The day after Christmas Ike peered into his brothers room before making the trip downstairs to talk to him. It was just out of habit. Taylor rarely slept past dawn but they’d had a wild Christmas day celebration the day before. Mackie and Avie had awakened everyone long before daybreak and they had been so excited that no one had the heart to make them go back to bed until a more appropriate hour. So they had gotten dressed and began their celebrations. First was the present opening which was a wild hour with paper flying and squeals and awe’s of appreciation. Then they had taken the time for a long leisurely breakfast. Church services had been next on the agenda and on the way home had stopped at two different sets of grand parents houses to share and celebrate their Christmas day with them. Then the family had finally returned home much to the relief of the younger children who couldn’t wait to play with their new toys. Overall it had been a great day, exhausting and filled with family fun. 

Ike was surprised to find a lump in his brothers bed. "Hey, Tay!"

Taylor shot up out of his bed like he’d been hit with an electrical shock. "What?" he demanded.

"Jeez, will you relax," Ike said laughing. "I just wanted to know if you wanted to go with me this morning. We’re going down to the old airport strip to watch them practice drag races this morning."

"Can’t," Taylor explained. "I’m going to the services for Arleen this morning."

"I forgot," Ike mumbled. "If you want me to come with you, I will. It will only take me a minute to make a few phone calls and get dressed."

"Naw, Mom’s taking me," Taylor mumbled burying his head back into his pillow.

"Hey, how come you’re still asleep?" Ike asked.

"Cause I was up until three-thirty writing a song," Taylor grumbled. "Now will you go away!"

Ike opened his mouth to ask about the song, but instead changed his mind. This was an unusual reversal of roles. Taylor was usually the wide awake one, trying to penetrate his sleep stupor. "See you later, we’re going to take the motor bikes out sometime around one and then we promised the kids we’d take them to a movie."

Taylor grunted and covered his head with his pillow.

* * * *

Taylor combed his hair back as neatly as he could and pulled it into a tail. He barely recognized himself in a medium gray suit but he figured it was appropriate for a funeral service.

"Hey, Tay!" Zac burst into his bedroom in an comical disarray of clothing. He was wearing a brown suit, or at least he was attempting to get dressed, he hadn’t quite made it yet. His pants were unzipped and his shirt was hanging out untucked and he was trailing a tie from his hand. "Tay, I can’t figure this thing out. It’s a torture device. They just claim it’s a piece of clothing. It’s a conspiracy!"

"Zac, you don’t have to go. You only met Arleen for a few minutes."

"You didn’t know her for much longer, besides I’m not going for her. Although that kind of sounds terrible," Zac said squinting his eyes and looking at his brother. "I’m going for you. You know, brotherly support and all that stuff."

"Thanks, Zac," Taylor said taking the tie out of his hand. "But, you don’t have to do that. Mom’s going with me."

"Are you sure?" Zac asked.

"Yeah,"

"Good, cause I’ve never been to a funeral before, and I think it’s weird to stand around looking at a dead person. Ugh, I mean... Sorry, I didn’t...."

"It’s okay," Taylor nodded. "I’ve only been to one myself and that was Grandma’s. They left you and the younger kids home with a sitter. I thought it was kind weird too, but it’s supposed to help with closure. You know, help you say good-bye."

"You sure you don’t want me go with you?" Zac asked seriously willing to go.

"Yeah, I’m sure. It’s not like it’s a real funeral or anything. This is just service. I think there will just be some preaching or something."

"Thanks, Tay," Zac dropped his pants and stepped out of them and gave them a kick that sent them flying across the room, through the doorway and into his room. In the next instant he pulled his shirt and suitcoat off in one gigantic tug over his head which left his standing in his boxer shorts and socks, but he was happily out of what he called is ‘suit of torture’.

Taylor watched his brother with an amused shake of his head and then he finished getting dressed himself. Just before he was ready to meet his mother to leave he entered his brothers room. Stepping over a large Lego structure he accidentally stepped on something with wheels that almost made him lose his balance. "Zac, are you ever going to clean up this mess!"

Zac was lying on his bed with his feet propped straight up against the wall, which landed right in the middle of a poster already plugged into a portable CD. "It’s not my mess! I cleaned up my stuff. This is all Mackie’s and Avie’s. They keep messing it up building stuff and playing and Mom keeps telling me to clean it up." Zac complained. "What’cha want?"

