"I think someone's 'tealing our birds."
Joey was a lazy child. Their mother had said that among the three boys she pushed out on the barn floor, Joey was the laziest. He was the child who caught the flu at 7 days old and was too weak to fight it, she did the fighting for him, having to travel long distances on a bicycle to get him treated at a hospital. He was the child who wouldn't grow any teeth till he was almost three years old. Now whenever he spoke, he fought with his teeth, causing the letters like 's' to be pronounced as 'z'. Andrew hated it whenever he spoke.
Papa, the calm-headed man who only had words to say when they were important had only looked up at Joey, wiped the corners of his mouth, and rose to wash his hands. Andrew knew Papa wasn't proud of Joey even if he never said anything bad about him, Mama said so.
When Mama returned with the pie, Andrew could see her eyes dart to and fro the room, resting briefly on the chair Papa had just risen from before gazing at the door to the room they both shared. She dropped the pie, made to move over to the room, then turned again to the two boys.
"Where's your Papa?" She wasn't referring to anyone in particular, but Andrew was one who always had a ready response at his lips.
"He left after Joey said someone's stealing our birds."
Mama's eyes collided with Joey's. She shook her head in that "I'm disappointed in you" manner then stormed out to fetch Papa. She couldn't make him come back to the table.
That night after dinner, Andrew saw that Joey rose just after Papa and did his lazy walk after him. He stretched his head this way and that but couldn't see where they were heading so he pushed the iron chair creating a shrill, scraping noise, and made to follow after them but Mama walked in and without commenting on the two missing heads at the table, chided him to sit back down and finish his food.
When the lights were out and he was sure everyone was curled up in their straw beds with Mama's knitted blankets over their heads, Andrew pulled a sweater over his head, tiptoeing to get the small flashlight Mark had left him before packing up for Oxford and making his way through the small bedroom he had been given because he complained a year ago that Joey's snore kept him awake half of the night.
Andrew hated the insects, they must have been so creepy to decide they would gist only at night, causing a nuisance where people should be asleep. As he made his way to the barn, he reflected on what Joey had asked him the morning before.
"What if someone's stealing our birds? When I checked for Danny's chick boy, he was gone."
Andrew had made his usual snickering sounds and ugly faces at Joey, if he didn't despise his older brother for anything, he despised him for giving human names to all the chicks they ever had.
He wasn't sure but he thought he heard voices in the barn, he quickened his footsteps, careful not to turn his torchlight on until he was at the door. The door flung open before he touched it bringing a sharp sting to his jaw as a pair of big palms collided with them and then dragged at his sweater.
"How dare you Andrew, how dare you betray this family!"
It was Papa, with Joey lurking somewhere behind him. After two rounds of smacking from both Papa and Mama, Andrew was allowed to the table at dinnertime for his first meal. Joey was silent as usual, picking at his food and throwing out the onions, Mama did not chide him, and Papa did not leave the table.
"How'd you know t'was your brother selling them chickens?"
Mama found the courage to ask when the tension in the air seemed more palpable than the four of them. Andrew watched Joey lift his shoulders and then drop them again.
"My intuition told me, heard him rise every night and in the morning, one chick would go missing. Saw him give a new watch to that girl opposite the farm. Wasn't sure so I told Papa then he came to take a look himself."
Andrew darted his eyes to the ground when Mama's eyes came to his. This time, it was her leaving the table.