SPN Fic and Art: Summer of ’93 (G; Gen; Wee!Chesters)
Title: Summer of ‘93
Fandom: SPN
Rating: G; Gen
Medium: Mixed (Pencil, Prismacolor artist pencils, and Prismacolor artist markers for the background, and digital using Photoshop and Corel Painter for the figures)
Notes for artwork: Dean is supposed to be about 14, Sammy about 10.
Summary: Dean’s changing, Dad’s changing, and Sammy’s afraid of what’s going to change next. Just a little jealous!Sammy ficlet to go with the artwork; first person POV, Sammy.
Click to see bigger:
Summer of '93
Dean is so weird.
Not as weird as those two girls who follow him around all day, never more than ten yards behind, giggling and whispering. That’s just creepy.
What’s weird about Dean is that he seems to like it, the following and the giggling and the whispering. He keeps glancing back over his shoulder to make sure they’re still back there and when they see him looking they giggle again, and Dean grins and runs his hand through his hair and sort of…poses. It’s a little disgusting, and I don’t remember Dean doing anything like that the last time we were here.
Pastor Jim’s father has these cabins in Minnesota that he rents out during the summer and they’re really nice; nicer than the kinds of places we usually stay anyway. It’s a good thing that Dad and Pastor Jim are such good friends, because we wouldn’t be able to afford something like this normally. We used to come almost every summer, but then we missed a few years. Last time we were here, I was only seven, and all Dean cared about was going fishing, swimming, and trying to sneak one of Dad’s beers. This time all Dean cares about is talking to those goofy girls, walking around trying to look cool, and trying to sneak one of Dad’s beers. At least one thing hasn’t changed.
Dean’s not the only one acting weird. A couple of weeks ago, Dad got a phone call. He answered the phone in his room, closed the door, and stayed in there a long time. When he came out, he wouldn’t tell us who it was who’d called and he’s been acting strange ever since, really quiet, and he looks worried and sad all the time. Then, a few days ago he called Pastor Jim and after he’d hung up he said, “Pack up, boys, we’re leaving. Gonna spend a couple of weeks at Mr. Murphy’s place. How does that sound?”
Dad had smiled real big, and tried to sound happy, but something wasn’t quite right, and I could tell that Dean thought so, too, by the way he put his big, fake smile on and said, “Sounds great, Dad.” ‘Course, Dean really was happy about going to the cabin; we both were, but we were worried about Dad, too.
It took us a day and a half to get to Mr. Murphy’s property on Lake Vermilion. When we pulled in, Pastor Jim was already there, waiting for us, and I jumped out of the car so quick that Dad said, “Wait ‘til it stops rolling first, son.” Pastor Jim bent down and gave me a tight hug, then tried to hug Dean, but Dean stuck his hand out real fast. Pastor Jim laughed and said, “Too grown up for a hug these days,” and shook Dean’s hand, but then he turned to Dad and opened his arms and they hugged a long time, and Dad’s plenty grown up, so I don’t really know what Dean’s got against hugging.
And then, we’d barely gotten our stuff unloaded before they showed up. These two girls, twin sisters, staying with their family in the next cabin down towards the lake, came over to ask if we needed any help and it feels like they haven’t gone away yet.
The first day we were there, Dean was supposed to take me fishing, but we ended up going to pick blueberries instead because Tammy and Pammy (or Terri and Perri, or whatever the heck their names are) were going, and asked Dean to come with them in case there were snakes. Like Dean would know what to do with a snake?
The next day, Dean still didn’t take me fishing because Terri and Perri (whatever) said their Dad had rented a boat for the day and they were going water-skiing and asked Dean to come along. Dean looked a little uncomfortable about that, and finally just asked them, “Can my little brother come?” When Terri (or Tammy? Or Perri. Or Pammy?), without even taking her eyes off Dean long enough to look at me, said that it would be okay if I came, too, Dean perked right up. He put his arm around me and said, “Come on, Sammy. Let’s get changed into our swimsuits and get some towels.” I was glad he was bringing me along, but it still wasn’t the same as fishing.