"Just wanted to say thanks again, for offering," Taylor said picking his way across the room to the doorway. "You’d better get that suit unwadded and hung up before Mom see’s it."

"Whatever," Zac said with pretended boredom in his voice.

Taylor knew his brother well enough to know his show of indifference was fake. Of all them, except for Jessica Zac was the most sentimental. He was the most observent one always noticing things that he and Ike totally missed. But, Zac didn’t like people to know that he was sentimental so he covered it up with loud bravado. 

"Zac?"

"Yeah?"

"Next time you have an ‘e-pitshany’ would you try to bottle some of it," Taylor said.

"Ugh, why?" Zac asked totally confused.

"So I can sprinkle some of it over you when you start acting like an butt-head again. I swear one minute you’re acting like a real decent guy and next you revert back to weird again." Taylor complained.

"I’m a teenager now, I’m supposed to be moody," Zac suggested with a cheeky grin. "Besides, I’ve been putting up with you and Ike for years. I learned moody from you."

"You probably did," Taylor agreed as he went out the door. At the top of the stairs he mumbled. "But that doesn’t mean we won’t knock you back on your butt for it."

"I heard that!" Zac shouted from his bedroom. "You and what army!"

* * * *

The drive to Millsville seemed long, tedious and quiet. Diana hadn’t offered to let Taylor drive, and he was content to just watch the country side scenery flow by as he sat plugged into his CD headset. When Diana finally pulled into a parking lot he pulled off his headset and laid it back on the backseat. Even though they were not going to a full funeral the services were being held in a chapel of a funeral home. Diana straightened her dress and then she straightened her son’s tie gently.

"Are you going to be all right?" she asked concern making her voice tremble slightly.

Taylor nodded and then he looked around his surroundings. The funeral home was located along a strip of highway that ran directly through the small town. There were small strip malls on both sides of the building. There was a small flower shop located almost beside the funeral home.

"Mom, do we have time to go in there and pick up some flowers?" 

Diana checked her watch. "If we hurry."

Entering the flower shop, Diana was able to immediately pick out an arrangement of flowers that she considered appropriate. Because of its close proximity to the funeral home the shop had several arrangements already made up and waiting for last minute needs. While Diana paid for the arrangement Taylor wandered around the small store. Looking inside a refrigerated case he noticed several small arrangements encased in plastic boxes. He took one out of the case and carried it up to the counter.

"Honey, that’s a wrist corsage," Diana explained a little confused when she saw his selection.

"I know what it is Mom," Taylor answered without offering an explanation.

As they entered the funeral home they were directed into a small room where there was a table set up with a large picture of Arleen sitting on an easel. Behind the large picture was a large screen and it was covered with other pictures. Pictures of Arleen when she was younger as a happy healthy baby. Then as a toddler. The pictures were a chronological history displaying a happy child. She had been a chubby baby, and then a pretty little girl with a shocking head of red hair. Then the pictures showed that she was starting to get thinner and thinner although she always had a smile on her face. 

Taylor leaned over the table looking at the pictures and he was tapped on the shoulder by Nurse Sullivan.

"Hi. I glad to see you here," Nurse Sullivan offered her hand to Mrs. Hanson and she gave Taylor a slight squeeze on his arm as reassurance. 

Nurse Sullivan reintroduced Taylor and his mother to Arleens parents and sister who were standing at the end of the table greeting everyone. 

"I know this young man," Arleen’s mother exclaimed clasping his hand tightly. "Thank you being a friend to my daughter. I know you didn’t spend very much time with her, but it meant a lot to her."

"Arleen was nice," Taylor said a little embarrassed. "I liked the way she argued with me. She didn’t act all silly and stuff."

"Well, it meant a lot to her knowing you were a big star and you still took the time to talk to her," Arleens’ father insisted.

"What’s that in your hand?" Arleen’s mother asked noticing the plastic box he was carrying.

"Uh," Taylor stuttered realizing that an impulse buy on his part may not be understood by another else. Arleens mother was watching him with a quizzical look so he took a deep breath. "Arleen told me that what bothered her the most about die... uh, well what bothered her the most, was not being to do things, missing opportunities. Like doing the dishes and putting the Christmas lights on the tree and she said she was going to miss going to the prom. I throught, uh, since she couldn’t go to the prom, she should at least have a corsage. Dumb idea, I know... I’m sorry..."

