" Chuck grins, getting his digital camera out of the cupboard above the fridge.

"This is so good, Charles!" Shawn smiles around a mouthful of trout. "Thanks!"

"You betcha." Chuck nods over at Shawn, ruffling his hair, as the family sits in the breakfast nook, enjoying rice, a salad, and 2 types of grilled fish from the boys' catch. There's cupcakes on the island, fresh baked by Kristine that morning.

Kristine and Chuck exchange glances again as Pat announces they are going to go surfing.

"Gosh, you kids have boundless energy." Kris remarks, taking dishes into the kitchen and placing them in the dishwasher.

"Remember being that age, Kris?" Chuck smiles at his wife.

"God, no, that was 100 years ago." Kris laughs.

After lunch, Feline heads over to the carriage house with the boys and says goodbye as they collect their boards and gear.

"Hey little Kitten. Can you, yunno, not say anything about my dad?" Shawn looks down at his best friends' sister. Sighing, hating that he has to ask this question. That he has to ask his friends to lie. Especially to Chuck and Kristine, who have been nothing but loving towards him.

Feline just nods. Saying nothing.

"Thanks." Shawn smiles down at her, knowing her silence is as good as gold. Feline knew how to keep a secret. She was great at that.

Boards in hand, dressed in nothing but boarding shorts, Pat and Shawn run down the stairs to the beach, headed over to the pier where they know they'll be able to meet with several of their friends.

Hours pass. Eventually, the sun begins its long descent into the horizon. Dinner will be ready soon. And the boys' stomachs are growling as they pull their boards free of the water and slam them into the sand like giant tombstones.

Pat and Shawn wave goodbye to Nic, Nate and their Dad Alistair O'Connor and start the trek back home. They had went farther down the beach this time, to a new spot the boys have been enjoying. And today was no different.

"Pat, what is that?" Shawn points over to one of the small beach trees that dot along the coast, up from where they wouldn't be drowned by a tide. There's something there. Dark, large, and it looks like it's slightly moving.

"I dunno, Shawn. Let's go check it out!" Pat grabs his friend's arm, and they race over to a small hole dug out under a tree where a black dog lays, wagging his tail.

The dog is thin. Really thin. Emaciated. Bones threatening to poke through his skin, all over. He struggles to get up, rail thin legs wobbling under the weight of his skeletal body.