We stayed out on the water almost the whole day and we could see Dad and Pastor Jim in Mr. Murphy’s little boat, tucked up in a shallow cove. They waved at us every time the boat we were on passed in front of them. They were fishing. I was still glad I was with Dean, though, because we’d never been water-skiing before and watching him smack into the water over and over and over was really funny.
When we got back to the cabin, we were sun-burnt and tired in that way that feels really good; the kind of tired you only get after spending a whole day having fun. I could have gone straight to bed, but there was a big plate of garlic bread on the table, and Pastor Jim had just finished frying the fish he and Dad caught, and Dad was making a salad, so me and Dean washed up and sat down to eat.
After Pastor Jim said grace, we dug into the food like we hadn’t eaten in a week. Dad asked us if we’d had fun that day and ‘course we said we did, and for a minute there Dad’s smile looked real. Dean started jabbering non-stop, talking about everything he’d learned. ‘And when the boat starts moving you gotta keep your knees together and push forward with both feet.’ Dad grinned and nodded and when Dean was finished, Dad turned to me and said, “You learn anything new today, Sammy?” and I said that yeah, I’d learned what Dean’s face looks like right before he wipes out and smashes into the water. That got a laugh so I figured I’d show ‘em so they could really appreciate it and I screwed my face up into that look of surprise, plus fear, plus ‘oh shit’ that I’d seen on Dean’s face about a hundred times that day. Dean whapped me across the head, but it was worth it for the big laugh it got out of Dad.
That night, when me and Dean were in bed, I could hardly keep my eyes open, but I did manage to say, “We’re going fishing tomorrow, right? You promised,” and Dean reached over and ruffled my hair.
“Yes, Sammy, yes. We’re going fishing tomorrow, okay? I promise.”
I snorted. “If Tammy doesn’t have somethin’ else for you to do.” Dean ignored that one, so I said, “Hey, Dean? Why do you let those girls follow you around like that? It’s really annoying.”
Dean laughed a little. “I don’t know, Sammy. It’s just kinda fun. I don’t know why, really.” He sounded really sleepy, like maybe he didn’t even know he was still talking when he said, “It’s like havin’ a couple of dogs in heat sniffin’ around and I’m the only stud in town.”
That made me laugh, but I could hear Dean already snoring a little so I don’t think he heard me when I said, “That’s gross, man.”
The next morning, after breakfast, we were finally, finally ready to go fishing. Pastor Jim had gotten some fishing rods ready for us and had tackle boxes loaded up, and he’d even put a little cooler out, already packed with sandwiches and sodas. And wouldn’t you know it, but the minute we stepped out the door, there they were. Tammy and Pammy. Tammy had a camera hanging around her neck.
“Hey Dean!” she said, all chirpy and annoying. “We’re going on a hike. Come with?”
I got tense really quick, but Dean said, “Nah, me and my brother are fishin’ today. Had it planned for days, right Sammy?” I nodded, happy, and for some reason Tammy’s disappointed face made it even better.
Suddenly Tammy’s face brightened up, though, and she said, “Hey Dean, let me take a picture of you.” Dean looked embarrassed and he kind of shook his head ‘no’, but she said, “Come on, please? Tomorrow’s our last day here and I want to have a picture to remember you by. We’re going into town this afternoon and I’m going to get my film developed. I can get a copy of the picture for you, too.”
I rolled my eyes. That had to be the stupidest thing she’d said all week. Why in the heck would Dean want a picture of himself? But Dean looked interested all the sudden and he said, “You’ll get me a copy?” and when she nodded, he put down his fishing rod and the tackle box and put his arm around my shoulders and said, “Come on, Sammy, let’s get a picture.”
Tammy looked weird and said, “Oh, I meant…my sister was going to take a picture of us, Dean.”
Dean said, “Oh. Well, we can do that next, can’t we?” Tammy nodded and looked happier, and even though I thought it was kind of stupid I agreed because Dean looked like this was something he really wanted to do. He bent down and put his arm around me and hugged me in tight and I had to smile a little when it hit me that I’m the only one Dean’ll still hug these days.
Tammy snapped the picture then took my place beside Dean and it made me happy to see that Dean didn’t put his arm around her for their picture like he’d done me. She didn’t seem to care, though, and her sister took the picture. After smiling and batting her eyelashes like a gnat had flown into her eye or something, and saying, “See you later,” she took off with her sister. Giggling and whispering.
