Chapter Text
Pete vividly remembered the day his mother, Pakpao, shaved her head. His father, Kukrit, spent most of his time on the mainland, demolishing his body through construction work so he could send a little money home as he simultaneously eradicated any dignity he purported to have with alcohol. Pete often overheard his Yaai and his Mae pouring over the bills late into the night, whispering when they thought Pete was asleep. He eavesdropped on them talking about his father sending home only a fraction of what he used to. The rest of his earnings seemed to be going toward casinos and booze, if not women.
His mother did what she could, washing and mending things for elderly people in their community while Yaai looked after Pete, but her body wasn’t working right anymore. She got dizzy a lot and was having trouble keeping her food down. Yaai made her stay home more, doing what she could in her daughter’s place.
Pete’s father came home at least twice a year to visit, but the last several times he visited always resulted in slammed doors and shouting. His father reeked of cheap beer and cigarettes, even though the smoke made him and his mother cough. His father always complained about how expensive Pete’s inhalers were, but he refused to smoke on the porch. He was going off on his usual tirade, about how Pete was too weak, too soft with so many women around him.
“At least I know you’re not bringing men home while I work my ass off for you and the brat,” he said, propping his feet up on their table. “Especially since you look like shit,” he added, eyeing Pakpao as he took another drag of his cigarette. “I don’t even want to fuck you, now.”
Pete’s mother quickly moved to cover Pete’s ears, but it was too late. He was old enough to know what they were talking about and it made Pete’s blood boil.
“Don’t you touch her,” he snarled, his chin barely taller than their dining table.
Kukrit moved lightning-fast, throwing his legs off the table to get to his feet. Pakpao spun Pete around, trying to shield him, but his father was determined. He managed to yank Pete out of his mother’s arms, smacking him over and over while she screamed. Pete felt partially deafened as blow after blow rained down on his head. At one point, his father closed his fist, splitting Pete’s lip and his eyebrow as Pete struggled to catch his breath.
Yaai came home, then, and threatened to call the police if he didn’t stop. Kukrit growled but tossed Pete limply onto the ground, where Pakpao rushed to pick him back up. She took Pete to his room, locking the door behind them. She was crying, her hand scrambling for his inhaler so she could shove it into his mouth. Pete wanted to cry, but he was already trying to go somewhere else in his mind. He was floating above their bodies, listening as Yaai screamed at his father. A door slammed and the house was quiet again, except for Pakpao’s sobs and Pete’s loud gasps.
Yaai knocked gently on the door as Pakpao flinched.
“He’s gone.”
Pakpao crushed Pete to her chest, throwing him back into his body, before getting up to open the door.
“Is he really gone?”
“Yes. For tonight.”
Pakpao stumbled and her hands trembled so Yaai took her to sit in her room before coming back to sit Pete down at the table so she could clean his wounds. Pete knew the routine. This wasn’t the first time his father had beaten the shit out of him. Yaai tried to distract him with a silly story while she patched him up, but Pete was getting too old for that trick to work anymore. He just sat limply, his limbs feeling like jelly as the medicine kicked in.
“I hate him,” Pete spat after Yaai dabbed ointment on his lip.
“He’s your father,” Yaai scolded without heat. But after a beat, she acknowledged, “But I hate him, too.”
A buzzing sound broke the heavy silence between them and Pete rushed to follow Yaai as they investigated. His mother was in her bathroom with his father’s electric trimmer, shaving her head.
“Pakpao,” Yaai whispered.
Without stopping, Pakpao said, “It’s going to fall out anyway. And if I’m going to be ugly, I’m going to do it my way.”
Her eyes were sharper than they had been in months, and a determined smile split her face.
Pete thought his Mae had never looked more beautiful.
After that, Pakpao took to wearing scarves, and Pete loved the pop of color they brought to her pale face. She would even let him help her pick them out, trying to match them to the few simple dresses she owned. His father didn’t return the next day, so Pete started healing while his mother tried to smile again.
One night, his father called and Yaai answered the phone. Pete could tell it was his father on the line by the clipped way that Yaai spoke.
When she hung up after a few minutes, Pakpao asked, “What did he say?”
His mother was crocheting, so Pete was sitting on the floor at her feet, balling up the yarn she would need to use next.
