I come from kind of a messed up family. Mom wasn’t great when dad wasn’t around and Dad was trucker so “wasn’t around” was often. Was a decent guy when he was, at least as far as I remember. Me and my little sister Carla were basically raised ourselves. When I was ten, my dad died while driving. Massive heart attack. Mom went from “wasn’t great” to “absolute nightmare.” She’s hit you without much provocation and she was itching to find a reason to throw us out. She said it we our fault her life was shit. Blamed us for how much our dad works and him dying on the road. Who say that to kids?
I say this just to set up the fact that neither me, nor Carla have many warm and fuzzies when it comes to the idea of starting a family. I walked into a doctors office and got a vasectomy when I was 18. Carla, on the other hand, couldn’t get anyone to do it. Told he she was too young and she might change her mind. She was hot about that. Seriously hot. So she just got on birth control and was crazy picky about her partners. I honestly don’t blame her. She’s always told me she was terrified she would turn into our mom. I don’t think she would, but I sure a shit share the fear.
So when she started dating this new guy and she seemed genuinely happy and over the top about him, I felt strange about it. I couldn’t quite nail it down, but he felt a little too perfect. He had this amazing family, but was still similar to us. His dad died when he was a kid, but his mom hadn’t snapped. His extended family were a constant in his life and he was raised a little by all of them without it seeming like his mom was just foisting him off on them. It was the exact kind of family you see in TV shows where the character is either insufferably naive and nice or a member of a cult.
This guy is named Ricard. Not Richard, Ricard. Not Ricardo. Ricard. Goes by that too. Not Rick, or anything else. Ricard. Ricard Wheeler. I didn’t dislike the guy, I just didn’t feel right about him. Maybe it was projection. Maybe it was intuition. Even now, I’m not sure. I just feel it in my gut that something is wrong with the guy. I put up with him though. Tried to get close, make friends. I mean, he was making my baby sis happy and I’m not that flavor of asshole. He was polite and friendly, but he wasn’t exactly eager to make friends outside Carla.
All the off feelings hit way harder when Carla woke me up with a freaked out phone call at 2 am. She’d made calls like this in the past, usually when one of her carefully picked dudes popped a red flag and she wanted a second opinion before ditching the jerk, so I half expected Ricard had raised his voice or something. It didn’t take much with her.
“What did he do, ‘La?” I answered. I was groggy, so the faster we got to the point, the faster I could either put on pants or go back to sleep.
“I’m pregnant.” She said, an edge of panic in her voice.
“What the fuck, dude.” I groaned. “How?”
“The fuck do you mean ‘how,’ Carson?”
“The fuck you mean ‘the fuck you mean,’ ‘La?”
She was silent for a minute and it worried me a little.
“Hold up, is this an you-don’t-wanna-get-roasted silence or an I-need-my-gun silence?” I asked.
“I don’t wanna get roasted,” she said, talking to me like she was eight again.
“You stupid,” I said and laughed out that little bit of stress. “Is it Ricky’s?”
“Ricard.” She corrected me absently. “And I’m not that flavor of asshole,” She muttered. “Of course it is.”
“Does he know?”
“Not yet.”
“You gonna tell him?”
“I dunno.” She sighed. “If he was any other guy, this wouldn’t even be a thought. But…” She trailed off.
“Carla, are you serious?” I really didn’t know how to feel. My knee jerk reaction was to try and talk her out of it, but at the same time, I didn’t really believe in that. What was I gonna say? That our mom was shit, she would be too? I’m scared of being a shit dad. Carla was scared of being a shit mom, but for me to talk her out of a kid, I would have to think she would be a shit mom and I just didn’t have that in me.
“I don’t know!” She said again. “I just don’t know.”
We just sat silently on the phone for a while. I really didn’t know what to say, but I love my baby sis. Whatever she chose or did, I had her back, but I couldn’t choose for her. I didn’t even know how to help her decide. “You’ve got some time, right?” I asked, finally.
“Yeah,” she said.
“Give it a week and flip a coin,” I said. “You’ll know what you want before it lands.”
“Okay,” She said, a little energy back in her voice. “I will. Sorry I work you up.”
“Get the fuck outta here with that shit,” I said with mock aggravation. “This bitch wakes me up with heavy news and then apologizes to me like I’m not the best brother on earth. How dare you? No. No. I’m serious. How dare you?”
“All right, asshole,” She laughed. “Go back to sleep. I love you.”
“I love you, too, ‘La,” And I went back to sleep.
So a week goes by and she calls me again. She’s not fully committed but she’s decided to tell Ricard, but she wants me there just in case. Some dudes really show their asses when it comes to getting their girl pregnant and this was uncharted territory so Big Bro to the rescue. Well, on standby more like.
I’m not gonna lie, I don’t know how I expected it to go, but it went well. Strangly well. Ricard didn’t react at first. He asked her what she was feeling about the situation. If she knew what she wanted. If she wanted him involved. It was poker. He was being really careful about how he asked things and said things without showing us his actual hand. Eventually he said that whatever she chose, he would understand but he would be happy if she kept it and if she didn’t want it, he family would take the kid no questions asked.
That kinda bugged me a little. He didn’t say he would take the kid. He said his family would. Based off how he said he was raised, it seems reasonable, but again, it just felt off. Sitcom? Or Cult?