"No," Arleen’s mother exclaimed taking the plastic box out of his hand and looking at it with tears in her eyes. "If you don’t mind, I’d like to put this on her wrist. It was a lovely idea," the woman’s voice broke and her eyes spilled over with tears.

"I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have..." Taylor stuttered.

"It’s fine," Arleens father said as his wife tried to compose herself. 

"Honey, it’s time to go in the chapel," Diana suggested and she led Taylor away and they found seats in a small chapel area that was filling up rapidly.

* * * *

"Zac!" Ike growled over his shoulder at his younger brother. "If I have to tell you to leave Dad’s bike alone again, I’m going to cream you!" They were both outside the shed where they stored their motor bikes. Ike had brought all their bikes outside and parked them on the gravel while he went over them doing a safety check while waiting for their Dad and Taylor to show up.

"I can handle Dad’s bike," Zac protested. "I don’t see why Mom and Dad only gave me a 250, I can handle a 300 at least!"

"I can’t believe they gave you another bike for Christmas, after you trashed your other one. Besides, Tay and I both have 250’s. That’s plenty of power."

"But I’m better at riding than either of you guys. Are you ever gonna finish? I want to go riding!"

"Shut up," Ike complained stooping over his bike and trying to tighten a bolt.

Zac looked over his shoulder and he could see that Ike wasn’t paying him any attention. He straddled his father motor bike and in his imagination he could see himself riding it. Looking back over his shoulder one more time, Zac jammed his foot down on the starter pedal and the bike roared and jerked in response. Zac vaguely heard Ike yelling at him but all he could do was try to hang on because he hadn’t expected the bike to start on the first kick and he was thrown off balance. 

Ike jerked around when he heard the bike start and all he could do was yell when he saw his father’s bike leap forward. For the first second it looked like Zac was going to hang on but on the second it was clear that he wasn’t in control. He lost his balance and within a fraction of time he was dragged across the gravel. Zac let go and the bike shot forward for another thirty feet before falling over into the grass.

"Zac!" Ike ran to his brother who was lying facedown in the gravel. "Don’t move!"

"Oh, Ike it hurts," Zac cried as he rolled over flat on his back.

"I said don’t move," Ike snapped. "You may have broken something really bad."

Zac wiggled his arms and legs and back and he shook his head. "Nope, nothing hurts like it’s broken." He sat up suddenly.

"Zac! Why don’t you listen?" Ike snarled.

Zac ignored his brother and he pulled at the jean material at his knees that now sporting new holes and seeping with blood. "I think I messed up my knees. They hurt!"

"Okay, I’ll help you into the house then," Ike exclaimed helping his brother to his feet. 

"Turn off Dad’s bike, Ike," Zac exclaimed as he wiped the tears off his face onto his coat sleeve. 

Ike ran over to the bike, hit the switch, but left it where it lie and ran back to his brother. Zac was walking very gingerly and he was bleeding from a scrape under his chin. When Ike got inside the kitchen door he let out a bellow for his father.

Ike set his brother down in a kitchen chair and started peeling his clothing off him. When Zac was down to his shorts and socks he started assessing the damage. 

"Ike what’s all the yelling... Zac! What happened?" Walker demanded as he entered the kitchen as saw blood streaming down his son legs. 

"I think, it’s just scrapes Dad," Ike suggested wetting a dish towel at the sink and beginning to dab it at the scrapes on Zac’s knees.

"Ike, go get the peroxide, alcohol and bandages from the medicine cabinet," Walker ordered.

The next twenty minutes were spent assessing Zac’s various scrapes while he howled and complained every time they touched anything that was bleeding and that was a good portion of his legs and other parts. His knees and shins were scraped as were his elbows and a round spot underneath his chin. Walker and Ike cleaned all the scrapes. Only one scrape was deep enough to require a bandage. Walker very carefully had his son bend every single jointed digit as he checked his ribs, shoulders and neck for damage. He determined that nothing was broken.

"Zac, if anything, and I mean anything starts to swell or hurt, I want you tell me immediately. Got it?" Walker ordered sternly.

