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Now, those footsteps were pounding clumsily up the carpeted steps toward his room.
Kyle could only hope that his father was going somewhere else up here. That wasn't likely, though. His older half-brother, Tim, slept down the hall, but their father never gave him this kind of trouble.
Tim was fifteen. His mother had died of an illness when he had been a baby, and as far as their father was concerned, Tim could do nothing wrong. He was also a very sound sleeper.
Kyle knew that his own mother had made his father very angry, probably forever. Much younger than his father, she had left them all several years ago, taking a substantial amount of the family cash and negotiable assets with her. By the time his father's private detectives had tracked her down, she had spent all the money and had taken up with another wealthy man in Florida. The elder Eng had successfully prosecuted her for theft, but he had never recovered from the felling of betrayal.
With Kyle's mother first missing and then in prison, Kyle had continued to live in his father's house.
Lying rigidly, pretending to be sound asleep, Kyle heard the crash as his door was kicked in. It banged against the wall, making him jump. He jerked the covers over his head as a shaft of bright light from the hallway slanted into the room.
"I ssee you, sson of a slut," his father slobbered drunkenly. "You're awake!"
Kyle, with his eyes closed tightly, felt the covers yanked away. Instead of just yelling at him as usual, though, his father reared back and kicked him with the hard heel of one of his expensive imported boots. Kyle cried out, surprised at the pain in his shoulder.
"Ha! Talked to your mother lately, boy?"
"No-" Kyle started, then shut his mouth as a heavy fist swung down and punched him in the back.
"It's our a
Kyle scrambled up on the head of the bed and tried to roll off, but this time his father's fist smashed directly into his forehead. White lights twinkled in his vision, and he momentarily lost his wits as he rolled back on his bed. When the next blow pounded against the side of his head, he barely felt it.
The youngster collapsed on the bed, blinded by tears, unable to move as the beating continued. Suddenly, vaguely through his confusion, he heard his brother's voice.
"Dad! Stop it!" Tim shouted in the doorway. He ran forward and grabbed the older man's arms from behind, pi
"It's our a
"C'mon, Dad!" Tim screamed, his voice cracking.
"Son of a sslut," their father sneered again. He stumbled, but let Tim swing him around toward the door. "Tell her I ssaid sso!"
Tim shoved their father out the door and then slammed it shut after him. Then he had to switch the light on. He stood facing it for a moment, breathing hard. Their father's footsteps shuffled uncertainly at first, then thumped back down the Stairs.
Kyle was in shock, staring teary-eyed but without really crying. His head was throbbing. He watched as Tim knelt by the bed and looked at him closely.
You're go
"He'd never hit you, would he?" Kyle asked, in a voice on the verge of crying.
Tim's face hardened. "He's, uh, sick, Kyle. It's not you. And it's not me, either."
"He thinks you're perfect because your mother was good. And he hates me 'cause my mom is no good."
"Aw, Kyle." Tim looked flustered. He seemed like a grownup sometimes nowadays, but Kyle knew he really wasn't one. "Look. You want to go horseback riding with me tomorrow?"
Kyle nodded.
"You like horses, don't you? Like I do? When I grow up, I'm going to be a horse vet, a doctor, so I can be around them all the time."
"I want to be with you," said Kyle.
"Okay," Tim said gently. "But, look. I've got this poker game pla
"Okay." In that moment, Kyle would have done anything for his older brother, even something far more difficult than just keeping a little secret.
"Are you going to be okay? Maybe I should wake up one of the servants to call a doctor far you."
"I'm okay," Kyle said meekly. "But what if he comes back?"
Tim paused. "You're coming to my room for the night. Tomorrow I'll move you in for good."
Kyle looked up, suddenly hopeful. "He wouldn't do that to you, would he?" he asked again.
"I'll never let him do that again, Kyle," Thu growled through his teeth. "Not if I can help it."
Suddenly Kyle threw his arms around his brother's neck. Finally feeling safe, he began to cry at last.
SONS OF HAWAII
WILLIAM F. WU
At age twenty-four, Kyle Eng sat stiffly in his chair in the courtroom, watching the judge. He could hardly believe that Tim was in this mess, not to mention his own mild-ma
"Case 972-675," droned the uniformed bailiff. Like Kyle and Tim, she was a young Asian Hawaiian, older than Kyle but not much.
"Cute, huh?" Tim whispered, elbowing Kyle. He was slightly taller and had a bony, angular frame. "Hey, loosen up, little brother. You don't accomplish anything by sitting there stiff as a board. You gotta be like a cat, loose and flexible. That way you land on your feet." He jabbed Kyle harder and gri
Kyle reluctantly smiled back, rubbing the spot on his ribs. He was shorter than Tim and had a medium build, Tim even resembled a cat, but Kyle didn't.
Tim was charming, charismatic, and good-looking, quick to size people up and win them over. As he had pla
The money had paid for their educations and had allowed Tim the luxury of investing in his own string of horses. He ran his own stable, breeding as well as riding. One of his hobbies had become reading equine history," including military developments, for relaxation.
Kyle's loyalty and admiration for him had remained absolutely firm. Their friends and colleagues supposed it was because Tim was so independent and quick-witted. The real reason was that after that night Tim had kept his promise to stay between Kyle and their father.
On a number of later occasions before Kyle had his growth, their father had started to beat Kyle again, but Tim had always been nearby. Twice, their father, farther gone into his drinking than ever, had finally turned on Tim and beaten him savagely. Tim had taken the punishment instead of Kyle, who had trusted him implicitly ever since. Kyle's home life had made him passive out of caution, and devoted to his older brother.
"The defendants will rise," said the bailiff, in a shrill but bored voice.
They stood. So did their lawyer, Jake Ishihara.
"How do you plead?" Judge Southforth, a black woman with a streak of gray in her hair right in the front, stifled a yawn.
"Not guilty," said Jake firmly.
The judge was clearly surprised. She looked at Jake for a moment. "You do understand the defendants are charged under the Unlawful Assembly and Treason Act as Amended? Their followers failed to disperse a violent protest when so ordered by the authorities. By this law. that constitutes a declaration of rebellion." She frowned and read from her notes. "As the law reads, 'Failure to disperse shall be considered a declaration of rebellion.' " She looked up pointedly.