Henry Last October
Henry
Last October
“The world was to me a secret which I desired to divine. Curiosity, earnest research to learn the hidden laws of nature, gladness akin to rapture, as they were unfolded to me, are among the earliest sensations I can remember.”
—Frankenstein by Mary Shelley
“Didn’t Bram say he’d be right back?” Adam huffed from beneath the hood of Mariana’s car.
“Uh, yeah,” Henry said absentmindedly, eyes on his phone screen. Hayden had texted him a question about their science homework. “Want me to ask him?”
“It’s not like he’d be any help. But it is his girlfriend’s car.”
“That it is. I’ll text him.”
“No, it’s—whatever. We don’t need him.”
“Okay,” Henry said good-naturedly, his mind still half on asking Hayden if she needed a ride to tonight’s game. “So we’re all good then?”
“Oh yeah. We’re just fantastic, covered in sweat and grease, while he’s lounging around with his girlfriend.”
“Then,” Henry said, squinting at his brother through his frames, “we’re not good?”
“No, we’re not good, Henry!” Adam barked at the same time something in the engine popped and hissed, sending a gust of steam into his face.
He backed away, growling, and threw the wrench across the garage. It slammed against the far wall, knocking some tools off their pegs.
Henry rushed to retrieve the wrench, shoving his brother aside to contain the damage to the engine. “I thought the issue was the brakes,” he muttered, twisting the radiator cap back on. The steam had fogged his lenses, which he removed and cleaned on his shirt.
“We still don’t know what the problem is,” Adam said, waving a hand. “Maybe we should tell Mariana she has to wait until Dad comes back. This is out of our depth.”
“No, it’s not.” Maybe it was out of Adam’s depth, but this car wasn’t going to outsmart Henry.
He hadn’t really even tried to solve the issue yet.
“And you really think Dad could do better than us?” Mr. Abbott took care of the books.
He was, supposedly, away on business, trying to expand the auto shop into a chain.
But the man hadn’t stepped foot inside the garage in months.
“You go up to the house,” Henry said, putting his glasses back on.
“Finish your homework. Do that pregame meditative mumbo jumbo you jocks love so much.”
“I don’t do that,” Adam said defiantly. “And you’re on the team too, you know.”
“Yeah, I know.” Henry had been on the football team since freshman year, but he’d never really felt like one of them.
Even on nights where he ended up with the highest yards per carry, he got the sense he’d only been placed on the field because of Adam.
You’re Adam Abbott’s brother? Oh, sure, we’ll throw you a bone. “I’ll handle the car.”
“Whatever,” Adam said, clomping over to the door. He grabbed his backpack off the chair and, hefting it on, yanked on the straps like it might try to abscond from him.
“I think you meant to say thank you, and you are welcome.” Henry pantomimed tipping an imaginary hat, which only made Adam stomp his feet louder.
Henry turned to face down his opponent, wondering how many additional problems his brother had caused in his impatience.
Henry knew better than to get into it with Adam.
And sure, Bram should’ve been back by now, but Henry didn’t want to be the reason Bram was in a bad mood at the game tonight.
If Bram’s tendency was to get aggressive or hotheaded the way Adam did, anger improving his performance on the field, it might be worth interrupting his time with Mariana.
But Bram always got broody and withdrawn.
Anyway, Henry didn’t mind the solitude.
In fact, while he was the only person around, he thought he might even be able to work on his project, the thing that kept him awake for hours every night.
The thing that had become a bit of an obsession.
It was a secret, partly because he wanted it to be a surprise.
And partly because he wasn’t sure he would actually succeed.
Henry knew he should stay and work on the car like he’d promised. The car needed fixing if Mariana was going to drive it out of there in a couple of hours. And though he was much faster than his brothers, he still needed time for his own homework before the game.
But it felt like he was being lured to the back of the shop, to the cardboard box where he’d hidden his experiment.
Lifting the box, Henry moved to the door, poking his head out to check that the coast was clear. Then, just to ensure that no one would stumble upon him, he ducked onto the dirt path that led to the garden shed. There he could tinker on his project in secret.