I’m sure some of you think I’m being paranoid by now. Maybe not. I just don’t know enough about the guy. He works for the town morgue. He has a nice apartment, but it’s spartan. His car is old but expertly maintained. His clothes are simple and plain. No name brands, but it all looks tailored. What does a man, who has a decent job that’s gotta pay well do with his money if it’s not in his stuff? Carla has never seen him pressed about money or bills or anything. He’s even offered to help her out. He always pays for dates. He’s a perfect gentleman with no discernible vices and a potential abundance of wealth he just sits on? This shit is suspect.
The scales finally started to tip when his first “cousin” arrived. She looked fresh out of high school in the country. She has one of those soft country girl builds where the muscles she appeared when she moved the right way, so you knew how soft she wasn’t. She was pretty enough, but she looked nothing, and I mean, nothing like Ricard. Ricard was dirty blond, tall, fair skinned and blue eyed. Yeah, yeah, I know. His cousin was native american looking. Kinda bronze-y skin. Straight black hair. Angular. And they didn’t act like they really knew each other while still seeming really familiar. It was like they’d been in the same environment but didn’t really interact. Though, that could be explained by their age gap. Ricard is around twenty four or five, but this girl was nineteen tops.
Lilianna, the cousin, who actually just went by Lily, was just the same kind of sweet as Ricard but she was much more sheltered. She was just excited by everything she was seeing. She clung to Ricard like a barnacle which, I would think, should have upset Carla at least a little, but it didn’t. As a matter of fact, it only took a week for Carla to slip and call the girl “Cousin.” Just like Ricard did. And just like Ricard, she wasn’t overly interested in anyone that wasn’t my sister. Meaning me.
My sister went from on the fence about being pregnant to being fully on board with being a mom by the time Lily had been here for a couple weeks. Where once, I was my sister’s main confidant, now was Lily. More and more, that girl was edging me out. Ricard was too. I brought it up, but Carla said I’m just being paranoid. She appreciates my worry. She knows her big brother won’t let anything bad happen, but maybe this is just her healing in a way she and I haven’t yet. She promised she would make some time for me since we hadn’t seen much of each other so I didn’t feel abandoned. I swear to god, she’s mocking me, but it felt off. Like something in her wasn’t right.
Everything up till now has, reasonable explanations. It could go either way, even the odd cousin Lily just showing up and stealing my “confidant” hat. But this last incident cemented it to me that something is off with Ricky boy.
Yesterday, Carla invites me to the park. We have this big park in town with a duck pond, a dog run, all kinds of shit for the people. This place is really relaxing and Me and Carla used to come here as kids when Mom was really in a mood. Ricard and Lily are there and we are supposed to be having a picnic. Clear sky. Middle of the day. Not under trees. I am sober. I want it clear that what I watched happen, did indeed happen.
The girls are setting things up and Ricard and I are straight up just talking about the ducks because this man will only engage me in the most impersonal, yet polite ways when this thunderous bark rings out.
This giant horse of a dog is gunning for us and the food the girls have started to lay out. Carla isn’t scared of dogs, but this thing was big. It was something clearly bred to fight wolves or bear or something, because there is no way they made these just to warm laps, you know? My sister freezes and just raises her arms.
My big brother instincts kick in and I start to move, but Ricard is faster. Way faster. I’ve take two steps and he is already in front of Carla and Lily by a few paces, like an olympic sprinter or something. His arm is back, he swings it down and there is this heavy, meaty, crunch thump and the dog just hits the ground. No yelp of pain. Nothing. It’s just still.
Lily runs over to it, examines it and then turn to look at Ricard with a mix of sadness and anger in her eyes. “You killed it.” She said.
“Shit.” Ricard said as he thumbed his knuckles. “Must have hit it wrong.”
I don’t know how you insta-kill a dog that big with one punch by hitting it wrong.
“What did you do to my dog?” I look up and the owner is charging over to us. He’s a fairly big man himself and his head looks like it’s gonna pop like a ripe zit. “Do you understand how much that fucking dog was worth?”
“We’re sorry, sir,” Lily said, stepping in the man’s path with her hands up. “My cousin was just trying to protect us and-”
“I’m not talking to you,” the man moved to shove Lily out of the way with a hand on her shoulder.
“Do not touch me,” Lily hissed and grabbed the inside of the dudes wrist and twists it and dude is on his knees in an instant. “This poor creature lost it’s life because of your mishandling, and my cousin is the problem?”
“Lily,” Ricard said as he put a hand on her back. “I made a mistake. No need to make more.”
Lily lets the man go and walks over to Carla and starts comforting her. Ricard give the man his info and promises to pay for the cremation or whatnot for the dog. I’m just rooted in place watching this go down. Those two still wanted to sit and eat after that. They just moved on, like Ricard didn’t just one tap a dire wolf and Lily didn’t kung fu queen a man twice her size. So you know what I did? I sat there and fucking ate.
I’m not paranoid, right? Nothing happening here is normal, right? This isn’t just me being jealous that my sister found some freak, one off, family of love and light and they are helping her to make different choices. Happy choices I just don’t know how to make?
And what if I am right? What is something not right is happening? What could I even do about it? How would I convince my sister that these people aren’t trust worthy? What do I do?