Yaai glanced at Pete but didn’t shoo him from the room. “He wants Pete to start boxing lessons. He said if we sign him up, he’ll double the money he’s been sending.”
“Even doubling it isn’t enough,” his Mae said. “I won’t make Pete do that.”
“It’s still not what he used to send,” Yaai agreed, “But it’ll help. We can take you to the doctor.”
They continued arguing until Pete finally stood up and said, “I’ll do it.”
“Baby, you don’t have to. I don’t want you getting hurt, even if your Pa thinks that’s how one becomes a man.”
Pete wanted to argue that he was already getting hurt but didn’t want to make them cry. Besides, there were rules in boxing, right? They wouldn’t just beat the shit out of him like his Pa did. And this way Pete could learn to fight back.
More than that, Pete knew that his Pa used to make a little money boxing. Maybe he could do the same if he got good enough and could help with the medical bills his mother was already racking up. A black eye here and there was well worth his mother’s health.
“I want to,” Pete said. He turned and went to his room before they could argue further.
The next day at school, Pete told his best friend Jom the exciting news. Jom, who was really Pete’s only friend, reacted with excitement.
“I wish I could learn to fight,” he said, “Like those cool guys on TV.”
Pete nodded, smiling. He had spent the night at Jom’s house several times, where they would stay up late and watch action movies. They would act out scenes in Jom’s room until his parents told them it was time to go to bed.
“Awww,” came a snarky voice from behind Pete’s desk. “Little gay boy going to learn to fight?”
Jom spun around, his face venomous as he confronted their bully, Tawan.
“Shut up.”
“Ignore him,” Pete whispered. The last time he had gotten jumped after school by Tawan and his little crew had upset his mother terribly, so Pete tried to avoid them.
“I thought little gay boys were too scared to fight,” Tawan continued, kicking the back of Pete’s chair. “You ran home last time. What? Did you want to kiss us instead?”
Jom rolled his eyes and spun around again. “It sounds like you’re the one with a crush, Tawan.”
Tawan’s face reddened, but their teacher came in before he could retort.
“Great,” Pete whispered. “Now he’s definitely going to kick my ass.”
Sure enough, Tawan and his crew cut Pete off on his walk home.
Pete tried to take a different route home, but they still found him.
“Where are you going, Pete?” Tawan called. “Your boyfriend’s house?”
Pete sighed. He was barely healed from his father’s last visit, so he wanted to avoid splitting his face open again if at all possible. Pete tried to slip away, but one of Tawan’s friends grabbed him, holding his arms above his head. Tawan punched Pete in the stomach, making him double over in pain. Pete tried to kick him, but Tawan jumped back before rushing back in to punch him again, this time in the chest. It knocked the wind out of Pete, leaving him heaving and gasping. Changing tactics, Pete decided to go limp while kicking back at the knees of the kid holding him. It worked and the kid dropped Pete to the ground. He rolled before they could grab him again and got to his feet. Pete was small, but he was fast. He could hear them yelling but he didn’t slow down, even after his lungs burned and he couldn’t hear them anymore. His chest hurt, though, from the punches and from his lungs heaving to try and get air. Pete needed a break to use his inhaler. Ducking into another side alley, Pete hid behind a small dumpster. He was surrounded by apartments. The area around the dumpster was littered with an old chair, a lamp, and several other discarded household items. He doubted anyone would look for him there.
After a few minutes and a few puffs of his inhaler, Pete felt like he could breathe again. He looked around at the thrown-away belongings, his curiosity overriding his fear momentarily. A particular box caught his eye so he pried the lid off. Inside were piles of dusty old books. Most of them had shirtless guys and heaving bosoms, the kind of books that Yaai liked to read, but there was another book with a black cover. In large, gilded font, it just said, “Free Fall”. Pete flipped it over, but there wasn’t an author listed on the cover. Before he could inspect it further, he heard a noise that reminded him that he was still being pursued. Tucking the book under his arm, Pete glanced both ways down the alley before hurrying home on shaky legs.
“What’s that?” Yaai asked when Pete got home.
“What?”
“Under your arm.”
“Oh,” Pete said quickly, tucking the book tighter in his arms. “Umm, book report.”
Yaai was already turned back to the stove, however, as she called, “Don’t wait until the last minute.”
“I won’t,” Pete said. “I’ll start it now.”
