Danny had dug the hole- ankle deep and covered in leaves- the day before, when he was setting booby traps for his little brother. It was, he thought, his own stupid fault. Running his tongue over his lips, he could taste blood and grass.
"Just go! Save yourself," he choked on the sob that was rising in his throat. "No reason for us both to get whipped." He tried to push himself up, but his sprained wrist gave way beneath him, slamming his chin into the ground again. He bit his tongue.
"No!" Mike screamed and turned back towards his older brother. He looked down at the Pop-tart on the ground between them. It must have flown out of Danny's hand when he fell.
The bus's brakes squealed. Both boys blinked away tears and turned towards the yellow beast as it slowly rolled down the street, spitting diesel fumes angrily.
"She'll kill you for sure this time," Mike said, wiping his nose on his sleeve. "Momma said the next time we miss the bus, we're a goner."
"I," Danny swallowed blood, "don't care."
The bus screeched. The doors opened half-way, hesitated, then swung open.
They had 10 seconds to get to the bus.
"I love you, buddy." Mike said and turned on his heel.
"Wait! You're leaving me? For real? Leave no man behind! Ever! Don't you remember anything daddy taught us?" Danny screamed at his brother's back.
Mike shrugged without turning around and disappeared behind the bus.
"I hate you! You're a no good coward. Just like Daddy!"
Five, four, three, two...the doors swung shut. The bus spit smoke and turned the corner just as Danny heard his mother's heavy steps on the front porch.
He didn't look up as she walked towards him. He focused on her bare feet sinking into the grass inches in front of his face. She lifted him up by his backpack straps and carried him towards the house, swinging him like a sack of groceries.
Danny spit blood and closed his eyes, the front door slamming shut behind them.
