I’ve had all I can Stand

Still in the corner of the parking lot where he had used the chemical to remove the Omega Pi bands, Stan leaned back against the passenger side of the minivan, looking down at the phone in his hands, an empty feeling in the pit of his stomach. This was all so bizarre. Closing his eyes, he lifted his chin toward the sky hollering, “FUUUUUCK!” a coarse yell, a mix of rage, frustration, and grief.

Several other people within earshot paused to look over, making sour expressions of disproval.

“Mind your business,” he growled. His phone rang. It was Sam.

Letting out a long breath, he swiped the green arrow.

“Stan, honey-“

“Stop,” he directed. “I got to get this off my chest. If you knew some evil shit was coming for your son, as his mother you had a moral obligation and responsibility to do everything in your power to protect him! You should have told me! I would have and will fight for him until my last breath and there is nothing left of me to give, until the heart in my chest ceases to beat!” the more emotional he became, the cadence of his speech increased.

“I was wrong not to tell you, I see that now,” she sobbed. “You are his father and you of all people deserved to know, had the right to know.”

“Yes I did,” he acknowledged, exhaling loudly.

Sam let out a slow breath, “I screwed this up so bad baby, I want to make it right, for Oliver, for all of us,” she said.

“Yeah, okay, now what’s this business about my mother?”

“Her name was Mildred, honey, she loved you. I’m begging you not to do anything rash. There are plans in place to rescue Oliver and I know you don’t want to jeopardize him. I don’t want to lose you either, can’t lose either of you to them,” she pleaded.

In the background of her call, he could hear the sound of the PA system announcing boarding.

“Honey, I love Oliver more than life itself, and I love you, I have to go but I’ll be there as soon as I can. Stan,” she petitioned, voice breaking.

“I love you too Sam, I do, but we got to make this right,” he declared.

“We will, I promise you,” she assured. “I have to go. I will see you soon. I love you.”

“Yep,” he replied, disconnecting the call.

Through the call, Kent remained silent, quietly rubbing at the irritated and pinkish skin where the bands had been. “I really appreciate you getting those bands off,” he said.

Not bothering to look over at the lanky youth, “Yeah,” Stan said.

Seated in the open cargo door of the van next to Stan, “So, um, I wasn’t eavesdropping or anything, but that all seemed kind of intense. I’m not sure what we’re going to do,” said the boy, unsure of his standing with the older man.

“You? You’re going to lay low,” Stan replied, nodding slowly.

“Where?”

Slipping his phone into his shirt pocket, “That my young friend is a very good question. My head is spinning right now, but for the moment we have the advantage because those evil magpies have no clue we are on to them,” he responded. “Stop rubbing your wrist.”

“I still burns sort of,” protested the youth.

“At least they’re off,” he said, reaching through the open window in the passenger door and fetching a bottle of water from the console and handing it to the boy. “Here, use this.”

Kent alternated dousing his wrists until the bottle was empty.

“I think we need to get out of here in case they have some way of knowing we took them off and decide they need to come investigate,” he urged, walking around the front of the van, glancing at traffic, specifically looking for a police car or anything else suspicious.

“Okay,” Kent agreed, getting up and sliding the cargo door closed and climbing in the passenger seat.

“If we see any of them, we might need to ditch the van too, one of them broads is a cop and took down my info,” Stan said, starting the vehicle.

Kent nodded, rubbing his inflamed wrist against the denim fiber of his pants.

“Quit rubbing it,” Stan chastised.

“Where are we going?” countered Kent.

“Are we there yet?”

A confused look clouded Kent’s face, “What?”

“Just saving you the trouble of asking me another question I don’t know the answer to. What is your deal anyway? Hold on, McCready, your last name is McCready? As in McCready Oil?” Stan asked, flicking the kid a glance.

Kent nodded.

“Shit. Any connection to that thing?” It was in all the papers about ten years back. Apparently, Oil baron Colt McCready shot his wife to death and then turned the gun on himself in a murder suicide. At least that was how all the national papers played out the scandal. Two kids left behind, a boy and a girl.

