EASTER

By Kero Tomison

Alec Winslow is a teenager with an explosive temper and is often considered confrontational but is actually misunderstood and good at heart. Over the years, bullying and rejection have turned a once sweet boy into a time bomb fueled by insecurities and self-loathing. One of the biggest contributors to his unstable behavior, however, is his own family. On April 1, 2018, Easter, as his mother's kinfolk arrives to celebrate the holiday, Alec is determined to fight his sinister urges despite his family's harassment. As the day goes on, he struggles with these impulses as he avoids becoming yet another rampage killer in American history. Be that as it may, Alec isn't the only one in his family harboring dark thoughts and fighting personal demons.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Page Publishing, Inc.
• Release date: May 13, 2024
• ISBN: 9781662440694

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EASTER

Kero Tomison

Copyright © 2024 Kero Tomison

All rights reserved

First Edition

PAGE PUBLISHING

Conneaut Lake, PA

First originally published by Page Publishing 2024

ISBN 978-1-6624-4068-7 (pbk)

ISBN 978-1-6624-4069-4 (digital)

Printed in the United States of America

Table of Contents

Prologue

Part 1: Happy Easter!

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Chapter 30

Chapter 31

Chapter 32

Chapter 33

Chapter 34

Part 2: Quality Time with the Family

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Chapter 30

Chapter 31

Chapter 32

Chapter 33

Chapter 34

Chapter 35

Chapter 36

Chapter 37

Chapter 38

Chapter 39

Chapter 40

Chapter 41

Chapter 42

Chapter 43

Chapter 44

Chapter 45

Chapter 46

Chapter 47

Chapter 48

Chapter 49

Chapter 50

Chapter 51

Chapter 52

Chapter 53

Chapter 54

Chapter 55

Chapter 56

Chapter 57

Chapter 58

Chapter 59

Chapter 60

Chapter 61

Chapter 62

Chapter 63

Chapter 64

Chapter 65

Chapter 66

Chapter 67

Chapter 68

Chapter 69

Chapter 70

Chapter 71

Chapter 72

Chapter 73

Chapter 74

Chapter 75

Part 3: A Job for a Cowboy

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Chapter 30

Chapter 31

Chapter 32

Chapter 33

Chapter 34

Chapter 35

Chapter 36

Chapter 37

Chapter 38

Chapter 39

Chapter 40

Chapter 41

Special Thanks

About the Author

To my friend Jillian Dieterich (1995–2017).

I love books about dysfunctional families.

—Sara Shepard

Insane, am I the only motherfucker with a brain? I'm hearing voices, but all they do is complain. How many times have you wanted to kill? Everything and everyone, say you'll do it but never will.

—Slipknot, Eyeless

Note from the Author

How do I begin this? is what I thought to myself as I tried to construct a quick introduction. Originally, I wasn't going to write a statement explaining myself or my writing, but the more I wrote Easter, the more I realized I should put something like this together out of courtesy for all potential readers.

First and foremost, thank you for taking interest in my novel, regardless if you've already made the purchase or not. I've been equally supported and doubted for wanting to pursue my passions, but I assure you, fellow reader, I've got the gumption.

Secondly, the story you are about to read consists of subject matter that may be considered anxiety inducing, disturbing, and unpleasant for many. Without giving too much away, for those who enjoy a good surprise, it would be rated R if it were a motion picture. The content rating would include the following: strong bloody violence, disturbing behavior, language, nudity, drug references, and scenes (or in this case, one chapter) with violent sexual content. I am fully aware that this tale is not for most readers. Although Easter has been described by my test audience as being intense, to my credit they have always made sure to inform me that it's well written and a good read. So, there's that.

I hope that those of you who follow through with turning every page of this harrowing narrative find it to be useful in understanding the dynamics of dysfunction and the negativity that is accompanied with it. Additionally, this story explores the consequences that follow ill-wished thoughts, but that a glimmer of hope can exist in these dark places. Perhaps you'll find this tale relatable to a certain degree and feel a sort of relief from the tensions caused by your own everyday life.