Later, that night at supper, with my mouth full of fried fish that I had caught, thank you very much, I said, “Dean’s got a girlfriend.”
That got me a cuff to the head from Dean, but Dad grinned and Pastor Jim said, “Ah, which one, Tammy or Paige?” (Paige? Really??)
Dean wasn’t talking so I answered for him. “Tammy. I guess. Kinda hard to tell the difference.”
Pastor Jim laughed and then said, “You know, Dean, the Carters come here every summer. If John’ll bring you boys back next summer, I’m sure you’ll see Tammy and Paige again. They’re nice girls.”
“Huh,” I said. “They’re like a couple of dogs in heat sniffin’ around, and Dean’s the only stud in town.”
Dean kicked me under the table, Pastor Jim choked on his food, and Dad’s eyes got big and he said, “Sammy! Where’d you hear something like that?”
I knew better than to look at Dean, so I concentrated really hard on the mac ‘n cheese Pastor Jim had made to go with our fish, pushing it around on my plate and painstakingly threading a noodle onto each tine of my fork. When I had noodles covering all four prongs, I held up my fork and said, “Lookit that.” Not the best way I’d ever come up with to change the subject, but it mostly worked because Pastor Jim just grinned and shook his head a little and Dad, who was trying not to smile, I could tell, turned to Dean and only said, “If you’re going to be an influence on your brother, try to be a good one, please?”
I managed to make it through dinner without saying anything else to cause trouble. After dinner, me and Dean cleaned up the dishes and when we went to say ‘goodnight’ and head off for bed, Dad and Pastor Jim were sitting outside on the porch swing, drinking beer. Dad looked happier than he’d looked in a really long time, and I went to sleep wishing we could just live here all the time.
I wish I had stayed asleep that night. But I’d spent another whole day out in the sun, fishing, and I woke up a couple of hours later with my mouth all dry and feeling like I was gonna die if I didn’t get some water. Dean was snoring and I figured Dad and Pastor Jim were asleep, too, so I went, really quiet, into the kitchen. I had a glass in my hand and was headed to the sink to get my water when I heard talking and looked up to see, through the screen door, Dad and Pastor Jim still sitting in that porch swing, but now there were about a million empty beer bottles on the porch all around their feet, and right away, I could tell that something was wrong.
I heard Dad say, “Why? Why would God allow something like this? I can’t take this, Jim, I just can’t.”
I thought Dad was talking about Mom again, like he does when he drinks too much, but then Pastor Jim said, “Who says God is going to allow it, John? I don’t believe in destiny, not that kind. I don’t believe that he’s going to be changed by some…fate that he has no control over.” Pastor Jim put his arm around Dad’s shoulders and pulled him in tight. I knew it was bad when I saw Dad shaking and I realized that he was crying. My Dad, crying. I was really scared now.
Pastor Jim kept on hugging Dad and then, with his head pressed against Dad’s, he said, “He has people who love him, who’ll always watch over him. I’ll help any way I can, you know that. I’ll start doing some research, asking around. There’s a priest over in Blue Earth that might be able to help us.” That just seemed to make Dad cry more and he turned his head into Pastor Jim’s neck and shook hard. Pastor Jim put his hand on Dad’s head and kind of petted his hair the way Dad does to me and Dean when we’re sick or hurt. “You’re not alone, John. I’m always here to help. And I’ll pray for him, every day. We won’t let this happen. We won’t.”
Dad kept crying, and Pastor Jim kept hugging him, and I didn’t know what the hell they were talking about, but I felt so scared that I just wanted to go get back into bed with Dean where I knew I’d feel safe. I went to the bathroom first, and drank water by the handful from the faucet in there, because I knew Dad and Pastor Jim would have heard me getting water in the kitchen, and I didn’t want them to know I’d been listening.
I crawled back into bed with Dean, feeling wide awake, but I snuggled into Dean’s side and when he put his arm around me without even waking up, I started to relax and must have fallen asleep in no time, ‘cause next thing I knew it was morning.