Zac nodded. He’d been trying not to cry ever since he’d gone sprawling on the gravel. But it was hard. It hurt. A lot. 

"Ike help your brother upstairs. Zac, I want you resting in bed," Walker ordered. "Your mother is going to have a fit!"

Ike helped Zac walk stiff legged up the stairs and into his room. It was like a small parade going upstairs. Walker had ordered his other children out of the kitchen while they cleaned up his brother, but they had been trying to get in to see what the excitement was about. So, as Ike and Zac went up the stairs, Jessie, Avie and Mackie followed closely on their heels.

* * * *

Taylor opened the car for his Mom and she handed him the keys and slid across the seat. Taylor grinned, seat-belted himself in and started the car for the trip home. The memorial service was fresh in his memory as he drove home. The minister had spoken about unfulfilled promise. Of a life so young being ended before its potential could even begin to be tapped. And, he spoke of God’s divine plan and as just earthy beings it was not their right to judge him for taking her as he had into his heavenly home. Taylor wasn’t too sure he believed all that the minister had spoken of, some of it made sense. He had a hard time justifying any child having to suffer through cancer. There were so many horrible people on this earth. Mean people, people who had no regard for human pain or even life. In his mind, he thought it would make more sense if those people were made to suffer with the diseases. It was a lot to think about.

As soon as they entered their house, Taylor took off to the den. He said he had to make a phone call. Diana sensed trouble. The younger children were mysteriously missing and she found her oldest in the kitchen, throwing bloodied cloths into the trash.

"Who’s hurt?" Diana demanded.

"Uh, Hi, Mom," Ike exclaimed. "It’s not nearly as bad as it looks."

"Which one is hurt?" Diana snapped.

"Zac," Ike started to explain but his mother wheeled around on one heel and left the kitchen at a jog. 

Walker intercepted his wife and explained their son’s injuries as he walked upstairs with her. Diana burst into his room, where Zac was lying on his bed with Jessie sitting beside him reading and Avie and Mackie playing on the floor.

"Baby," Diana soothed as she hugged her son carefully. "Are you okay?"

"Mom, I’m okay," Zac said his voice muffled into hair.

"Kids, shoo out of here for a few minutes," Diana suggested gently. When the little ones left she looked down at her son and shook her head. "Zachary Walker Hanson!"

Zac’s eyes got big when his Mom called him by all three names. That usually meant he was in big trouble.

"Mom you’re not going to yell at me when I’m all hurt are you?" Zac pleaded using every bit of his famous puppy dog look that was his best at getting him out of trouble.

"Oh, no sir, you’re not getting off that easy," Diana exclaimed. "Tell me exactly how you managed to get all scraped on the knees when you have knee pads and how you managed to get scraped on the shins when you have shin pads. And elbows? Seems to me you have elbow pads too. And, then there’s that thing called a helmet. All of which you are supposed to have on before you even touch a bike."

"I wasn’t riding yet, Mom," Zac protested. "Ike was doing the safety checks and you know he takes forever to do anything. I was just sitting on Dad’s bike and it took off. Sort of caught me off guard. It wasn’t really my fault."

"Are you planning on blaming someone else for this?" Diana asked with disbelief and she sat down on the edge of the bed awaiting for her son’s explanation.

Zac slipped down in the bed. He knew this going to be a really long lecture.

* * * * 

Taylor finished his phone call and then he swung into the kitchen to get a drink. Ike was almost finished cleaning up the kitchen.

Taylor spotted the bloody towels. "Gross! Who got cut?"

"Zac tried to ride Dad’s bike. It took off and dragged him about eight feet. Scared the crap out of me!" Ike explained.

"Is he okay?"

"Yeah, he’s just scraped up. Nothing serious, knees, shins, elbows and chin. Nothing broken but he’s going to be a hurting puppy for a couple of days."

"As bad as the time he got trapped on Grandpa’s treadmill and it tumbled him over and over and he got skinned up from head to toe?" Taylor asked with a grin.

Ike grinned back. "No, not as bad as that time, but he’s scraped up pretty good and it was on gravel so it must have hurt."

Diana and Walker walked into the kitchen and Diana looked at her oldest son. "I want an explanation on how this happened, or at least your version," Diana asked.

