5. Ransom
5
RANSOM
" R emind me again why we couldn't just hit up the high-rise?" I grumble, but there's no real bite to it. Already it's pretty damn obvious what the city is lacking. The wide roads, decorated houses, and hordes of people here in suburbia clearly have this whole Halloween thing figured out.
We stayed in the city last year. I arranged for all the apartments on three floors to have candy, and Mia was happy enough. But this year, everyone wanted something different. Something more.
They wanted the big Halloween. The kind we saw on TV, but most of us never experienced. Yeah, we had Halloween in my old neighborhood. My mom tried to make us costumes, but she was not crafty, and between her full-time job and taking care of us, she didn't really have the time. So we'd go out with a sheet over our heads, or a cowboy hat, and fit right in with all the other kids whose parents worked too fucking long and hard to have time for costumes.
Cara leans forward from the passenger seat, her excitement palpable. "Trust me, Ransom. You've never seen Halloween like this."
"Full-size candy bars," Bree chimes in from the back. "And cans of soda. It's a kid's dream come true."
"You do know we can afford to buy as much candy and soda as we want?"
Bree just rolls her eyes at me, like my comment is too stupid to respond to, which makes me laugh. When teenagers do that shit, it's infuriating. When the women do it?
Funny.
As we turn onto another street, it's like Halloween puked all over the neighborhood. Houses decked out in orange lights, inflatable ghosts bobbing in the breeze, and jack-o'-lanterns grinning from every porch.
The streets are alive with families and kids in costumes. Princesses and superheroes dart between houses, plastic pumpkins swinging from their hands. Parents trail behind, some in costumes of their own, others holding big insulated mugs that I'd bet have very grown-up drinks in them.
I slow the van, taking it all in. There's something about these neat rows of houses, each with its own little patch of lawn, that makes me wonder about the lives inside. Do they gather around dinner tables every night? Do the kids play catch in the backyard on weekends? What would my life have been like if I'd grown up someplace like this? Would anything have been different?
A group of teenagers shuffles by, hopping like little kids, one of them wearing a tire around his chest. Not a fake one. Nope, an actual tire. Interesting costume.
A toddler screams past the teens, dressed as a dinosaur, howling with laughter. His dad is slow-walking behind him, pretending he's actually trying to catch him. That kid is going to sleep great tonight.
Or maybe not. Depends on how much candy he eats.
I never thought about shit like that until Mia came along. Teen boys eat so much shit I couldn't tell you if their attitudes were sugar-related or just hormonal. But the shit food is cheap, and for a long time, that's all I could afford.
"See?" Cara says, nudging my arm. "Told you it'd be worth the drive."
I nod, still processing the scene. "Yeah. This is a lot more than I expected."
I park the van, and we all pile out onto the sidewalk. The rest of our crew follows suit, their cars lining up behind mine. We gather in a big group on the sidewalk, forcing everyone to walk up on the grass to get around us.
People are fucking staring. Though I guess I can't blame them.
Mia's bouncing up and down, her little yellow minion costume practically glowing in the twilight. "Let's go, let's go!" she chants, tugging on my hand.
I look around at my brothers, all decked out in matching minion outfits. We look ridiculous. Of course, everyone's staring. But if Mia wants us in matching costumes, we wear the fucking costumes. Colton and John tower over the rest of us, their costumes stretched to the limit. Finding ones that fit them was a fucking nightmare. In the end, I paid a costume designer out of LA a ton of money to custom-make all of ours.
They’re fucking epic.
"Alright, boys," I call out. "Let's line up. You know the drill."
We form a line, shuffling into the order we drew last night. Trick-or-treaters and their parents give us a wide berth, staring and whispering. I catch snippets of their conversations.
"Are those all minions?"
"Look at the size of that one!"
"Is this some kind of flash mob?"
That last one sends Maya and Janey into a fit of giggles.
Mia leads the charge, practically skipping to the first house. I'm right behind her, with the rest of the guys crowding close, not wanting to miss any of it.
The front step is small, so the rest of the guys make a circle at the base of the stairs. "Go ahead, honey, ring the bell," I tell her. Mia presses the button with enthusiasm. The woman who answers the door takes a step back, her eyes widening as she takes in the sight of us. Her hand flies to her chest, and for a second, I'm afraid she's going to call the cops, but then she bursts out laughing.
"Well, aren't you the cutest little minion!" she says to Mia, who beams up at her.
"Tick or teat!" Mia chirps, holding out her pumpkin basket.
