his welding and ambled over to the flatbed pickup. Dad followed, still
hollering. Shawn pulled off his gloves, slowly, delicately, one finger at a
time, as if there weren’t a man screaming six inches from his face. For
several moments he stood still, letting the abuse wash over him, then he
stepped into the pickup and drove off, leaving Dad to shout at the dust.
I remember the awe I felt as I watched that pickup roll down the dirt road.
Shawn was the only person I had ever seen stand up to Dad, the only one
whose force of mind, whose sheer tonnage of conviction, could make Dad
give way. I had seen Dad lose his temper and shout at every one of my
brothers. Shawn was the only one I ever saw walk away.
It was a Saturday night. I was at Grandma-over-in-town’s, my math book
propped open on the kitchen table, a plate of cookies next to me. I was
studying to retake the ACT. I often studied at Grandma’s so Dad wouldn’t
lecture me.
The phone rang. It was Shawn. Did I want to watch a movie? I said I did,
and a few minutes later I heard a loud rumble and looked out the window.
With his booming black motorcycle and his wide-brimmed Aussie hat, he
seemed entirely out of place parking parallel to Grandma’s white picket
fence. Grandma started making brownies, and Shawn and I went upstairs to
choose a movie.
We paused the movie when Grandma delivered the brownies. We ate them
in silence, our spoons clicking loudly against Grandma’s porcelain plates.
“You’ll get your twenty-seven,” Shawn said suddenly when we’d finished.
“It doesn’t matter,” I said. “I don’t think I’ll go either way. What if Dad’s
right? What if I get brainwashed?”
Shawn shrugged. “You’re as smart as Dad. If Dad’s right, you’ll know
when you get there.”
The movie ended. We told Grandma good night. It was a balmy summer
evening, perfect for the motorcycle, and Shawn said I should ride home with
him, we’d get the car tomorrow. He revved the engine, waiting for me to
climb on. I took a step toward him, then remembered the math book on
Grandma’s table.
“You go,” I said. “I’ll be right behind you.”
Shawn yanked his hat down on his head, spun the bike around and charged
down the empty street.