Please take care of yourselves and your loved ones, and always find support and healthy releases for whatever life may throw your way. Also, remember as you read through Easter, it's only fiction.

Prologue

The tragedy that befell the Winslows and their extended family is a gruesome and unpleasant one, at best. Over the course of five years, I have taken what I have learned from diaries and entries, both digital and physical, to construct a narrative that is accurate to the personalities of each individual as well as an approximate timeline of the events that took place. I have also conducted my own separate interviews with the various residents of Thomas County and the colleagues of each person involved in this incident of misfortune to bring a much more educated look at each family member's inner workings. Additionally, I have done extensive research using the police reports filed after the incident to further solidify the facts. These include crime scene photos, interviews with surviving family members, video evidence (where available), and floor plans of the home. I will neither confirm nor deny whether or not I may have trespassed at the crime scene on one instance or another, but it would have also proved to be essential when looking at how the events that had taken place unfolded. Some events are combined or imagined for dramatic and interpretive purposes. Furthermore, some dialogue is imagined to be consistent with these events. Be warned that what lies ahead is truly not something for the faint of heart, for what took place was an American family's civil war.

The Independent Journalist, April 2023

Part 1: Happy Easter!

Chapter 1

Sunday, April 1, 2018

7:30 a.m.

There were two things that came to Alec Winslow's mind when he awoke that Easter morning: that today would be plenty dreadful, and that somebody would die. The latter, Alec suspected, might even be by his own hand.

Alec hated holidays, because that meant he had to endure another episode of pretending to love his family. On an average day, he had to tolerate his parents with their strange asphyxiation with his every step, cough, and bowel movement. Being the youngest in his household, Alec always had to endure an uncomfortable amount of attention from them. However, it wasn't the obsessively loving kind of attention they gave, but rather one filled with micromanagement and criticism. As far back as Alec could remember, he wasn't capable of doing anything right and was made to feel guilty for it. He could never improve, no matter how much effort he put forth, thus he became paranoid and self-conscious about everything he did. Alec figured there would be some kind of law against such treatment, but then again styles of parenting usually landed in a gray zone. His parents provided all the necessities and more. They were well-off, and there wasn't a thing in the world they couldn't obtain. However, there was something they didn't possess that couldn't be bought or held: it was love. That basic fundamental was certainly something his parents were competent of. He'd witnessed it with their interactions with his siblings, but Alec didn't feel that warmth personally. It was as if they kept him around because they felt obligated to, not because they wanted to. He felt like a burden on his family and the world. He knew he was good at heart, but he was also at the brink of how much he could endure.

As for his siblings, they weren't as troublesome. One was dead, but Trevor had been cocky and arrogant when he was alive. As for the other two, they just let Alec be. Salena, his sister, was probably the only family member that he actually loved. She always checked up on him and was genuinely curious about his mental well-being. She listened to what he said, and not particularly how he said it. Salena would talk her brother through his emotions without passing judgment, or at least to the best of her abilities, and that was exactly what he needed. Last was Vincent, who was kind, but there wasn't much of a connection between the two of them. They had a silent relationship despite being closer in age. Neither of the boys were at fault, but neither really went out of their way to improve on their family ties.

There were horribly awful days like Thanksgiving, Christmas, and birthdays that rallied the entire clan of obnoxious fools to congregate. These occasions were an invitation for all the people Alec hated to be in one place. Although they were there to celebrate a holiday, it seemed more like a gathering for them to use him as a punching bag. It was worse for Alec when his household had lived in the city limits. The Richardses (his mother's maiden name) had always resided within close proximity of one another whereas his father's side of the family lived on the East Coast and were phantoms. His extended family was just as bad as his parents, except when they were around, he experienced judgment in all its different shades. Alec was incredibly thankful when his tribe had been uprooted more than an hour and a half away from the city. There wasn't much to leave behind in Denver, because Alec didn't have any friends or teachers he admired. There were no meaningful connections there nor were there any to be made in Thomas County. It wasn't as if he was some strange recluse that hissed at the sunlight and fled from others. In fact, it was yet another aspect of life in which he put an earnest bit of effort into, but could never seem to succeed. An individual can only take so much scrutiny before they decide to reserve their efforts, and in Alec's case, that point had come a year before that faithful Easter morning.