“What’s happening now?” Pakpao asked, catching Pete in the hallway to his room.
“I have a book report,” Pete lied. He felt a little guilty, but he wasn’t doing anything bad. He had always liked reading, like Yaai and Mae. It was one of the things his father detested about him. He said it made Pete soft. It wasn’t Pete’s fault that his lungs didn’t want him to run around as much as other children.
“Okay, go ahead and get started while I help get dinner ready. Your first boxing class is Monday. But don’t push yourself, and take a break if it’s hard to breathe. I already talked to your coach.”
“Okay.” Pete smiled at his mother as she brushed his thick hair off of his forehead to plant a quick kiss.
After dumping his light backpack on his bed, Pete set the book on his desk and went to check himself in his bathroom mirror. He could already see the bruises blooming from Tawan and his friends and sighed. At least these were easy to hide.
Pete changed out of his school uniform and picked up the book again. There was no paper cover, nor did it look like it ever had one. The pages looked worn, but overall it was in decent shape. His fingers traced over the title again before opening the book to see if there was more information inside. He saw that it was the first edition, printed in 1974. It was practically ancient. The title was printed in large script on the first page, but there was still no author that Pete could determine.
Shrugging, Pete decided to just start reading. If it was boring, he could just give it to someone else.
Within seconds, Pete was wrapped up in the mafia world and a bartender named Porsche. Right away, Pete thought Porsche was really fucking cool. He blushed a little at the scenes of Porsche having sex with countless women, but soon found himself immersed so strongly in Porsche’s financial struggles that he didn’t hear his mother open his bedroom door. Pakpao watched him with a smile on her face for a few minutes before she cleared her throat.
Pete jerked, letting out a soft gasp.
“Good book?”
Pete grinned toothily. “Yeah.”
“Okay, well dinner’s ready.”
Pete found a bookmark, but still took the book with him to the table. Yaai snorted a laugh when he missed his mouth for the third time while trying to turn the page. Porsche was getting roped into helping this mafia heir named Kinn, who had assassins following him.
Mae got up and kissed Pete’s head. “Time for you to take a bath,” she said, taking the book from him.
Pete protested, which had his mother’s eyebrows raised. Pete never talked back to her or Yaai.
“Sorry,” Pete amended quickly. “It’s really good.”
“And it’ll be here when you get out of the bath.”
Pete took the fastest bath he ever had in his life, then dressed for bed and sprinted to Mae’s room. She had been holding the book hostage, knowing that Pete would likely get distracted if he still had it.
“That was fast.”
“I wasn’t that dirty,” Pete said, bouncing on his feet.
Mae let out a twinkling laugh and handed the book over. “Alright. Don’t stay up too late.”
“Love you!” Pete yelled. He was already halfway back to his room.
Pete read until Yaai came to turn off his bedroom light. At that point, he waited a minute until the house settled and pulled out his flashlight to read under the covers. Kinn had convinced Porsche to abandon his little brother to work for him so he could pay off his uncle’s debts. Pete felt a twinge of a bond with Porsche. His father had put them in a similar position, and Pete wished he were older so he could work to help take care of Mae like Porsche was trying to take care of Chay.
At some point, Pete fell asleep, jerking awake abruptly when his alarm went off. He tucked the book carefully into his backpack and got ready for school, grabbing a piece of toast as he rushed out the door. He couldn’t wait to tell Jom about his discovery.
Before Jom arrived, however, Tawan was kicking the back of Pete’s seat again.
“Did the little gaywad get lost on the way home?”
Pete sighed, tucking the book back into his bag before Tawan could see it and take it. He pulled out a pencil instead and kept facing the front of the room. Jom slipped into his seat a minute later, concern on his face as he glanced back at Tawan before moving closer to his friend.
“Are you okay? I heard in the hall that Tawan and his gang got their hands on you after school.”
Pete winced but gave a quick nod. “Yeah. But I’m fine. I managed to get away. Hey, can I go to your house after school?”
“Sure. You know my parents love you.”
Tawan kicked his chair again, angry at being ignored, but the teacher arrived so Pete could try and focus, except he was too busy thinking about Porsche and what would happen to him next as Kinn’s bodyguard.
As soon as the bell rang, Pete and Jom rushed off to Jom’s house, where Pete called his house to leave a message, letting them know where he was.