At breakfast, everything seemed back to normal, except Dad’s eyes were kind of puffy and red and he smelled a little bit like he’d had about a million beers the night before. If Pastor Jim was being extra nice to Dad, Dean didn’t seem to notice, but I did.
Me and Dean were still eating, and Dad was drinking his, I don’t know, millionth cup of coffee or something, when someone knocked on the door. The wooden door was already open, letting in the morning breeze, and we could see, through the screen door, Tammy standing on the porch.
Pastor Jim invited her in and she got all bashful in front of Dad, blushing and stammering a little when she said, “I just…I got the pictures and I wanted to give you a copy.” She put two pictures on the table in front of Dean and then looked at him all hopeful like. “I was thinking maybe we could do something today…go swimming or something? We’re leaving first thing tomorrow.”
Dean smiled but he said, “I promised Sammy we’d go fishing again today, but maybe we’ll see you this afternoon?”
She looked disappointed, but she smiled a little and nodded and said, “Okay. See ya later,” and then she took off like a shot.
After she’d left, Dad reached over and took the pictures, studying them. There was the one with Dean standing next to Tammy looking stiff and a little embarrassed, and there was the one of Dean with his arm around me, grinning like an idiot. Dad picked up the one of me and Dean and touched it with one finger.
Pastor Jim leaned over Dad’s shoulder to look at the picture, too, and said, “Sammy’s lucky to have a brother that would turn down a swimming date with a pretty girl just to take him fishing.” Dad nodded, and Pastor Jim added, “Dean’s always watching out for Sammy.” Dad looked up at Pastor Jim, still nodding, and I started to feel like he was going to be okay when I saw the smile on his face.
For just a minute there, though, I felt scared again and for some reason I wondered if I was going to be okay. But then Dean stood up and said, “Come on, Sammy. The fish are waitin’ and there’s no one but us to catch ‘em.” When I started for the door, he threw his arm around my waist and picked me right up off the floor and tickled me, saying, “Unless you’d rather spend the day with the girls. You could have Paige,” and then he laughed like that was the funniest thing he’d ever said, and Dad and Pastor Jim laughed, too, and by the time we set off with our fishing gear, I wasn’t feeling afraid anymore.
Kinda hard to feel scared as long as Dean’s around.
Fandom: SPN
Rating: G; Gen
Medium: Mixed (Pencil, Prismacolor artist pencils, and Prismacolor artist markers for the background, and digital using Photoshop and Corel Painter for the figures)
Notes for artwork: Dean is supposed to be about 14, Sammy about 10.
Summary: Dean’s changing, Dad’s changing, and Sammy’s afraid of what’s going to change next. Just a little jealous!Sammy ficlet to go with the artwork; first person POV, Sammy.
Click to see bigger:
Summer of '93
Dean is so weird.
Not as weird as those two girls who follow him around all day, never more than ten yards behind, giggling and whispering. That’s just creepy.
What’s weird about Dean is that he seems to like it, the following and the giggling and the whispering. He keeps glancing back over his shoulder to make sure they’re still back there and when they see him looking they giggle again, and Dean grins and runs his hand through his hair and sort of…poses. It’s a little disgusting, and I don’t remember Dean doing anything like that the last time we were here.
Pastor Jim’s father has these cabins in Minnesota that he rents out during the summer and they’re really nice; nicer than the kinds of places we usually stay anyway. It’s a good thing that Dad and Pastor Jim are such good friends, because we wouldn’t be able to afford something like this normally. We used to come almost every summer, but then we missed a few years. Last time we were here, I was only seven, and all Dean cared about was going fishing, swimming, and trying to sneak one of Dad’s beers. This time all Dean cares about is talking to those goofy girls, walking around trying to look cool, and trying to sneak one of Dad’s beers. At least one thing hasn’t changed.
Dean’s not the only one acting weird. A couple of weeks ago, Dad got a phone call. He answered the phone in his room, closed the door, and stayed in there a long time. When he came out, he wouldn’t tell us who it was who’d called and he’s been acting strange ever since, really quiet, and he looks worried and sad all the time. Then, a few days ago he called Pastor Jim and after he’d hung up he said, “Pack up, boys, we’re leaving. Gonna spend a couple of weeks at Mr. Murphy’s place. How does that sound?”
