Chapter 2
After school Oliver went straight back to his house, his mind was unwilling to recall what happened today. It’s true, every time he had a ‘vision’, he’ll be in an awfully bad mood. People saying him crazy, and some even pretending to understand him, but not that he felt that way with Sarah. He could have sensed that Sarah was sincere and really concerned. He looked for the spare key under the door mat, although he had his own inside his backpack. He jammed the key inside, forgetting which way needed to open. The key stuck fast, but it opened anyway.
As he suspected, the house was empty. Mum’s out shopping, Dad’s working and Toby might be at his friend’s house, playing. He tossed his backpack into the closet and checked the kitchen first as he normally did. In the kitchen, standing over the sink, Oliver poured himself a glass of water and tossed it back. He scrutinised his surroundings. It was quiet. He heard the sound of dripping water at the sink and the clock ticking at the living room.
The house looked quite dark today; maybe it’s because of the new curtain Mum put on. Nevertheless, he always liked the smell of the house, homely and welcoming. The aroma of the freshly grounded coffee that came from the kitchen always made him felt better. It was the only place Oliver felt safe. He shook his head, telling himself he’ll be just fine. Although he was wearing a simple t-shirt, the fabrics felt tight and it stretched his skin, threatening to suffocate him to death at his own house. He helped himself for the second glass, and his hands suddenly trembled, almost dropped it. The fluid swam uneasily inside him, intimidating to come back up. Setting the glass in the basin, he wiped his mouth with the back of his palm, before his eyes suddenly caught upon a yellow post-it-note on the fridge.
He took it and read. ‘Honey, there’s a couple of slices of blueberry cheese cake in the fridge, but remember to spare some for Toby. Love, mum.’ Oliver pasted the note back on the fridge as he opened it, his eyes trailing every section for the cake.
He knew it was his favourite, but he just wasn’t in the mood to eat right now. It was only midday, but the heat was immense, and the sun just couldn’t let go of Oliver even when he was at his own house. It blazed strongly through the interior, turning the house like a giant oven. A pot of herbs mum had on the workplace seemed to wilt, imploring for a douse of water. Oliver pushed the pot over to the shade. He just wanted to have a cold, nice shower and sleep until dinner, which he did.
At approximately 6.30 PM he was awakened by a rough shake. He opened his eyes to see Toby was already sitting on him, pointing menacingly with his water gun. ‘Dinner, Ollie.’ He whispered. His tone was like the cool guy in the movie who said two words before the big explosion happened, or before he killed the bad guy.
‘Don’t.’ Oliver asserted tersely, but it was too late. The squirt got him in his face before he could draw another breath, almost stifling him. ‘TOBY!!!’ He yelled as he forced himself to sit, trying to get the water out from him nose. He wiped his face with his shirt, before he hauled himself out of the bed.
‘Stupid kid…’ He headed bathroom, properly washed his face and changed his wet shirt before he went downstairs. As he arrived at the kitchen table, he gave his brother a knock on his head as he passed Toby’s back. Toby was there, swinging his legs under the kitchen table and playing with the plastic spoon, and he was sitting innocently, waiting for the dinner to start. It didn’t hard, but it was sure enough to make his eyes water. Oliver walked around the table and chose a seat which was opposite to his little brother. Toby would glance at his brother, giving him a pathetic, clueless look that said; ‘I didn’t mean to squirt water at you…’ His sapphire eyes glittered, before Oliver rolled his eyes and sent him back a look that said; ‘yeah yeah…’
Few moments later Mrs. Clay appeared from the kitchen with a basket of garlic breads, and the smell made Toby thrilled, his mouth water. Placing the freshly baked bread in front of her eldest son, she gave him a head-to-toe, and then smiled ever so lightly. ‘You look sick honey, are you all right?’ She placed the back of her palm onto Oliver’s forehead as she stood beside him. When she wasn’t looking, Toby snatched a piece of the bread. Mrs. Clay was still in her apron, which was covered with sweet cinnamon smell and other spices.
‘No mum, I’m okay.’ Oliver simply replied, before he took his mother’s hand, guiding her to seat. She took off her apron and slung it over her chair. ‘Mommy, where’s dad?’ Suddenly the four year old boy asked with his mouth full, reminding Oliver as well. ‘Yeah, shouldn’t we wait for him?’ He added.
Mrs. Clay gave both of her sons a half smile. She reached Toby’s head before she softly ruffled his hair.
‘Dad has work to do, he won’t be home until 9.’ Oliver slightly nodded, as he chewed a mouthful of garlic bread. Then he poured three glasses of lemonade and passed to his mum and Toby. Tomorrow will be the first day of summer, and he remembered his promise with Tyler and Sarah about meeting them at the beach. He cut his roasted chicken into a bite-sized piece, before he slowly put it into his mouth, trying to savour all the flavours in it. ‘Delicious!’ He uttered to mum who was carefully cutting Toby’s chicken. She turned to her son and cast him a thankful smile.
Toby kept looking at mum while she cut his chicken, his brown hair that shined under the light and his sapphire eyes that glittered amazingly matched his angelic, naïve look. Since he came to this family four years ago, Mr. and Mrs. Clay had shifted their attention from Oliver to Toby, which made him jealous. But just like his parents, he loves his brother. From Oliver’s place he saw Toby and his mum shared a lot of things in common. The lovely smile, the hair, the eye-colour. He on the other hand had black hair, and brown eyes, just like his father.
‘Hey mum.’ Oliver said, as he paused. ‘Can I go to the beach tomorrow? I made a promise with Tyler and Sarah.’
‘Cool! Can I go?’ Suddenly Toby interrupted, his eyes never left Oliver.