Alec liked to spend most of his time by himself, which is partially why he dedicated his entire spring break confined to his room reading up on birds—did you know that the ostrich has the biggest eyes out of any land animal?—and building leftover model airplanes. He'd been grounded since Friday night anyways, so it's not like he had anything better to do. Occasionally, he'd be interrupted by his parents, which proved to be a gargantuan inconvenience. Some would consider this a lonely life, but for Alec, it was heavenly. He thoroughly enjoyed his alone time. In fact, when his parents told him about their new home, Alec had been ecstatic to learn that their closest neighbor was at least two miles away. He considered himself lucky that there was no way he'd be caught off guard by having to interact with a nearby resident. Another added bonus was that no major service provider had yet to build a sufficient number of signal towers that would extend their range through these forested regions. This meant that the Winslows were reliant on a landline and could only make calls on their cell phones as long as there was Wi-Fi. Alec's grounding resulted in his phone being relinquished and hidden somewhere in his parents' domain. Even when his phone was in his possession, Alec always kept it off anyways; there was no one he needed to talk to. He had even avoided anything pertaining to social media because it reminded him of the masquerade people would put on to convince others that their lives were great when in fact they were not. He had another, more personal rationale for why he stuck to this practice, but the less said about that, the better he felt in the end.

While one may suspect that Alec's antisocial behavior and animosity toward his family could have been caused by hormones—he was fifteen going on sixteen after all—he knew that was not the case, though the change in his body certainly didn't help. It had always come down to one simple thing in Alec's logic: remove the genetic connection between him and his family, and what was left were conflicting personalities that would never force themselves to be around one another. Only empty hugs and I love yous exchanged for the satisfaction of feeling normal. The reality of it all was this: his family, the people who knew him best and were supposed to love him, treated him the same as any stranger had when he tried to make their acquaintance.

This realization had been made a few years before Alec had even started puberty. When he was much younger, Alec had suspected that there was something off about his family but was too naive to identify what exactly that juxtaposition was. Reflecting on it made Alec feel foolish, because the answer was so blatant that only those blinded by ignorance were unable to see it.

Now, mind you, normality was something everyone typically strived for to some degree. It was the societal standards that kept people from becoming outcasts. For Alec's family, they tried to desperately meet that status quo so they wouldn't experience the disparagement they deserved. However, it was as if the more effort they put into it, the more unusual and belligerent they would become. To Alec, it was comparable to a slapstick comedy scene where the protagonist tried to sneak past a guard without alerting them, but the harder they tried to remain inconspicuous, the more rubber ducks they stepped on. There was absolutely nothing humorous about Alec's family's practices, though. It was actually quite painful to watch because of the ridiculous lengths they underwent to maintain this fantasy. Alec gave his family the benefit of the doubt and figured they probably meant well, but then again, he wasn't sure that he could believe that his kin knew how to sincerely commit to their intentions. All of them came off as selfish and egotistical people—this, most certainly, almost specifically, was something he noticed about his own parents. They were people who wanted to jabber on, but not listen. To give an opinion, but not accept anyone else's.

All these nagging thoughts plagued Alec's mind, and he hadn't even rolled out of bed yet.

Chapter 2

7:35 a.m.

Alec peeked out of his room and was thankful to see there was no one around. As he snuck out into the hallway, Alec saw the hole in the wall separating his passageway from the staircase corridor. It was an unfriendly reminder of the events from the beginning of the weekend, but was also yet another memento of how bad his temper could be. It wasn't pleasant punching drywall, and up until a few days ago, Alec hadn't actually broken through, but his anger had gotten to a point he'd never felt before, and the pain in his fist that came from that decision wasn't necessarily the worst part of it.