Fuck, that's adorable.
The woman drops a handful of candy into Mia's basket, then looks up at the rest of us. "And look at all your... helpers! You boys sure know how to commit to a theme."
"Thank you," we answer politely. Colton even does this weird little bow.
As we turn to leave, the woman calls out to her husband. "Harold, you've got to see this!"
We make our way down the street, hitting house after house. At each stop, Mia's excitement grows, and so does the amusement of the homeowners. Some of them even ask to take pictures with us, like we're attractions at Disneyland, then pay us in treats of our own. I'm not hating it. My pockets are filled with candy bars, and suddenly I'm all in on Halloween. Free candy tastes a fuck of a lot better than the shit you buy yourself. Who knew?
"Uncle John, it's your turn!" Mia calls out, and I watch as John lumbers up to the next house with Mia. Well, he doesn't really lumber, but he's still not thrilled about the fucking costume, so he's dragging his feet a little.
The door opens, and a kid dressed as a superhero answers. His jaw drops when he sees John. "Whoa! You're the biggest minion ever!"
John's face breaks into a rare smile. "Thanks, kid. This is my niece, Mia. She picked out my costume."
Mia nods proudly. "I did! He's the bestest, right?"
The kid's mom appears behind him, laughing as she takes in the scene. "He certainly is. Here, have some extra candy for bringing the best minions to the neighborhood."
John does a little wiggle and I wish I had my camera. He’ll deny he ever happy wiggled, and I wish I had proof to show him.
On a loop.
Over and over.
Projected on the two story wall of the apartment.
At every family gathering for the next year.
As we continue our rounds, I can't believe how easily Mia has us all wrapped around her little finger. She's got a bunch of grown men who've seen some serious shit in their lives, dressed up like cartoon characters and mostly loving every minute of it.
Cara sidles up to me, linking her arm through mine. "You know, for a bunch of tough guys, you all make pretty adorable minions."
I chuckle, watching as Declan helps Mia up some steep steps. "Yeah, well, what can I say? When Mia asks for something, we deliver."
"That's because you're all softies at heart," Bree chimes in, grinning at us.
"Only for her. And for you guys," I say. It's true, the women have made us softer in a way I never expected. Becca smirks at me, and I give her a glare. "But not you. You're a pain in my ass." As expected, her smile gets bigger. The woman is completely unfazed by my attitude. At first, I was tough on her because I was protective. Kade has been through too much shit with women, so I didn’t trust his judgment, and by extension, her. But once I got to know her and saw how well she loves him, giving her shit just became entertainment for both of us.
"Oh hell no!"
We all glance up, finding Colton frozen on the sidewalk as Mia tries to tug him up the sidewalk. "Come on, Daddy. It's just make-believe."
He laughs, but there's a clear edge of hysteria in it. I’ve heard that tone from him before. "I know. I think I'll just wait here though. I think Jonas might want to go up with you this time. He's been begging for an extra turn."
Jonas, of course, doesn't disappoint. "No, I haven’t," he says, studying the lawn and the admittedly freaky display of a rat swarm eating a zombie. The rats don't look that real, but combined with the spooky music interspersed with screams, it's damn effective.
But Colton's not bothered by the effects. Nah, his phobia has fully taken over. I guess, logically, getting trapped in a sleeping bag with a mouse when you're a kid could be terrifying. But he's coming up on forty soon. You'd think he'd have this shit worked out.
"It is time to face your fears." Jonas looks over at John and gives him a nod. Like they fucking planned it, John grabs Colton from behind and perp-walks him toward the scene. Colton, clearly not ready to face his fucking fears, shrieks and sweeps John's leg. They end up on the grass, wrestling. Two six-and-a-half-foot-tall Minions cursing and rolling. Not their finest moment, but fuck, I'd pay money to see a show like this, and here it is, free, like the best gift ever.
"Oh dear," Janey says, muffling her laughter behind her hand. "Should we break them up?"
"Are you asking me to get down there and try and get between them? Do you think that's going to work? 'Cause I can tell you from personal experience, that's a good way to end up missing a tooth."
Janey gapes up at me, and I grin, tapping my right incisor. "Don't worry. They fixed me up. But I'm not really up for round two."
"Maybe they'll just wind down?" Abby says through a mouthful of candy. Damn woman keeps picking our pockets for treats. She's dressed as a… I don't really know. A witch with a disco ball on the top of her hat. I guess that's the point of Halloween, isn't it? To let your freak flag fly.