Dad had smiled real big, and tried to sound happy, but something wasn’t quite right, and I could tell that Dean thought so, too, by the way he put his big, fake smile on and said, “Sounds great, Dad.” ‘Course, Dean really was happy about going to the cabin; we both were, but we were worried about Dad, too.
It took us a day and a half to get to Mr. Murphy’s property on Lake Vermilion. When we pulled in, Pastor Jim was already there, waiting for us, and I jumped out of the car so quick that Dad said, “Wait ‘til it stops rolling first, son.” Pastor Jim bent down and gave me a tight hug, then tried to hug Dean, but Dean stuck his hand out real fast. Pastor Jim laughed and said, “Too grown up for a hug these days,” and shook Dean’s hand, but then he turned to Dad and opened his arms and they hugged a long time, and Dad’s plenty grown up, so I don’t really know what Dean’s got against hugging.
And then, we’d barely gotten our stuff unloaded before they showed up. These two girls, twin sisters, staying with their family in the next cabin down towards the lake, came over to ask if we needed any help and it feels like they haven’t gone away yet.
The first day we were there, Dean was supposed to take me fishing, but we ended up going to pick blueberries instead because Tammy and Pammy (or Terri and Perri, or whatever the heck their names are) were going, and asked Dean to come with them in case there were snakes. Like Dean would know what to do with a snake?
The next day, Dean still didn’t take me fishing because Terri and Perri (whatever) said their Dad had rented a boat for the day and they were going water-skiing and asked Dean to come along. Dean looked a little uncomfortable about that, and finally just asked them, “Can my little brother come?” When Terri (or Tammy? Or Perri. Or Pammy?), without even taking her eyes off Dean long enough to look at me, said that it would be okay if I came, too, Dean perked right up. He put his arm around me and said, “Come on, Sammy. Let’s get changed into our swimsuits and get some towels.” I was glad he was bringing me along, but it still wasn’t the same as fishing.
We stayed out on the water almost the whole day and we could see Dad and Pastor Jim in Mr. Murphy’s little boat, tucked up in a shallow cove. They waved at us every time the boat we were on passed in front of them. They were fishing. I was still glad I was with Dean, though, because we’d never been water-skiing before and watching him smack into the water over and over and over was really funny.
When we got back to the cabin, we were sun-burnt and tired in that way that feels really good; the kind of tired you only get after spending a whole day having fun. I could have gone straight to bed, but there was a big plate of garlic bread on the table, and Pastor Jim had just finished frying the fish he and Dad caught, and Dad was making a salad, so me and Dean washed up and sat down to eat.
After Pastor Jim said grace, we dug into the food like we hadn’t eaten in a week. Dad asked us if we’d had fun that day and ‘course we said we did, and for a minute there Dad’s smile looked real. Dean started jabbering non-stop, talking about everything he’d learned. ‘And when the boat starts moving you gotta keep your knees together and push forward with both feet.’ Dad grinned and nodded and when Dean was finished, Dad turned to me and said, “You learn anything new today, Sammy?” and I said that yeah, I’d learned what Dean’s face looks like right before he wipes out and smashes into the water. That got a laugh so I figured I’d show ‘em so they could really appreciate it and I screwed my face up into that look of surprise, plus fear, plus ‘oh shit’ that I’d seen on Dean’s face about a hundred times that day. Dean whapped me across the head, but it was worth it for the big laugh it got out of Dad.
That night, when me and Dean were in bed, I could hardly keep my eyes open, but I did manage to say, “We’re going fishing tomorrow, right? You promised,” and Dean reached over and ruffled my hair.
“Yes, Sammy, yes. We’re going fishing tomorrow, okay? I promise.”
I snorted. “If Tammy doesn’t have somethin’ else for you to do.” Dean ignored that one, so I said, “Hey, Dean? Why do you let those girls follow you around like that? It’s really annoying.”
Dean laughed a little. “I don’t know, Sammy. It’s just kinda fun. I don’t know why, really.” He sounded really sleepy, like maybe he didn’t even know he was still talking when he said, “It’s like havin’ a couple of dogs in heat sniffin’ around and I’m the only stud in town.”
That made me laugh, but I could hear Dean already snoring a little so I don’t think he heard me when I said, “That’s gross, man.”