Trying to put recent events behind him, Alec went around the corner and looked up the vacant corridor before rushing past it. He was so preoccupied with being unnoticed that he almost tripped over Max, the family dog who snoozed away on the floor, as he made his way into the other half of the sprawling living room. The twelve-year-old black mouth cur spent most of his time sleeping these days. In February, during Salena's birthday celebration no less, Max had a nosebleed with an abnormally heavy flow. The poor dog had soaked the white carpet with his crimson fluids, which had added to the horrific pandemonium that swept through the Winslow household that night. They scrambled to get to the vet hospital and had gotten there just before they had locked up for the evening. Turns out that Max had become a hemophiliac, and a sore in his snout had hemorrhaged, creating the bloodbath that had ensued. He was prescribed steroids to get his platelets back to where they needed to be. Since that evening, Max had been lethargic, and if he did motivate enough to move, it was to eat or get a drink of water.

When the Winslows adopted Max from a shelter in Denver, he'd been a puppy and a rambunctious one at that. He grew a bit and mellowed out but was still spunky and full of energy, especially when there was a squirrel or rabbit. Now, gray hairs had peppered his snout, and with each passing day, he seemed to have lost a little more of his will to live. Even the mentioning of an outing barely excited him. At the very most, maybe Max would wag his tail, hitting the floor with a gentle and rhythmic thump while he lay on the floor. Alec had expected the canine to pass away on any given day at this point, but after realizing Max was still breathing in his deep slumber, Alec bent down and petted him gently. Max's eyes opened to slits, then closed them and exhaled with a huff.

Max's progression from lively puppy to exhausted old dog made Alec realize something: he didn't want to grow old. He knew he'd die at some point, as all living things do, but Alec figured he'd rather expire while he was still full of life and not when he had to watch it pass him by in pain and prescribed various drugs that could worsen his health. Within the moment, Alec was uncertain if maybe his lively period of life had already become just a memory.

Alec recognized that he had been dillydallying for too long, and that there was a chance that his mother would catch him wandering the ground floor. So, he tiptoed and exited through the French doors nearby.

Chapter 3

7:42 a.m.

The morning air was brisk, but Alec could tell that it had the potential to warm up before lunch. Oftentimes, Alec compared his feigned positivity and hidden emotional struggles to Colorado's spring/fall weather, sunny and welcoming initially, that is until you step outside only to realize you've been deceived by the cold chill that awaits. Unlike Colorado, Alec felt that he would always be gelid in his soul. His internal sun wasn't likely to radiate and liven his spirits. Alec often felt like he was that one patch of snow tucked beneath the shade that wouldn't go away until summer, a dirty and frigid eyesore.

Driving from Denver into Thomas County, one would find enormous scaling peaks that seemed to touch the sky. This geography remained consistent all the way to the remote community. There was the main portion of the town—which included a shopping center, two family-owned restaurants as well as many more corporate-operated establishments, a hunting store, and a bar called McDaniels'. Beyond that was an exit for County Road 8. This stretch of road started out paved, but then transitioned to beaten dirt after only half a mile. The road passed several spaced-out properties and climbed in elevation as it went on. Eventually the road plateaued and hid within another valley. The Winslow property was tucked in that depression secluded by the mountains and various hills. The major selling point for all the properties in Thomas County was the isolated privacy.

These hills—out-of-staters often mistook them as mountains—rose steadily and fell sharply all around the nearby perimeter of the Winslows' home. They were like fortress walls that were scattered across the landscape, which created a reverse island, one trapped in by land as opposed to sea. Alec had taken a film history class last semester, and had connected the geography to a character in an expressionist's film, one whose feelings of isolation were also represented through the world he lived in. Alec hadn't always been so accustomed to being a loner. At one point in his life, Alec relied on the acceptance of others painstakingly, but after so many instances of being ignored and underappreciated, he came to welcome all opportunities to be alone. The fact that Alec was the only member of his household with a room on the ground floor was, ironically, not his choice. To Alec, it seemed more like an excuse to have him run up and down the thirteen set of stairs right outside his room anytime his parents had a question for him. It was usually something unimportant like his suggestion for dinner or, God forbid, how his day had been. It seemed like they would do anything to push his buttons so he'd lose his temper.

