Ethan was at Manny’s fencing tournament, ostensibly there to support his step-cousin, but primarily engrossed in his phone.
The clash of foils, the shouts of the crowd – it all faded into background noise as he scrolled through social media.
He didn’t even look up when the crowd cheered, signaling Manny had won another point.
“Bravo!
Bravo!” Gloria exclaimed, clapping enthusiastically.
Alex, ever the intellectual, offered a historical tidbit.
“Did you know that fencing goes back to the 12th century?”
Haley, phone in hand, rolled her eyes.
“You know what’s even nerdier than fencing?
Knowing when it began.”
Ethan, without looking up from his phone, mumbled, “She got a point.”
Luke, loyal to his friends, defended Alex.
“I don’t think you’re a nerd, Alex.”
“Shut up, dork,” Alex retorted, focusing on the match.
Mitchell, meanwhile, was darting back and forth, meticulously recording Manny’s fencing tournament with a handheld camera.
He looked utterly exhausted.
“Would this be easier if we suspended you from a crane?” he asked Cameron, who was supervising the filming.
Cameron, adjusting the camera lens, scoffed.
“Any monkey can shoot a home movie.”
Suddenly, Haley let out a shriek of dismay.
“No!
No, no, no, no, no!
Phone died!” She turned to Ethan, her hand outstretched.
“Ethan, can I borrow your charger?”
“No,” Ethan replied, without missing a beat, still scrolling.
“Why not?” Haley whined.
“I’m not letting my phone die because you didn’t put your phone on charge,” Ethan stated simply.
“You are such a-” Haley started, but Alex, ever the quick thinker, cut her off.
“No biggie.
Your battery probably just statically defracticated,” Alex said smoothly.
She reached over, took the battery out of Haley’s phone, and handed it to her.
“It means you can recharge it with static electricity.
Just rub it on your hair.”
Haley, surprisingly, actually did it, vigorously rubbing her phone battery on her hair.
Ethan just stared, his mouth agape, utterly stunned into silence by his sister’s gullibility.
“What?” Haley asked, seeing his expression.
“Nothing,” Ethan managed to say, shaking his head slowly.
“Just thinking about natural selection.”
“Exactly,” Alex agreed, a triumphant smirk on her face.
Jay, watching Manny score another point, thumped Phil on the back.
“Yes!
You know, I used to go to the houses of my friends, and it used to bug me, their kids’, you know?
Because there was never a trophy in my house.” He then pointed at Gloria and laughed.
“Not until this one.” He grabbed Phil’s arm, giving it a hearty squeeze.
Phil winced.
“Oh, that’s a good grip.” He turned to Claire.
“Can we switch seats?”
Jay, oblivious to Phil’s discomfort, continued, “I know you’re not supposed to care, but it’s kind of cool to have a kid in your house who’s the best at something, you know what I mean?” Phil and Claire exchanged a contemplative look, both silently mulling over Jay’s words, the realization slowly dawning on them.
(Commentary)
Phil, sitting beside Claire, smiled warmly.
“Yeah, our kids are great.”
“They’re the greatest,” Claire affirmed, a soft look on her face.
“Gosh, we’re blessed,” Phil said, sighing contentedly.
“We are,” Claire agreed, then a thoughtful frown creased her brow.
“But, um…
are they the best at something?
I’d have to think about that.”
Phil immediately jumped in.
“Well, Alex is great at every single thing she tries, so, you know, she’ll find her specialty.”
“She will,” Claire nodded.
“And — and Haley is…” The two were lost for a moment, trying to find a specific “best” for Haley.
Phil finally offered, “Hayley is so pretty.”
“Gorgeous.
Gorgeous girl,” Claire added, nodding emphatically.
“So, she can meet someone who’s the best at something,” Phil concluded, a pragmatic solution.
Then the thoughts turned to their oldest.
“And Ethan,” Phil began, a slight pause.