The next morning, after breakfast, we were finally, finally ready to go fishing. Pastor Jim had gotten some fishing rods ready for us and had tackle boxes loaded up, and he’d even put a little cooler out, already packed with sandwiches and sodas. And wouldn’t you know it, but the minute we stepped out the door, there they were. Tammy and Pammy. Tammy had a camera hanging around her neck.
“Hey Dean!” she said, all chirpy and annoying. “We’re going on a hike. Come with?”
I got tense really quick, but Dean said, “Nah, me and my brother are fishin’ today. Had it planned for days, right Sammy?” I nodded, happy, and for some reason Tammy’s disappointed face made it even better.
Suddenly Tammy’s face brightened up, though, and she said, “Hey Dean, let me take a picture of you.” Dean looked embarrassed and he kind of shook his head ‘no’, but she said, “Come on, please? Tomorrow’s our last day here and I want to have a picture to remember you by. We’re going into town this afternoon and I’m going to get my film developed. I can get a copy of the picture for you, too.”
I rolled my eyes. That had to be the stupidest thing she’d said all week. Why in the heck would Dean want a picture of himself? But Dean looked interested all the sudden and he said, “You’ll get me a copy?” and when she nodded, he put down his fishing rod and the tackle box and put his arm around my shoulders and said, “Come on, Sammy, let’s get a picture.”
Tammy looked weird and said, “Oh, I meant…my sister was going to take a picture of us, Dean.”
Dean said, “Oh. Well, we can do that next, can’t we?” Tammy nodded and looked happier, and even though I thought it was kind of stupid I agreed because Dean looked like this was something he really wanted to do. He bent down and put his arm around me and hugged me in tight and I had to smile a little when it hit me that I’m the only one Dean’ll still hug these days.
Tammy snapped the picture then took my place beside Dean and it made me happy to see that Dean didn’t put his arm around her for their picture like he’d done me. She didn’t seem to care, though, and her sister took the picture. After smiling and batting her eyelashes like a gnat had flown into her eye or something, and saying, “See you later,” she took off with her sister. Giggling and whispering.
Later, that night at supper, with my mouth full of fried fish that I had caught, thank you very much, I said, “Dean’s got a girlfriend.”
That got me a cuff to the head from Dean, but Dad grinned and Pastor Jim said, “Ah, which one, Tammy or Paige?” (Paige? Really??)
Dean wasn’t talking so I answered for him. “Tammy. I guess. Kinda hard to tell the difference.”
Pastor Jim laughed and then said, “You know, Dean, the Carters come here every summer. If John’ll bring you boys back next summer, I’m sure you’ll see Tammy and Paige again. They’re nice girls.”
“Huh,” I said. “They’re like a couple of dogs in heat sniffin’ around, and Dean’s the only stud in town.”
Dean kicked me under the table, Pastor Jim choked on his food, and Dad’s eyes got big and he said, “Sammy! Where’d you hear something like that?”
I knew better than to look at Dean, so I concentrated really hard on the mac ‘n cheese Pastor Jim had made to go with our fish, pushing it around on my plate and painstakingly threading a noodle onto each tine of my fork. When I had noodles covering all four prongs, I held up my fork and said, “Lookit that.” Not the best way I’d ever come up with to change the subject, but it mostly worked because Pastor Jim just grinned and shook his head a little and Dad, who was trying not to smile, I could tell, turned to Dean and only said, “If you’re going to be an influence on your brother, try to be a good one, please?”
I managed to make it through dinner without saying anything else to cause trouble. After dinner, me and Dean cleaned up the dishes and when we went to say ‘goodnight’ and head off for bed, Dad and Pastor Jim were sitting outside on the porch swing, drinking beer. Dad looked happier than he’d looked in a really long time, and I went to sleep wishing we could just live here all the time.
I wish I had stayed asleep that night. But I’d spent another whole day out in the sun, fishing, and I woke up a couple of hours later with my mouth all dry and feeling like I was gonna die if I didn’t get some water. Dean was snoring and I figured Dad and Pastor Jim were asleep, too, so I went, really quiet, into the kitchen. I had a glass in my hand and was headed to the sink to get my water when I heard talking and looked up to see, through the screen door, Dad and Pastor Jim still sitting in that porch swing, but now there were about a million empty beer bottles on the porch all around their feet, and right away, I could tell that something was wrong.