“So what is it you wanted to show me?” Jom asked.
Pete’s face lit up as he pulled the book out of his backpack. “Okay, so Tawan was chasing me, right? So I hid in this alley, where I found this book.”
“Like in the trash?”
Anger rippled through Pete for just a moment before it vanished again. Jom hadn’t been calling the book trash. He had just found it in the trash.
“It was in a box, but someone had thrown it away, yes.”
Jom’s nose crinkled. “And you just took it?”
Pete rolled his eyes. “Clearly, they didn’t want it anymore. And I don’t know, it just caught my attention.”
“So what’s it about?”
Pete took a deep breath and began gushing to Jom about Porsche and his brother Chay and Hum Bar. He told him about Kinn and his cool bodyguards in their matching suits. He told him about Kinn’s brothers and his dad who scared Pete a little, if he were honest.
“Sounds cool,” Jom finally said when Pete ran out of plot.
“Cool?” Pete scoffed. “Cool? Jom, it’s fucking amazing.”
Jom laughed. “I mean, yeah. It sounds really cool. Badass.”
“It’s the best. And I’m going to start boxing on Monday so I can learn how to fight like Porsche.”
Jom nodded. “That’s not a bad idea. Maybe you’ll get strong enough to scare Tawan away.” Jom squeezed Pete’s thin arm and laughed.
“You should learn, too,” Pete suggested. Truly, he was nervous to go alone. At least if Jom signed up, Pete wouldn’t feel awkward.
“I would but I’m starting drumming lessons.”
“Really? That’s really cool!” Pete said, sitting down. Jom had been saying he wanted to be a drummer for a few years.
“Yeah. I’m excited my parents finally said I could.”
“Pete?” Jom’s mother poked her head in the open doorway. Her face looked serious as she said, “Your grandma called. Your mom collapsed, so they’re at the hospital. I’ll take you over there.”
Pete blanched as Jom touched his shoulder. Together, they gathered Pete’s things and got in the back of the car so Jom’s mother could take Pete to the local hospital.
Yaai met them at the front door, talking with Jom’s mother briefly before leading Pete inside.
“They are running some tests now,” Yaai said in a quiet voice. “Let’s just stay quiet and see what the doctor has to say.”
Pete nodded, clutching his backpack tighter against his chest. His mother was alert, looking sheepish when Yaai and Pete entered her room. The doctor was still talking to her, so Pete waited. His foot slapped against the squeaky, cold linoleum while he tried to be patient.
“Why don’t you read your book,” Pakpao said gently after the doctor left the room. “It’ll be a little while before they know anything.”
Pete set his backpack down and stood next to the bed, instead, taking Mae's hand in his. She aligned their fingers together, showing Pete that their hands were about the same size.
“When are you going to hit your big growth spurt, baby?” she asked.
Pete shrugged. He sometimes wondered that himself. It was part of the reason he always got picked on. Jom was already almost a full foot taller than him. Tawan also liked to tease him for his softer features. He resembled his mother, with her bow-shaped lips and upturned nose. He was soft. Being smaller than the other boys in class just made it more obvious.
“Does anything hurt?” Pete asked.
“I’m okay. I just got dizzy.” Mae smiled at him, brushing his hair off his forehead. “Now, tell me about that book you can’t keep your nose out of.”
So Pete did. He left out the parts about Porsche hooking up with his customers but told her about the rest.
“Kinn and Porsche, huh?” Pakpao said slowly, thinking. “Mae, wasn’t that a show?”
Yaai looked up from her knitting and frowned as she thought. “Yes! You used to watch it when you were younger.”
“Really?” Pete asked, louder than he meant. Adjusting his volume, he asked, “They made this into a show?”
“Yeah,” Pakpao said. “I’m certain of it. There was Kinn, the handsome mafia heir, and Porsche, the cool bartender who became his bodyguard. Oh, but Vegas was my favorite.”
“Vegas?”
Pete furrowed his brow. He hadn’t gotten that far in the book yet. “Who’s Vegas?”
“Bad news,” Yaai said. “Your mother always did like the bad boys.”
Mae gave a laugh but her eyes darkened, looking far away as she muttered, “I guess there’s no accounting for taste.”
