Chapter 4

The next morning, Dad placed several college brochures on the dining table.

South City Community College.

South City Business College.

South City Institute of Technology.

"Staying local is the safest option," he said. "Don't even think about schools far away. There won't be anyone to bail you out."

Mom was packing Carter's schoolbag and casually chimed in, "You've had a hard life since you were little, and you're good with your hands. You can help your dad at the shop while you're studying. It'll be a good way to learn a trade."

Carter looked up. "Will Scott still sleep in the stockroom when he goes to college?"

Mom immediately replied, "Scott will be living on campus when he's in college."

Dad looked at me. "Listen to us when it comes to choosing a college. You haven't seen much of the world. You don't know how things work out there."

"What if my scores are good enough?"

He frowned. "Even if they're good, you need to be realistic. A man's future depends on his skills, not the grades on a piece of paper."

Mom added, "Don't argue with your father. We're your parents. Why would we want to hurt you?"

I said nothing more.

Around noon, they took Carter to his swimming lesson.

Mom asked me to move several boxes from the study into the storage room. They were heavy.

On my second trip, I accidentally knocked open a drawer. The first thing I saw was a property deed. The owners listed were Harrison Hayes and Carter Hayes.

Underneath it was a purchase agreement for an apartment on Harborview Drive.

Buyer: Carter Hayes, signed by his legal guardian.

Below that was an education savings insurance policy. With an annual premium of $4,000, the beneficiary was, once again, Carter Hayes.

A sticky note was tucked inside. It was in Dad's handwriting:

"Save $100,000 for Carter's overseas education fund before he turns eighteen. Do not touch this money."

I kept looking.

At the very bottom was a transfer agreement for the family's homestead land.

Transferor: Edward Hayes.

Transferee: The Foster family from the same town.

The date was from the year I turned five.

That was also the year Grandpa moved out of the old family home and into the little side room behind the village committee building.

Dad had always said he'd built his business from nothing. Only now did I learn that his first bit of capital had come from Grandpa's house.

That night, I slept on the sofa.

My parents were talking on the balcony.

"His grades probably aren't anything special," Dad said. "We'll have him attend a local vocational college in South City. He can help with inventory and hauling goods at the shop during the day, then sleep in the stockroom at night. We don't have room for him to stay here long-term."

"Do you think he'll feel it's unfair?" Mom asked.

Dad scoffed. "I'm his father. So what if he has to make a few sacrifices? The eldest son should shoulder the responsibility."

Mom said, "Carter's private middle school tuition will be ten to twelve thousand a year..."

Dad interrupted her, "Once Scott graduates and gets a job, he'll contribute some of his salary every month. Brothers are supposed to help each other. Supporting his younger brother is only right."

"What about the shop?"

"The shop will obviously go to Carter. Our customers are all here in South City, and Carter has grown up here with us. Scott can make his own way. A man has to stand on his own two feet."

After a moment, Dad added, "He's our biological son. He's not going to cut us off for real. Even if he feels wronged, he'll come around in a few days. He's only got one set of parents and one family."

I lay there with my eyes open. At that moment, I no longer wanted to prove anything to them.

At three in the morning, I went to a twenty-four-hour print shop on the corner. I opened the college application system.

My first choice was Northbridge University.

My second was Westlake University.

My third was Great Lakes Institute of Technology.

Every school after that was out of state.

Not a single one was in South City.

I changed the mailing address for my admission letter to the office of Mr. Jason Brooks, a teacher at my county high school.

I also changed my emergency contacts to Grandpa and Mr. Brooks. I canceled my old phone number, only giving my new number to two of them.

Before dawn, I returned to the stockroom behind the shop and straightened the folding bed.

I washed the green guest slippers, then I placed the twenty dollars Mom had given me inside a cardboard box. I put the college brochures from South City in there too.

Then I tore off a piece of paper and wrote a few lines.

After that, I slung my backpack over my shoulders and left.

At eight that morning, Mom was still in the kitchen warming milk for Carter. She said to Dad, "Do you think he heard what we said last night?"

Dad put the college brochures back into their folder, sounding utterly confident. "Even if he did, so what? Sooner or later, he'll understand that everything we arrange is for his own good."

Mom lowered her voice. "What if he retreats into himself again and refuses to talk?"

Dad chuckled. "Children never outgrow their need for their parents. He traveled all this way to find us. He's not going to just walk away."

At nine thirty, Mom went to the stockroom to ask me to move some merchandise.

The door was open, and the room was empty.

Dad rushed over. All he found was the cardboard box by the entrance. The freshly washed green slippers sat on top, beside the neatly folded twenty-dollar bill.

When he pulled out the piece of paper, the smile froze on his face.

Mom leaned over to read it. The moment she saw the words, her expression changed too.