“My parents. I don’t really like to talk about it much,” Kent replied softly.

“Jesus, sorry kid, fuck,” Stan murmured, unsure of what words to say next.

Shrugging his stooped shoulders, “It was a long time ago,” he replied.

Riding in silence for several minutes, Stan broke the uncomfortable tension, “With the kind of money in your family, what the hell are you doing in a residential dorm?” Stan asked, snorting.

“Any money coming from my parents was placed in trust for me until my twenty-first birthday. My aunt is my legal guardian and custodian of that trust until then and she thinks it is important I gain an appreciation for the, how did she word it, the toils of the common man,” Kent explained.

“Kind of makes sense,” Stan conceded.

“Except my sister was sent to the finest schools and wanted for nothing. Right now she is COO for McCready Oil,” the boy replied with a slight shrug of his shoulders.

“She’s older than you?”

“Five and half years,” answered Kent.

“Then maybe we just found ourselves an ace in the hole here,” Stan chuckled.

Frowning, “I’m pretty sure she is an Omega Pi,” Kent replied, popping Stan’s bubble.

“And your aunt?”

Kent nodded, “Yep, both she and my mother belonged to the sorority too, that’s why my sister was a shoo-in.”

“Not any of my business, but how much are you worth?”

“On paper, generally around a couple of billion or so. Depends mostly on the global market and how stocks are trading,” supplied the youth.

“Dollars?” Stan choked.

Kent chuckled, “All of McCready Oil, my father left it all to me before the, you know, the thing,” he explained.

“Nothing for your sister?”

Kent shook his head, “Like I said, she governs McCready Oil, but on paper it’s all mine, or will be when I turn twenty one.”

“Holy shit,” he breathed with a whistle.

“They were twins you know,” Kent offered.

“What? Who?” Stan queried, clicking the turn signal indicator and pulling around a corner.

“My mom and my aunt, they were twins, like, you know before,” he shared.

Stan frowned, “Kind of weird, I mean, like just, I don’t know, like living with a ghost or something,” he tried to clarify.

Shrugging again, “I guess, same mannerisms, same laugh, I don’t know, I honestly didn’t see her a whole lot as she was always busy with overseeing the business,” expanded Kent. “She never really had much time for me.”

Slapping his hands on the steering wheel, “That’s because she’s in on all this shit. She wants you out of the way to keep her greedy little gold digging hands on your daddy’s fortune. Evil,” Stan declared, his cell phone making noise that sounded like a beer can opening twice is quick succession.

“I don’t think she can,” Kent said, but there was no conviction in his voice. “I mean, they tried to contest the will on account of the crime, but it held up.”

Paranoia beginning to take root in his belly, “Cops, judges, lawyers, CEOs, these broad have tendrils everywhere, they won’t need the courts if they can just quietly push you out of the way,” Stan countered, mentally replaying his conversation with Sam and about the breadth of the organization stealing young men. Maybe there was no other choice.

Pulling into a Walmart, Stan parked the minivan, concealing it in an anonymous sea of other vehicles. Pulling out the phone, he saw two message on his phone, both from Deacon.

‘Just saw the biggest squirrel ever. That CHICK who was supposed to be in OLIVE country just left the henhouse. Followed her to a fancy place near the edge of the city. Just saw another fancy car arrive with some silvery white haired egg layer. Going to see if I can get A LITTLE closer and check it out,’ read the message. The second message was an address.

Stan had definitely instructed Deacon and Cady to stay put so what in the hell were the pair doing scoping out the Omega house? The code word fit, so there was that. He got the notion the chick reference was to Sersei Crawford. Silvery white haired egg layer though, could that be the same grey haired broad who made him ill earlier? If it was, Deacon and Cady had both just jumped into the fire feet first. ‘Squirrel? You sure it wasn’t a raccoon? STAND DOWN!’

There was no response.