Pete wanted to distract her again, so he ran to get the book out of his bag. “I haven’t gotten to him yet.”
Mae moved over in the hospital bed as much as she could so Pete could climb in next to her as Yaai warned him to be careful. Wrapped in Mae’s arms, Pete found his place and kept reading while they waited for the doctor. His mother stroked his hair, brushing it away from his forehead like she liked to do. Soon, the beeping of the hospital machinery was replaced in Pete’s mind by the sound of gunfire as Porsche and Kinn were in a standoff outside of a house. The man owed Kinn money and hadn’t paid, so the bodyguards beat him up, but when they tried to leave, the man tried to shoot Kinn. Porsche, the brave guy that he was, took a bullet to the arm for his boss.
“I feel kind of bad for that guy,” Pete admitted. “He should have just paid him back. Or he should have just kept quiet. He tried to fight back and now he’s dead and Porsche is injured.”
Pakpao hummed, tightening her arms around Pete. “Yeah, Porsche and Kinn aren’t really good guys.”
“Are they bad?”
“It’s more complicated than that,” Mae said. “Everyone has a little bit of both in them.”
“Not Pa,” Pete spat. “He’s bad.”
Mae didn’t respond right away, so Pete turned to look at her.
Carefully, she said, “He wasn’t always bad. But yes, he does bad things. I’m sorry, Pete. I wish I had given you a better Pa.”
Pete didn’t like the vacant look in his mother’s eyes, so he leaned closer, whispering, “But I have the best Mae.”
The doctor came back, then, and went over the results of their tests. They recommended she see a specialist, and she was cleared to go home.
After that day, though, Pakpao seemed to spend more time in a hospital than out of one. They ran test after test. Pete started his boxing lessons, which were three times a week and offered a decent distraction. The best thing he had found, still, was Free Fall . He had less time to read, since he had to help Mae and Yaai around the house much more, he had lots of schoolwork, and boxing lessons were eating into his time. Still, he managed to find the time to get to the infamous Vegas.
He was Kinn’s cousin and evil incarnate. Pete was obsessed.
Pete began scouring the internet looking for any information about the television series Kinn and Porsche . He would question his mom for any and all information she had about it until Yaai told him to let her rest. Mae needed a lot more rest than before.
Still, Pete didn’t give up. He wanted to find the show so he could watch it with his mother. He would tell her about his favorite scenes in the book, and she would tell him how she remembered them going in the show. Most of the time it was pretty similar.
Pete’s father came to his first boxing match, which had Pete so nervous that he performed much more poorly than he would have otherwise. His father hit him that night and he had to miss practice and school for the remainder of the week. Once the swelling went down in Pete’s eye so he could see well enough, he was back to searching the internet and reading Free Fall .
He got to a scene where Vegas tricked and kidnapped Porsche, and Pete was entranced with how skillfully Vegas picked Porsche apart, mentally and physically. The book mentioned how Vegas touched Porsche. Pete had to read the paragraph three times but kept coming to the same conclusion. The way Vegas touched Porsche seemed almost sexual. That night, Pete had his first wet dream.
“Mae?” Pete asked his mother a few weeks later. He hadn’t been able to move on from that torture scene, reading it again and again, but only late at night.
“Yes, baby?”
“Do you think something is wrong with me?”
Pakpao turned to look at her son carefully. “Why would you think that?”
“Because Porsche is supposed to be the hero, but I think Vegas is my favorite character.”
A laugh burst from Mae’s chest, which sent her into a coughing fit. Pete rushed to get her a glass of water as he apologized reflexively. She took a sip, calming herself before reaching out to brush his bangs away from his face.
“Of course, you are thinking about your book,” Mae said, smiling. “But to answer your question, no, I don’t think there is anything wrong with you. Or if there is, there is something wrong with me, too. Because Vegas was always my favorite character.”
Pete hummed thoughtfully, decidedly not sharing that his interest in Vegas had shifted into more personal (and more sensual) territory. Pete dreamed about the adventures in his book. But most nights his dreams were full of Vegas. Only, Pete wasn’t sure they were all nightmares.
Pete ran to his mother’s room one day when he finally got a response on a message board. “Mae, someone else remembers Kinn and Porsche ! They said there was a show, but the show was never finished. They shared a photo of a news article saying there was a tragic accident on set and everyone is gone. So that’s why the company decided to air the episodes they had completed, but they never finished it.”