"I didn’t have anything to do with it," Ike denied defensively. "Zac’s your wild child not mine!"

Taylor laughed at his Mom’s outraged expression at Ike’s words and grabbed two bottles of juice out of the refrigerator. "I’m going to go see Zac. Mom relax and just remember it could have been Grandpa’s treadmill."

Taylor headed for the upstairs and as he went by the playpen he picked up his littlest sister and bounced her in his arms. "I’ve got Zoe!" he shouted to no one in particular as he went upstairs. Entering Zac’s room, Taylor found most of his siblings either lying across the bed reading or playing on the floor. All except the one he was looking for. 

"Hey, guys. Where’s Zac?"

"He went into your room," Mackie said looking up from his Lego project.

Taylor entered his own room and his missing brother was propped up with all his pillows in the center of his bed. 

"Comfortable?"

"Hi, Tay," Zac said looking up from his drawing pad. "I’ll get out, I just wanted a little quiet and they’ve taken over my room."

"Stay put," Taylor offered. "Wow, those knees look nasty. Hurt?"

Zac nodded. "Stings like crazy. Elbows too. Now I won’t get to go riding either, and Mom’s so mad she said I couldn’t go near a bike for six months."

"Mom will cool down, she usually does."

"Yeah, but Dad said he was going to have a ‘discussion’ with me later. You know what that means. I’m gonna get yelled at for sure!"

Taylor looked very calm as he bounced Zoe on the bed to make her giggle. "I wouldn’t worry too much about that. When I broke my arm, he said the same thing to me, but he didn’t yell too much. Besides, in oh, about twenty minutes to an hour Dad’s probably going to be yelling my name."

Zac was intrigued. "What did you do? How could you get into trouble you were with Mom. You wreaked the car!" he guessed.

"I did not!" Taylor denied. 

"What? What did you do?" Zac demanded.

"I called the producer of that movie," Taylor explained. "I told him if he still wanted me, and our agents could work out the schedule I would do it."

"And, you didn’t tell Dad ahead of time?"

"Nope. He says he wants us to make our own decisions. So... I made a decision." Taylor declared.

Zac looked at his brother with disbelief. "Dad may say that, but what he means is he wants us to make our own decisions after we talk to him."

"That’s why I’m expecting him to yell," Taylor said with a grin.

"Jordan Taylor! Downstairs, I want to talk to you!"

"Two names," Zac grinned. "He’s not too mad then."

Taylor looked at his watch and back to his brother. "Those guys must work fast. It took less than twenty minutes. Oh well, I gotta go talk to Dad." He hoisted his little sister up on his hip and left the room.

"Hey, Tay!" Zac yelled.

"What?" Taylor popped his head back in the door.

"When you come back up, bring me something to eat."

"You’re not feeling that bad then. You’re still thinking with your stomach."

"Can I help it if my insides start to shrink and shrivel up if I don’t eat every hour?" Zac demanded. 

"Only if you promise keep the rug rats out of my room," Taylor threatened. "I’m not cleaning up their messes!"

* * * *

Contrary to what his parents believed Taylor did sleep. He didn’t sleep as much as most people, but he fall into a heavy sleep for the first several hours. He was in one of those deep sleeps when he felt someone sharply tugging on his blankets. Dragging his eyes open he discovered Mackie trying to crawl into this bed.

"Mackie, what are you doing up?"

"Zac, won’t let me sleep with him," the little boy whined. "I’m scared."

"Zac’s to sore to let you sleep with him," Taylor explained.

"Can I sleep with you?" Mackie whined.

Taylor pushed back the covers, but when his littlest brother tried to climb in he pushed him back off the bed. "First you go to the bathroom, cause if you pee on me I’ll dump you out on your head!"

"It’s dark!" Mackie whispered looking over his shoulder fearfully.

"Jeez," Taylor complained but he got out of bed and led his brother to the bathroom and waited for him. Finally, he crawled back in bed and tucked his little brother in. "Remember what I said," he whispered in Mackie’s ear. "If you pee on me, I’ll chuck you out on your head!"

Mackie giggled not in the least bit worried by his brother’s threat. Warm and secure from his nighttime scaries, and in far less than it took his older brother, he fell back to sleep in a matter of minutes.