loz: (due South (Ray V alone))
[personal profile] loz posting in [community profile] ds_flashfiction
Title: It Deepens Like A Coastal Shelf
Author: Loz ([livejournal.com profile] lozenger8)
Word Count: Approximately 870 words.
Rating: PG
Notes/Summary: The title is a line from Philip Larkin's This Be The Verse. A young Ray Vecchio is given one in a long line of lessons by his father.



Ray hid under the bed, covered in Mama’s patchwork quilt. As he heard heavy footsteps sounding on hardwood floors he told himself that this time he’d be okay. He was safe here, tucked up in red, white and blue. A celebration of America, land of the free. He was protected, under the springs, with a sheet as a shelter, and the light turned off.

Ray listened to the sound of inhale and exhale in this tight enclosed space of liberty. It sped up and grew louder. Slowed down and felt deeper. He tried to hold his breath, he was breathing so loud. Silence for a moment and then a noise like a vaccuum. He couldn’t stop. Would Pop hear, down in the hallway, yelling for dinner at 10 at night?

Loud thumps on the staircase. Another yell.

“Where is it? Your precious Raimundo again? Stinking little thief!”

Ray curled tighter.

“Was him, wasn’t it? He took it. The white ball. I need it to play, Carlina. I wanna play.”

He could hear his mother’s voice return a phrase or a word from below. He wasn’t sure what she said, but she sounded upset.

“I’ll teach him a lesson.”

Ray held his breath again, squeezing his eyes shut tighter than ever before.

The door flew open and the young boy could imagine the scene. A dark shape looming in the doorway. A menace and a threat. His father was not a large man by any means, but stood as a silhouette framed in light, he was the only other person in the world.

There was no further sound. Ray couldn’t hold his breath any longer. He gasped for air.

“So, you are here, ya runt.”

Another wheeze.

“You think I can’t see you? Think I’m thick in the head, right, kid? Hiding under there is gonna make everything better? Haven’t I taught you anything? You wanna be hit harder? I lost a lot of money tonight, kiddo, the guys at Finelli’s laughed their asses off. I come home and my ball’s missing. Mercy? Not coming unless you do something worth its weight. Get out. Get out from under that bed and take your punishment like a man.”

Ray was caught between movement and inaction. Should he stay and hope Pop would give up and forget? Move and hope he’d take Ray’s bravery as a medal of honour? His leg twitched suddenly, as if making the decision for him. Ray rolled out from under the cover, out from under the bed. He stood up before his father. He could see the outline of his school ruler held in a hand. It must have been taken from the table where Ray’d been doing his math homework, waiting for Pop to come back and help.

“God, you’re stupid. Piece of shit, d’you know that? Haven’t I taught you anything? Look out for number one. I threaten you and you come? You get up? You have pasta up there in that head of yours? Yeah, you roll out. I need to give you some more lessons, huh?”

Ray tried not to cry, but he could feel the persistent stinging at the back of his throat. He didn’t move as his father sat on his bed and slung him over his knees.

Thwack.

“You’re worthless.”

Thwack.

“Never amount to anything.”

Thwack.

“You’re gonna be the gum on…”

Thwack.

“…Zuko junior’s shoe.”

Thwack.

“You’re a disgrace to the name of Vecchio…”

Thwack.

“…and that’s all you’ll ever be.”

Thwack. Thwack. Thwack.

Ray wasn’t even thinking about the stinging of his throat now. All he could feel was the back of his legs, the sharp piercing heat that shot through his entire body. He was roughly pushed to the side. He tried to stand up but he couldn’t think straight. His knees buckled and he fell to the floor.

“If you ever take my ball again, you won’t be able to sit down for a week.”

The boy couldn’t sit down now. He lay on his stomach, on the floor, trying to breathe properly and only managing to choke. Harsh wracking sobs convulsed his entire body. His chest ached, his legs ached, his head was pounding. He heard his father thud away, and tried to calm down.

“I’m still hungry, Carlina, you better be making something.”

Ray promised himself that next time, he’d find a better place to hide. He’d do exactly what Pop told him to do. He’d look out for number one. Even if he was threatened with being hit harder, he wouldn’t move. He wouldn’t go out of his way to get punished for something that he had no idea about in the first place. He’d show his Pop. He wasn’t worthless. He was worth something. He just wasn’t sure what.

Ray didn’t think he had the strength to get up onto the mattress, so he slid his body gently underneath the bed again and made sure the quilt was comfortable on his back, enough to keep him warm but not to make his legs hurt anymore than they already did. But this time he wasn’t even under the illusion he was safe tucked up in red, white and blue. Ray knew. He’d never be safe.

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