"Possible, or more likely Colton is?—"
John rolls Colton, who lands in the middle of a rat army. The plastic rats bounce with the impact, making them seem like they're coming alive. And Colton, still screaming, does some sort of cartwheel and gets the hell out of there, running full tilt down the sidewalk, forcing any child in his way to dart to the side.
His big yellow minion head wobbles side to side as he goes.
None of us hold it together. I don't even try. I just let the laughter roll through me, touching every nerve and fiber.
God, I love my family.
Evie, Mia's mommy, steps forward and takes her hand. "I think Daddy needs a minute. Why don't you and I knock on the door?" Mia grins up at her, tugs her to the rats, and puts one in her bucket, then heads for the front door. Evie's leaning down, obviously trying to explain to her that she can't take people's stuff, even though I know, deep in her heart, Evie wants to see what Mia would do with that thing at home.
She loves Colton, but she's not above scaring the shit out of him.
They get to the door and ring the bell, and when the owner opens the door, Mia yanks the rat out of her bucket and proceeds to wave it around as she talks to him.
"She's coming home with that rat," Abby mutters.
"It's going in his bed," John says, wrapping his arms around her. They seem like such an odd couple. Abby's always been a little bit sunshine, and John's the sky just before a storm, all dark and grumbly.
Only around her, he's not so dark.
And around him, she shines even brighter.
"We're assholes," I mutter because, yeah, that rat is ending up in his bed, one way or another.
John chuckles darkly, and when Mia bounces down the steps, swinging the rat, we all move in a pack toward the next house. I hang a little further to the back since it's not my turn for a while. Nick and Maverick fall in beside me, and I brace myself for them to ask me about Blair again.
"This place is fucking weird," Nick mutters, looking around. "There's no fireworks. No people out barbecuing."
"Fireworks?" Mav asks, looking intrigued. I am too. We could easily set off some fireworks from the roof. I'm sure there are rules and permits to get, but that kind of thing hasn't ever really been a problem. With the kind of money we have, we can pay off anyone we need to.
"Yeah. It was a little fucked up, honestly. Kids would light them and chase each other with them. My Abuela wouldn't let me play with them, which looking back, seems like the responsible choice. But everyone would hang out in their front yards and cook, so we'd dress up, and there would be candy, but mostly we just ate our way through the block and had to roll ourselves home." He laughs and shakes his head. "She'd call all the kids little Gorditos ."
"That sounds pretty great."
"It was. It's all so different now. I drove through there a few months ago. The whole neighborhood has changed. When we lived there, it was the kind of place hardworking families lived. It was a community. It isn't anymore." He smiles and waves at Mia as she dances up the steps with Declan. "Bree says the town she grew up in was a lot like that. All the neighbors looked out for each other. It sounds kind of nice."
Maverick hums and glances at me. "Was it like that when you lived in that town, Badger Falls? You did live there, right? I mean, I'm just guessing since you said Blair is your foster sister, and she seems like she's pretty damn rooted there, but maybe I'm jumping?—"
"I lived there," I say, stopping his babbling. "And yeah, when I was there, it was a lot like that. Everyone in everyone else's business, neighbors taking care of each other, and lots of reasons to get together and eat."
Maverick looks a little dreamy. "That would be really nice. To know everyone."
"Maybe," I say with a snort, "but it's also a pain in the fucking ass when you're a teenager. You can't go anywhere without someone reporting back to your parents on what you did. I couldn't get away with shit."
"Really? That actually sounds kind of…nice."
On the surface, living in a place with no privacy sounds awful, but some of the guys had parents that honestly didn't give a shit where they were. And a lot of our foster parents were worse. There were good ones, yeah, but it's no coincidence that most of the guys had crappy ones and all ended up in that group home. "It was," I admit grudgingly, "it was a pretty great place."
"How long were you there?"
"Three years. From twelve to fifteen."
Mav whistles. "Fuck. That's a long time. I think nine months in the same foster home was my record."
I didn't make it that long in any other place. But Robert-fucking-McKenna was a stubborn and infinitely patient man. No matter what I tried, I couldn't get him to quit on me. "Yeah. It was too long. And it wasn't long enough."
Mia waves her arms at me, and I head for her, happy to have my turn and even happier to leave that conversation behind. I don't want to think about that town and the people I had to leave behind.
It hurts too fucking much. And the lie that I keep telling myself—that I'm better off having left—is getting harder and harder to believe.