“That’s horrible!” Mae said. “Now that you say that, I remember thinking the series ended rather abruptly. I was expecting more.”
Pete nodded. “I’m almost at the end of the book.”
“This is taking you a while. I thought you had a book report due on it.”
Pete blushed. “Umm… yeah. I didn’t. But I just love this book so much! I get nervous when Porsche or his brother are in danger, so I just keep going back to read my favorite parts until I’m ready to move forward.”
Mae smiled at him. “I’m so happy you found something you love so much. Just like me.”
“Yeah, I know you love the show.”
“No, silly,” Mae said. “You. I love you most.”
“Oh,” Pete said. He felt a little silly, but Mae was still smiling at him.
“Seeing you so happy makes me feel so alive, Pete. I hope you feel like this forever.”
Pete grinned. He really did love it. Jom less enthusiastically shared his interest, although Pete suspected that was more for the sake of their friendship. Still, he appreciated it.
Pete sat with his mother for a few more minutes and talked until her eyes closed.
“Pete,” Yaai called gently from the doorway. “Let her sleep.”
Pete nodded, letting go of Mae’s hand to get ready for bed.
Pete had been boxing for months, and so far he had lost every single competition. His asthma had been improving along with his stamina, but Pete was frustrated. He was never going to make any money boxing at this rate. Finally, unexpectedly, Pete did it. He won.
He jumped up and down on his way home to show Mae and Yaai his medal.
“I did it!” Pete yelled as he ran through the door. “I won! Just like Porsche! Mae, I won!”
Pete rounded the corner to find his father looming in the kitchen while Mae and Yaai sat at the table. There was paperwork spread out in front of them, and it looked like Yaai was on the verge of tears. His father, however, looked furious.
“How are you raising this brat that he comes in the house screaming so loud?” Kukrit yelled.
“No,” Pete whimpered. “I’m sorry, Pa, I didn’t-”
“He doesn’t,” Yaai said. “He’s just excited because he won for the first time.”
Pete’s lip began to quiver, met as he was with his father’s brewing animosity.
“You won?” his Pa asked. “For the first time?”
Pete didn’t trust his own voice, so he silently held out the medal he had earned. It was cheap plastic, but it was everything to Pete.
“You think you can do whatever you want, just because you got handed a piece of trash not worth a stick of gum?”
Yaai got to her feet as Mae yelled, “Kukrit! Do not speak to our son like that! He’s just a boy!”
His Pa turned as he smirked. Derisively, he said, “He’s a champion. That means he’s a man now.”
Pete’s father grabbed him by his collar and dragged him into his bedroom, slamming the door and locking it before Yaai or Mae could get in. Pete tried to use his training to block the blows raining down on him, but he was too scared. His body froze up like it always did. When Pete was lying on the floor, crying, his father looked around his room.
“They’re raising you to be a woman.”
He sneered at the artwork on Pete’s walls, which was mostly flowers he had painted with Mae because he thought they were pretty. Then his father took in the stack of books next to his bed.
“Wasting your time filling your brain with nonsense, just like them, when you should be out working and building your muscles like a man. You’re weak! You’ve always been weak.”
His father reached for his books and Pete knew that Free Fall was on the top of the stack. He screamed as his father ripped the book right down the spine, scattering pages about the room.
“Motherfucker!” Pete screamed as the rage that had welled within him for years bubbled to the surface. He ran at his father, ducking low to try and knock him off balance, but there wasn’t enough weight on Pete’s small body to move him much. He could hear Mae and Yaai yelling and banging against the door. Sirens soon joined the racket and moments later Pete’s door was kicked in as two police officers dragged his father away in handcuffs.
Pete cried as he hurried around the room, collecting the pages of his book before they could get trampled. He was less concerned with the cops. They had been to the house before. His father always came back.
When things finally quieted and Pakpao had given her statement, she found Pete still crying in his room, clutching the ripped pages and tattered cover to his chest.
“Baby,” Mae called, reaching her arms out.
“He ruined it,” Pete wailed. “He ruined my book. I didn’t even finish it yet.”
“Let me see,” Mae said softly, reaching with gentle hands to take the paper and ink carcass from Pete. “I can fix it.”