Alec closed his eyes and filled his lungs with the chilled oxygen. The exhale felt refreshing and gratifying. When he opened them and looked to the sky, he saw a hawk gliding overhead. It soared, then dove into a tree near the outskirts of the property—did you know there are 238 species of hawks worldwide, and 28 of those reside in North America? The one Alec saw, he suspected, may have been a red-tailed hawk.

Alec was envious of birds because they could go anywhere they desired. Their ability to travel so high above the ground that they didn't have to involve themselves with anything below unless they absolutely needed to was liberating to him. He yearned to be distant from humanity. People were prone to ignorance and pawning off their emotional distresses. Alec never boasted about humans being very bright creatures, despite their ability to be self-aware and could construct a beehive known as civilization. The more advanced humanity got, the more they seemed to digress into their savage and primitive roots. Only the humans of today were better dressed and felt the need to be pampered constantly.

The cynical thoughts of civilized living were quickly pushed aside as Alec contemplated another marvel: airplanes. His interest in aircraft were directly connected to the very same idea that being far above the Earth was where he may find peace. Although it was worth mentioning that he was much less interested in the facts about planes. Alternatively, with birds, Alec was actually infatuated with the creatures. Alec loved all aircraft but would only be willing to pilot small ones if he was given the opportunity. He'd never want to pilot for a commercial airline. There was no tranquility in that. Alec's idea of flying a plane was purely for pleasure and therapy, not for profit or benefits offered by a corporation. A commercial airline pilot was expected to do many things that Alec could only describe as nightmarish. One thing he would have to be tolerant of was navigating through an airport in order to get to his gate to transport a mob of ornery travelers. He'd have to endure going through security, which was a necessity, but always added a good amount of stress to the already burdening process. Alec had been on his fair share of airplanes and always loathed airports. It was as if once people entered the building, they lost all sense of decency. They would just bump into one another and grunt like cows in a slaughterhouse. Traveling was extremely stressful by itself, but never mind the screaming kids and the entitled frequent flyers.

Alec had been conscious that his occasional thoughts of killing himself or his own family would probably carry over into that field of work if he chose to pursue it. He had considered at one point that if he did become a pilot for the purpose of working for a major airline, he could see himself having a really bad day and crashing the plane intentionally.

This is your captain speaking, tuck your head between your legs and kiss your ass goodbye, folks. You can thank me later. He pictured himself saying as he pushed the yoke down, sending the Boeing into a nosedive.

Alec gave a faint chuckle at the thought. His morbid sense of humor often kept him from doing regrettable things, but it also kept him from making friends in the process. People were always shy about the subject of death and the jokes that tend to accompany it. However, Alec found it to be one of the healthiest coping mechanisms he had.

What Alec truly yearned for was to have a new perspective, one that was heightened. He wanted to observe the troubles below, and not to be affected by them.

Chapter 4

7:45 a.m.

As Alec finished his stretching, he looked to his right, south, toward the gigantic red barn, home to his father's workshop and the forbidden room, which had been Trevor's dwelling, but was now locked at all times. The key hung from a chain around his mother's neck, and she was the only one who went in there. Though it was referred to as a room, it was actually an apartment built above the barn with its own bathroom and full kitchen—none of which, fortunately, had been built by his father. There were darkly stained stairs that led from the garage bay door to the room, and beneath those stairs, located in the face of the barn closest to Alec, was the primary door that allowed access to the workshop.

A road stretched northbound from the bay door and curved to the eastern bend of the roundabout that was located at the front of the home. A vinyl picket fence that was only waist high rested at the edge of the yard and ran parallel with the road. Near the barn, the barrier cornered and ended at the outer edge of the stairs. The yard and driveway were segregated by a gate, in addition to one at the front corner of the house directly to his left. Beyond the barn was a lot where his father kept his bulldozer and excavator. Next to that area was a shooting range, because this was America after all.