“Well, his music is-”
“Not for us, but other people seem to like it,” Claire interjected, a diplomatic truth.
“He’s really good at it; he’s made songs about being dizzy, about Novocain,” Phil mused, trying to find the positives.
“It’s an odd talent,” Claire admitted, a hint of bewilderment in her voice.
“Yeah, maybe he just becomes a musician,” Phil suggested, a slight shrug.
“Hopefully, he gets a real job, maybe as an electrician or something,” Claire countered, her practical nature overriding Phil’s optimism.
“And then, I guess that leaves Luke,” Phil said, a note of quiet resignation in his voice.
“We dropped the ball a little bit on that one.”
“Yeah, a little bit,” Claire agreed, a shared parental sigh escaping them both.
Ethan was down in the kitchen, taking a much-needed break from his music.
He was rummaging through the fridge, looking for food, when he saw Haley still vigorously rubbing her phone battery on her hair, a look of growing frustration on her face.
“There must be something wrong with this phone,” Haley muttered, exasperated.
“I’ve rubbed it on my head for, like, an hour.”
Claire, walking in, heard this.
“What?”
She looked from Haley’s bald spot-in-the-making to the battery, then her eyes darted to Ethan, already knowing who the culprit was.
“Ethan!”
“Wasn’t me,” Ethan said, mouth full of a stolen leftover chicken nugget.
Claire’s eyes then landed on Alex, who was trying, unsuccessfully, to stifle a giggle.
“Alex!”
Alex merely chuckled, a mischievous glint in her eyes.
“Oh, you’re such a geek!” Haley shrieked, finally realizing she’d been pranked.
“At least I didn’t give myself a bald spot,” Alex retorted, pointing.
“Oh, my God!
Mom!” Haley wailed, clutching her head.
Claire sighed, stepping in to mediate.
“Alex, don’t be mean.
Haley, stop making yourself such an easy target.” She then turned to Ethan.
“Ethan,”
“I didn’t even do anything,” Ethan protested, his mouth full.
“Good job,” Claire finished, a slight smile on her face.
She turned back to Phil, a more serious look on her face.
“Yeah, of course I want Luke to be successful.
But I don’t think that a parent can just force that.” She leaned against the counter.
“Now, sure, some kids need to be pushed or shoved in the right direction, and have faith that the kid’s gonna find his own way.” She smiled.
“Besides, Luke already is the best at something, being my youngest son.”
“Lame!” Ethan shouted from the top of the stairs, having been silently eavesdropping.
“Damn it, Ethan,” Claire muttered, rolling her eyes.
“Come on, even you can admit that was lame,” Ethan called down, amused.
“Go away!” Claire yelled, but she couldn’t hide a small smile.
Ethan walked away, chuckling.
Claire sighed, shaking her head.
“It sounded a lot less lame in my head.”
Later on, the family found themselves at another event, in a crowded car park this time, where they spotted Cam and Mitchell.
“Hey, guys!
I brought orange slices,” Claire called out, holding up a bag of the fruit.
Cameron, however, looked utterly exasperated.
“Okay, you know what?
I can’t bear this.
Claire, Mitchell still resents you for quitting the figure-skating team when you were kids.” Cameron, ever the dramatic one, waved his hands.
“Ladies, come inside with me, please, work it out.”
Claire handed Ethan the bag of orange slices, a look of resignation on her face.
“You too,” Cameron added, gesturing for Ethan to follow.
Ethan shrugged, intrigued by the prospect of more family drama.
“Oh, come on, this looks interesting.”
Cameron, leading the way, sighed.
“It’s really not.”
They were all now sitting in the stands of the fencing arena, watching Manny, who was about to compete in the final round.
Jay, ever the proud (and slightly overbearing) grandfather, handed out custom-made t-shirts that read “Who’s the Manny?” Ethan accepted his, knowing he was never going to wear it outside of this specific, incredibly awkward setting.
It could, however, be used to clean his car.
