chapter 1

Standing in the kitchen Edward Downings, ran one hand over the top of his bald head as he spoke on the phone to his brother who lived across the country. The current topic of discussion was their children, Bennent who worked as a child psychologist always had an opinion or two on how he should be raising them and always asked after his niece and nephew. So Edward updated him on his kids. Edward had just caught his brother up on Ezekiel, his son and now moved on to gush about some of the latest test scores his daughter, Eliza, his oldest child, had gotten on a test she had been worried about for one of her college courses.

“Yeah, she did great, even after all the stress she put on herself my girl was perfect” Edward’s smile beamed as he thought about her sitting at the kitchen table with books out studying, a dark cloud practically over her head afraid she would fail an important test.

Coming down the stairs just in time to hear what his father was saying, Ezekiel, who went by Zeek, stopped just shy of the bottom step as he made his way from his bedroom to fetch a couple sodas for himself and his best friend that was over.

Letting out a breath in a long sigh, the eighteen year old knew his old man was talking about his sister. ‘Of course he’s talking about Liz’, he thought, bemoaning yet another instance of his father worshipping the very ground his sister walked on.

The widowed Downings patriarch, Edward, was a man in his fifties, as could be told by the fact that his grey hair was balding, giving him a gleaming dome upon the peak of his scalp, and he had a full beard in the same shade. At five foot ten, the green-eyed Caucasian man was possessed of wide shoulders, but a sedentary job as a construction project manager and having let himself go after the passing of his wife had led to him growing quite a gut, and flab all around.

“Yep, perfect.” Zeek heard his father say it once more, making him tighten his grip on the railing considering just heading back up to his room, having no idea his father was responding to something his uncle had said on the phone.

“Oh did I tell you about the ice cream maker she got us the other day? I mean we eat so much of the stuff, it’d be cheaper to just make our own? Talk about a perfect present!”.

Zeek made his way to the kitchen, glaring at his father as he spoke into his cellphone, seeing the man mouth the words. “It’s your uncle Bennett*.

Acknowledging his son who looked to be in a mood, Edward tried to give him a friendly smile, but was disappointed to only get a glare in return, holding in a sigh he continued his conversation. “So she is back home for the summer and you’ll never guess what; to get ahead she enrolled herself in summer school at a local community college. Isn’t it just like her? Even during her summer break she’s got her nose to the grindstone. What did I do to deserve such a perfect daughter? Huh? I mean, there are other describing words other than perfect…”

On the other end of the phone Bennet, a mostly timid man, admonished his brother. Telling him how using a word like perfect all the time could lead to problems with both of his children, mostly grown or not.

Zeek leant against the kitchen counter top, his glare fading away, instead he gave his father a blank stare, hands in his pockets in a way that he thought made himself look cool, like James Dean or some other kind of rebel without a cause. The black-jean, white long-sleeve shirt, black leather jacket-wearing, green-eyed, nineteen year old stood at five foot eight, a good two inches shorter than his father and to his annoyance the same height as his older sister. He was unemployed, a bit of a layabout and unlike his father he had short blonde hair like his mother and sister. His own hair tickled the tops of his ears, his pale skin reflecting the fact he didn’t get out in the sun much. His slim frame was a miracle given his junk food diet, with a body devoid of any real muscle with the lack of effort he put in despite his old man always annoying with some bonding activity like lifting weights together.

Edward clocked onto his son’s look of disdain, as he just stood there. “Err I think Ezekiel wants something. I’ll call you back later, buddy. Alright, bye now” Moving to give his son his full attention after hanging up the phone. “Something the matter, son?”.

Zeek scoffed, an incredulous look on his face. “I’m nineteen, I told you when I was like twelve to call me Zeek.” That wasn’t what he wanted to talk to him about, but they had talked about this hundreds of times. He had a fond memory of his mother singing his name to him when she wanted his attention, he missed her but wasn’t even sure if he actually remembered what she looked like or if he was just imprinting the image of her from photos into his memory. His father would start calling him Zeek, but would always go back to using his full name.

Running his hand over his bald head, Edward nodded. “Your mother always called you by your full name and…” The older man was cut off by a curt reply from his son before he was going to tell him he would try to do better.

“You aren’t Mom and I heard what you were saying about Liz. Really, Dad? Perfect? Liz is only perfect because you keep saying she is. Jeez, you worship the ground she walks on”

His son echoing back what his nosey breath said hit a nerve, one that stung. Being a single parent had been difficult. He had even gone to his brother and sister in law on advise on what to do after his wife passed. He spent so much time traveling because of his job that raising the kids had mostly been left up to her and then it was suddenly all on him and he felt like so much of a failure. Still the way his son had said his piece and speaking over him at the same time set him off. Ezekiel had become unruly; everything he tried just didn’t seem to work out, while Eliza and him had never been closer. “She deserves to be called perfect sometimes, because unlike some people, she knows how to keep her nose clean.”

‘Like hell she does.” Zeek said squaring up on his father, as his adrenaline started pumping. “She’s just good at not getting caught is all!’

Shaking his head Edward lowered the register of his voice without raising it in volume. “And she knows the value of hard work. Everything she has she’s worked for. And you? Ha! You’ve had your life handed to you on a silver platter. I know I should’ve been a firmer hand with you growing up, but with the accident…” Edward’s deep voice trailed off as what he said felt like a double edged sword.

Edward’s wife, Marcie, had died in a car accident twelve years ago when his boy was seven, Eliza had more time with her, but they had been both so young, Eliza only a year older he wasn’t sure how much more she remembered. Ezekiel had been in the car when it happened and by some miracle had survived in that crumpled car. His little boy was a given miracle in the face of devastation. After the funeral his son had been truly treated as the baby of the family, being doted on and given a long leash to act out as he pleased, Edward apologizing on his son’s behalf whenever he got in trouble for pulling lame or destructive pranks with his best friend.

When puberty hit the siblings, Ezekiel truly began acting out, seeking attention wherever he went and alienating many of his peers. While Eliza on the other hand, blossomed, becoming the doting daughter. Through her achievements; like getting good grades, becoming popular at school gave the girl own type of privilege, one she latched onto using the fact her brother took up so much of Edward’s attention that she got away with whatever salacious behaviors she partook in, her intelligence helping her and her friends avoid being caught.

Clenching his jaw and imagining a typical argument with his father in his head, Zeek just scoffed, rolled his eyes and swaggered back to his room, his father calling out behind him,

“What the hell was that about?” Edward threw his hands up in the air feeling defeated and more angry at himself for losing his cool. “Way to be a leader you old fool.” he admonished himself.