“Can you?” Pete stopped crying as he looked at his angel of a mother with wide eyes.
Mae nodded. “I’ll do my best.”
Together, they sat at the dining table with Yaai, carefully putting the pages in the right order so they could mend the carnage. Yaai fetched the tape, and Mae helped Pete carefully tape each ripped page back together. Luckily, there weren’t many that were ripped. Most of the damage was to the spine. Mae taped the spine back together with heavy-duty tape and carefully reconnected the pages so Pete could still open and read the book.
When she was done, she leaned back to survey her work.
“It’s not perfect, but I think it’ll work.”
Pete let out a grateful sob as he threw his arms around his mother. “Thank you, Mae. It’s perfect.”
That night, Pete slept in his mother’s bed, reading his book until his eyes couldn’t stay open. The next day, the police showed up to tell them Pete’s Pa had gone back to the city for now with a warning. Yaai shut the door and began banging pots and pans around the kitchen while Mae crocheted silently in her room.
Pete went to his room to read since it wasn’t a school day and he was still bruised. After an hour, they heard Pete cry, “No! This is bullshit!”
Mae glanced at Yaai, who shrugged before they both hurried to Pete’s room to see what had upset him.
They found Pete standing on his bed with tears shimmering in his eyes.
“What happened, Pete?”
“Vegas, Mae! They killed Vegas!”
“What?” Mae said, hurrying to sit with Pete on his bed so he could show her the page he was on. “That didn’t happen in the show!”
“They never finished the show, remember?”
“You’re right,” Mae said, pulling Pete into her arms. “I’m so sorry, baby. I know he was your favorite character.”
Pete set the book aside. He felt ridiculous, being that upset by the death of a fictional character written way before he was alive, but he had grown attached, and the attachment was real to him. Pete felt like things couldn’t get any worse.
However, three weeks later, the ambulance came to get Mae. Yaai followed it with Pete in the car while he asked question after question.
“I thought she was getting better. Is she sick again?” Pete didn’t understand.
Yaai parked the car, but before they hurried into the hospital she turned to take Pete’s hands in hers. Her eyes filled with tears as she said, “Pete, there’s something we haven’t told you. We didn’t want you to worry. But your mother is very sick. She has cancer.”
Pete’s mouth went dry. “What? Since when?”
“She’s had it for a while now. She went through treatments, which were painful, but we thought we had gotten it all. But it came back a few months ago even stronger and the doctors said she didn’t have long to live.”
Pete bit his lips, trying to stop the tears filling his eyes. “No. Why didn’t you tell me?”
“We didn’t want to stress you until we couldn’t avoid it anymore. I’m so sorry, baby. I’m so sorry.”
Yaai cried as she pulled a wailing Pete to her, holding him close.
“Can I see her?” Pete asked.
“Let’s go inside,” Yaai said. “We’ll talk to the doctor.”
They had stabilized Mae by the time Pete got to see her. She looked tired and pale. Her eyes could barely focus because of whatever drugs they gave her.
“Mae!” Pete sobbed. He threw himself across her midsection as she tried to smile at him. Reaching out a hand, she brushed the hair off of his forehead.
“I’m sorry, baby,” Mae said. “I’m so sorry, my Pete. I tried to stay with you as long as I could. It’s just so hard.”
Pete closed his eyes for a moment before forcing them open again. He wanted to look at Mae for as long as he could. “Does it hurt?”
After a moment, a tear rolled down Mae’s cheek as she nodded.
“I’m sorry we never got to watch that show together. That would have been fun. Promise me you’ll watch it one day. For me.”
“I will,” Pete said quickly. He was willing to promise her anything at that moment. “I’ll find it and I’ll watch it.”
“I know you will,” Mae said. “You’re always dedicated to whatever you set your heart to. Just like you won your match. You always work hard, even when it’s not easy. You’re such a good boy, Pete. I’m so lucky I was able to be your mom. That’s what I’m most proud of.”
“I love you,” Pete cried, “I love you so much, Mae.”
“I love you, too, Pete.”
Pete held on to his mother until he cried himself to sleep. Yaai sat with her daughter and talked about the final things they needed to discuss.
A few days later, Mae was gone. Pete stayed with Jom and his family for a week so Yaai could handle everything else without worrying about him.
Pete’s father didn’t even show up for the funeral.