When all the guests arrived, his father would certainly take out a few guns to show off and fire at targets. Sean wasn't allowed to buy sports cars because Debby wouldn't let him, so he bought guns, and somehow that was acceptable. All the grown men in the family were equally as fascinated by guns. There was one exception: Nathan, his cousin Laurie's husband. He only pretended to support guns just to be one of the boys, but in all actuality, he was as gun-shy as they came. Alec was neutral on guns. He grew up with them, had been taught proper etiquette, and knew how to clean one efficiently. It was a life skill Alec didn't really ask for but supposed he was thankful for the knowledge. These lessons had come from his father trying to make his boys as hypermasculine as possible. They were expected to love sports, hot rods, and other manly things. If it wasn't for Debby, Sean would probably have an extravagant man cave that he'd force his sons to hang out in until they were rugged enough. Alternatively, Alec had wished that being coached on how to handle his volatile emotions had been the focus of his father's guidance.

It was queer to Alec that people had such a heightened interest in a tool whose only purpose was to kill or wound other living things. Yes, it was a form of security, but at the end of the day, would they be willing to use it for such a thing? As far as Alec's entire family was concerned, he felt that none of them had the courage necessary to use a gun for defense. Instead, the topic of discussion that emerged from them being brought out was usually the hypothetical If zombies became a reality. It came off as a cruel pipe dream to shoot humanoid creatures without any moral bindings. However, if it were a maniac with the objective of killing others, Alec felt most people would hesitate when considering pulling the trigger. That's not to say that Alec was some kind of Clint Eastwood, but he did feel that guns could solve a lot of his problems. Yes, there would be dire consequences that would change his life. Yes, he recognized the gravity that came with taking the life of another person, especially when they weren't an actual threat. Then again, that's why he hadn't done it yet, and was desperate to keep himself from doing so.

Nevertheless, he had fantasized a devious plan if the guns did come out today. Alec thought maybe he'd have a little misfire. The old Oops, this gun had a little more kick than I expected bit. He'd have to do it with the right one at the right opportunity in order to make it look like a legitimate accident. While Alec did have a little more bias toward his parents, he didn't have any particular family member in mind he'd want to do that to yet. It'd take a little more button pushing than waking up on the wrong side of the bed to nudge him to those limits. Still, these thoughts disturbed Alec. He hated knowing that he could be driven to that point. With a day like this one taking place, and the events from Friday's dinner still being so fresh, he could see that edge closer now than he could before.

Chapter 5

7:50 a.m.

Straight ahead, east, was the excrescence that was referred to as a work in progress by his father. It was difficult not to immediately notice the gaping hole in the middle of the yard, for it was twenty feet or so from the home and more than fifteen feet in circumference. It was supposed to be a pond, but it looked more like a sinkhole. The pit was outlined with uneven concrete slabs that made it appear as if a patio had been swallowed by the earth.

After a year, one would assume that such a project would have, at the very least, inched its way a smidge closer toward completion. However, it had not, and Alec seemed to be the only one who possessed the foresight to know that it wasn't going to. Shortly after moving into the home, their father made the unconventional decision to convert the laundry room on the top floor into a bathroom. The original layout had the laundry room connect to the master bathroom, which then led to the master bedroom. The loop came full circle with the main hallway. Sean wasn't keen to the idea of sharing his bathroom with whichever two kids ended up on the top floor with them. Debby didn't particularly mind but didn't think it'd be fair to have them run up the stairs naked after bathing.

So Sean separated the two rooms and put the appliances downstairs in the living room where there was a closet that was just big enough. While relocating them, he decided to transform the downstairs kitchen so that it was up to par with the one upstairs. He liked the idea of being able to cook within view of the TV since his wife only let them have one in the whole house. Sean got the necessities in place, then put it on the backburner because he'd lost steam.

When Sean Winslow had exclaimed with excitement what he had planned for the yard while the family—Trevor had already been dead a few months by this point—sat at the table for dinner, he was ignorantly unaware that it was a project that wasn't likely to ever be finished. Sean never followed through with anything unless he knew exactly what he was doing. Going from segregated bathrooms to secondary kitchens so quickly proved too much to handle, and the pond would be both of those, plus some. In this case, the pond was going to take a considerable amount of research. There would be the element of pouring concrete and making sure it settled properly. Last would be the installation of a pump and filter on top of that.