I heard Dad say, “Why? Why would God allow something like this? I can’t take this, Jim, I just can’t.”
I thought Dad was talking about Mom again, like he does when he drinks too much, but then Pastor Jim said, “Who says God is going to allow it, John? I don’t believe in destiny, not that kind. I don’t believe that he’s going to be changed by some…fate that he has no control over.” Pastor Jim put his arm around Dad’s shoulders and pulled him in tight. I knew it was bad when I saw Dad shaking and I realized that he was crying. My Dad, crying. I was really scared now.
Pastor Jim kept on hugging Dad and then, with his head pressed against Dad’s, he said, “He has people who love him, who’ll always watch over him. I’ll help any way I can, you know that. I’ll start doing some research, asking around. There’s a priest over in Blue Earth that might be able to help us.” That just seemed to make Dad cry more and he turned his head into Pastor Jim’s neck and shook hard. Pastor Jim put his hand on Dad’s head and kind of petted his hair the way Dad does to me and Dean when we’re sick or hurt. “You’re not alone, John. I’m always here to help. And I’ll pray for him, every day. We won’t let this happen. We won’t.”
Dad kept crying, and Pastor Jim kept hugging him, and I didn’t know what the hell they were talking about, but I felt so scared that I just wanted to go get back into bed with Dean where I knew I’d feel safe. I went to the bathroom first, and drank water by the handful from the faucet in there, because I knew Dad and Pastor Jim would have heard me getting water in the kitchen, and I didn’t want them to know I’d been listening.
I crawled back into bed with Dean, feeling wide awake, but I snuggled into Dean’s side and when he put his arm around me without even waking up, I started to relax and must have fallen asleep in no time, ‘cause next thing I knew it was morning.
At breakfast, everything seemed back to normal, except Dad’s eyes were kind of puffy and red and he smelled a little bit like he’d had about a million beers the night before. If Pastor Jim was being extra nice to Dad, Dean didn’t seem to notice, but I did.
Me and Dean were still eating, and Dad was drinking his, I don’t know, millionth cup of coffee or something, when someone knocked on the door. The wooden door was already open, letting in the morning breeze, and we could see, through the screen door, Tammy standing on the porch.
Pastor Jim invited her in and she got all bashful in front of Dad, blushing and stammering a little when she said, “I just…I got the pictures and I wanted to give you a copy.” She put two pictures on the table in front of Dean and then looked at him all hopeful like. “I was thinking maybe we could do something today…go swimming or something? We’re leaving first thing tomorrow.”
Dean smiled but he said, “I promised Sammy we’d go fishing again today, but maybe we’ll see you this afternoon?”
She looked disappointed, but she smiled a little and nodded and said, “Okay. See ya later,” and then she took off like a shot.
After she’d left, Dad reached over and took the pictures, studying them. There was the one with Dean standing next to Tammy looking stiff and a little embarrassed, and there was the one of Dean with his arm around me, grinning like an idiot. Dad picked up the one of me and Dean and touched it with one finger.
Pastor Jim leaned over Dad’s shoulder to look at the picture, too, and said, “Sammy’s lucky to have a brother that would turn down a swimming date with a pretty girl just to take him fishing.” Dad nodded, and Pastor Jim added, “Dean’s always watching out for Sammy.” Dad looked up at Pastor Jim, still nodding, and I started to feel like he was going to be okay when I saw the smile on his face.
For just a minute there, though, I felt scared again and for some reason I wondered if I was going to be okay. But then Dean stood up and said, “Come on, Sammy. The fish are waitin’ and there’s no one but us to catch ‘em.” When I started for the door, he threw his arm around my waist and picked me right up off the floor and tickled me, saying, “Unless you’d rather spend the day with the girls. You could have Paige,” and then he laughed like that was the funniest thing he’d ever said, and Dad and Pastor Jim laughed, too, and by the time we set off with our fishing gear, I wasn’t feeling afraid anymore.
Kinda hard to feel scared as long as Dean’s around.