Jay, giving Manny a pre-match pep talk, barked, “Stay focused, stay loose, and stay angry.
Who’s the toughest?”
Manny, pulling up his protective helmet, declared, “I am!”
Gloria, equally enthusiastic, cheered, “Who’s the bravest?!”
Manny pulled up his helmet again.
“I am.”
Jay, his voice booming, asked, “Who’s the baddest?”
Manny, clearly tired of the routine, pulled up his helmet one last time.
“Can you guys ask all the questions now so I don’t have to keep lifting this?”
“Go!” Gloria urged, laughing.
“Go get ’em!” Jay echoed.
A woman next to them, the opponent’s mother, smiled at her daughter.
“Are you all set?”
A little girl, Manny’s opponent, confidently replied, “Yeah.”
“Okay, go get ’em!
Good luck!” the woman said, as the little girl ran off.
The woman then turned to Gloria.
“Excuse me — is this seat taken?”
“No, sit,” Gloria offered graciously.
“Oh, thank you.” The woman noticed Jay’s shirt, then Gloria’s, and then the one in Ethan’s hand.
“Oh, is Manny yours?”
“Yes,” Gloria said, beaming.
“Oh, he’s quite good.
I saw him earlier,” the woman praised.
“Ay, thank you.
Is she your little girl?” Gloria asked, gesturing to Manny’s opponent.
“Oh, Caroline?
No.
No.” The woman’s smile faltered.
“Sadly, her parents passed away.
I’m her nurse down at the children’s hospital.
But all of my patients are like family to me.”
Ethan, observing the immediate shift in atmosphere, leaned over to Jay.
“Do you want me to pull the fire alarm?”
Jay, his face now a mask of horror, quickly whispered, “No pyro.”
The nurse continued, completely oblivious.
“She’s our little miracle.
I only wish her father had made it back from Afghanistan to see this.”
Gloria and Jay looked utterly stunned, their faces paling.
“Oh!
There’s our cheering section!” the nurse exclaimed, pointing across the arena.
“Over here, you guys!” Just then, two people in wheelchairs, both looking frail, were brought over by other nurses, waving tiny flags.
Gloria’s eyes widened.
“Oh, my God, we have to stop him!”
Ethan, seeing the impending disaster, asked, “Now?”
Jay frantically tried to wave Manny off, making desperate “stop” gestures, but in his panic, he accidentally made a cut-throat motion.
Ethan merely sighed, burying his face in his hands.
“This is going to be painful to watch.”
And it was.
Manny, fired up by his family’s (misinterpreted) encouragement, proceeded to beat the little girl badly, scoring point after point with ruthless efficiency.
Every time he scored, the entire crowd let out a collective groan of sympathy for the orphaned, sick child.
Gloria, wincing with every point, tried to mitigate the damage.
“So, can we take you and Caroline out for ice cream?”
The nurse smiled sadly.
“We can’t.
She’s diabetic.”
“Of course she is,” Jay muttered, utterly defeated.
After the match was finally called, a silent, awkward victory for Manny, the family was allowed to leave.
Jay, looking utterly mortified, carried the large, gleaming trophy.
“Let’s get out of here,” Jay grumbled, ushering everyone out.
“Let’s get this thing in the trunk.
I can’t decide if I’m feeling more proud or mortified.”
As they reached the car park, the family stopped dead.
In the middle of the empty lot, under a single, flickering light, Claire and Mitchell, dressed in their old, glittery figure skating costumes, were performing a surprisingly elaborate and dramatic figure skating routine.
Gloria, watching the bizarre spectacle, merely said, “How about now?”
(Commentary)
Ethan, back on his couch, his eyes wide with a thousand-yard stare, slowly shook his head.
“That was the roughest thing I’ve ever seen.
I’ve seen analog horror, creepypasta, beheading videos, I’ve seen ‘Two Girls One Cup.'” He paused, a shiver running down his spine.
“What I saw today made me envy the blind.”