It is worth mentioning that Sean was desperate to find an outlet for the grieving of his dead son and became attached to the first idea that came to mind. Sadly, Sean hadn't considered improving his relationships with his surviving children, although Alec was somewhat thankful that his father hadn't included him in his grieving process. Sean could have forced Alec and Vincent to go fishing, or participate in a similar form of father-son bonding. Although Alec was surprised that Sean hadn't gone gung ho about making men out of his sons, considering how Trevor was the most macho out of the bunch.

Once Sean displayed enthusiasm for the task he'd come up with, no one dared to tell him not to commit to such a thing, because he took discouragement quite personally. They all recognized that each of them needed to cope with Trevor's death in their own way, and who were they to tell one another not to construct something in his memory? So, it had stunned everyone at the table when Alec had actually spoken up.

Dad, Alec had said shyly. Sean hadn't responded, but instead looked up from his plate and watched his youngest with blank eyes. That night they ate sirloin, and Sean had stopped mid bite, with a piece of juicy medium rare meat dangling from his fork.

Alec continued, I think you should maybe get one of your employees to help you.

It's a simple project, son. I have everything I need in the barn, Sean had said pridefully in an attempt to dismiss his son's concern.

That was the thing about Alec's entire family, not just his parents. They all would rather divert the conversation as opposed to owning up to the flaws in their own logic. There was something honorable, yet vulnerable, about someone admitting that they weren't knowledgeable enough and could use some help. Alec already knew that this was another one of those attempts, but he pressed on anyways.

You had everything to finish the kitchen downstairs too—

What are you suggesting, Alec? Every set of eyes at the table locked onto him and communicated one pleading message: Shut the fuck up!

Although he should have taken the hint, Alec proceeded further.

I'm suggesting if you really want to finish it, maybe pay someone to give you a hand so that it'll actually get done.

From that sentence on, anger erupted from Sean as he elaborated on the difficulties of home improvement projects and how his fourteen-year-old (at the time) son wouldn't understand that due to his lack of experience, and so on and so forth. Sean had an extreme amount of pride being the owner of a highly successful construction company. Therefore, he was capable of such projects—even though Sean could not mix concrete correctly—and didn't need a helping hand. Alec hadn't even bothered to pay attention to the point that his father was attempting to make. Not necessarily because he didn't respect his father, although there were moments where that had been the case, but because his father wasn't exactly saying anything worth listening to. The principle was the same in any case: Sean wouldn't finish the project if he ran into a snag.

Alec smiled with a sense of delight greater than what his father could ever experience, because he had been right. The downstairs kitchen was still unfinished, the hole in the yard was only a pond now because it had filled up halfway with water over its time of exposure, and his father still couldn't mix concrete for shit. The latter was proven to be true, because Sean had lined the hole all by himself, and the result was the lumpy bulk that now resided as an unkindly reminder to his failed attempts to lay down foundation. The real knee-slapper was that Sean couldn't figure out the filtration and fountain system, so he decided to take a break so he could do some research. Unfortunately for him, that break had lasted over 365 days, and counting.

Chapter 6

7:55 a.m.

Finally, to Alec's left, north, was the gate leading to the front yard. A shed rested beside it, and beyond them was the roundabout where the awful guests may park. In a matter of only a few hours, the flock would arrive, and the entire circular junction would be filled with cars. Just like the owners, their automobiles had a nice and presentable exterior, but once inside, one would realize just how cheap and unremarkable they were.

Alec decided on this particular morning that if he must endure a lack of personal space and alone time, then he would force moments to happen for himself. This was the only instance where he could guarantee for some peace and quiet, even if it was a drastically short one. Once his grandparents, aunt, uncles, and cousins arrived, it was going to be like fist fighting a bear just to take a leak in private. Furthermore, this was Alec's only opportunity to prepare himself for the wretched day ahead. The instant that his mother realized he was awake, she would put him to work. Worse yet, if Alec had actually slept in, she would practically kick his door down and wake him up with demands that were delivered like she was a drill sergeant.

Alec didn't understand why she would do such a thing. He wasn't allowed to ask her anything until she had at least one cup of coffee in her. Even then, don't think about making that question one