The Anti-hero (The Goode Brothers)

Isaac offers me a bite of his banana, shoving a handful of mush toward my mouth, drool dripping over his chubby little fingers.

“Nom, nom,” I say, pretending to take a bite, and he laughs. He’s got those big front teeth on the top now, so he looks funny when he smiles, but he’s still pretty cute.

With those blond curls and big blue eyes, he looks just like Mom.

“Oh, Isaac, you’re a mess,” Mom says with a smile as she wipes his hands clean with a damp paper towel. Then she places a kiss on the top of his head, ruffling his hair. “Adam, will you help the twins get their shoes on? We’re gonna be late.”

She sounds frantic as she scoops my baby brother out of his high chair.

“Of course,” I reply, pushing my breakfast away as I stand up. Just as I start toward the living room, she touches my arm, so I turn toward her. She’s wearing a proud, loving expression as she touches my combed hair, thick with dried gel.

“You look so handsome.” Then she uses her thumb to wipe cereal milk from the corner of my mouth. Grabbing my napkin from the table, I quickly dab my face.

“Thanks, Mom,” I say with a smile.

The house is busy today. Mom and Dad have been planning for this day for months, but it’s still crazy. The seven-year-old twins are fighting about something upstairs, their footsteps thundering through the house. Dad is still up in his office. I can hear him on the phone, his voice booming with frustration, probably over something going wrong today.

I grab Caleb’s and Luke’s black loafers from the rack by the door, then I bound up the stairs to find them. I’m only two steps up when I hear Dad hollering.

“Lucas! Dammit! You got this shit all over my pants.” I freeze, my blood running cold with dread as I wait for the inevitable—Lucas’s howling cry.

“Melanie!” my father shouts, practically shaking the walls. I’m sprinting now, eager to get my little brother away from Dad so he doesn’t yell anymore.

In the upstairs hallway, Lucas is lying on the floor, screaming his head off, red-faced and covered in yogurt and tears.

“Come on, Luke. Get up,” I say gently as I help him to his feet.

He’s holding his cheek as he cries, and sure enough, his hands are covered in white, sticky yogurt. He must have snuck it up here from breakfast, even though he knows that’s against the rules. I quickly shuffle him toward the bathroom to get him cleaned up.

His clothes are disheveled and he messed up his hair, so I try to fix it in a rush. Behind me, my dad stomps down the hall, looking furious. In the mirror’s reflection, I watch as my mother reaches the landing with Isaac in her arms.

Dad scolds her, shaking the empty yogurt cup in her face, while she nods in agreement with his berating words.

She shouldn’t have let him have food upstairs.

She should control these damn boys.

She shouldn’t have had so many fucking kids.

It’s hard to watch, and I don’t like the way Lucas gapes at him with fear. So I kick the door closed and recomb Luke’s hair while he cries, complaining that I’m pulling too hard.

“We’re going to be late!” Dad yells again.

He shouts those five words at least four more times before we get everyone loaded up in the van. And he mutters them again in frustration all the way to church—the new church.

Dad’s new church.

When we pull into the parking lot in the back, I stare up at the giant building and wonder how on earth this could be a church. It’s just bricks and drywall and paint. Our last church had beautiful windows and creaking floors and a comforting smell that you couldn’t find anywhere else in the world. Even on cold days, it felt warm.

But Dad looks proud as he walks ahead of us toward the back entrance, so when he smiles back at Mom, I try to smile along. He seems happy. This could be good for everyone.

Then, for a split second, he glances at me, giving me that beaming smile, and I don’t have to force my grin anymore. When he turns back to the building, I pick up my pace so I can walk next to him.

There’s a man I recognize who opens the back door and welcomes us in as we enter. It’s huge in here, but a lot of it is still under construction. Straight ahead is a big open walkway, and I can see the front of the church from here.

We’re all walking fast now as more people join us. They’re the people who work with my dad, although I don’t really know their names or positions. They don’t talk to us much. And I don’t pay much attention when they talk to Dad, giving him instructions and things to remember.

As a family, we meet together at the front of the church. Large black doors loom ahead of us, and I stare at them in confusion. Those aren’t church doors. Not like our last church.

“Okay, so we’ll greet them outside before welcoming them in. Melanie, you lead the ladies to the nursery. Let them see you checking your boys in and then they’ll do the same.”

My father touches my shoulder and stares down at me. “Adam, I want you to stand here and greet the congregation. Understand?”

“Yes, Dad,” I reply proudly with a nod. I’m not nervous. I’ve been the greeter hundreds of times at our last church. I can do this in my sleep. But as one of his employees hands me a box of programs, I stare at them, confused.

This is a lot more than we’ll need.

For the next few minutes, everyone seems to be running around frantically. One of the men my dad has worked with a long time, Mark, talks with him in private near the door. With nothing better to do, I eavesdrop on their conversation.

“Make sure to talk about that new club that opened down the street. We need to promote family values.”

My father nods while reading the paper Mark gave him. “Yes, yes. House of sin…desecration of our good city. This is great.”

“Encourage tidings for this mission. As a community, we can have that club closed down,” Mark replies.

“Their donations would fund the legal team we need to pass this bill through legislation,” my father says.

“Perfect,” Mark says, clapping him on the shoulder.

I turn toward my mother, who’s busy fixing Caleb’s tie. “Mom…”

She glances up at me.

“What’s Dad talking about?” I ask. “What club are they trying to take down?”

When she looks in their direction, I notice the way her features stiffen like she’s annoyed. “None of your concern, Adam. Don’t worry about it, love.”

A moment later, my father rejoins us, but Mark stays on the sidelines. And when the assistants finally open the doors, my family is all standing together like we’re posing for a Christmas card, smiling and waving.

When my eyes adjust to see the crowd waiting out front, my smile fades and my eyes widen. This is a lot bigger than the congregation we had at our last church.

My dad steps out first, waving at everyone with a big, proud smile. Once their cheers and applause have faded, he makes a little speech while I stare in surprise at everyone waiting to come in. Dad had been getting more and more popular at our last church, but I had no idea it was like this. Is this from that book he wrote?

The next thing I know, he cuts the ribbon and then the congregation is all rushing in. They smile at me, thank me, and take their programs one by one. Then Dad positions himself at my side, placing a heavy hand on my shoulder as he helps me pass out programs.

We do that together, and when he glances at me during the chaos of it all, he smiles, and it feels so good because he never looks at me like that.

The crowd of people slows down, and during a quieter moment, he squeezes my shoulder. He’s happy, and I wish he could be like this forever.

And I don’t know why, but I want to show him I’m old enough now. I’m not a kid anymore and he can include me in things that he doesn’t include the younger boys in. “So, what were you and Mark talking about?” I ask.

He responds with a confused expression, so I continue.

“Some club you want to shut down.”

His jaw clenches as he inhales through his flared nostrils. I’m nearly as tall as him now, so when he turns me toward him, I can look directly into his eyes. “There are people in this world who threaten the values we hold close, Adam. Temptation our community shouldn’t be exposed to. It’s our job to protect these good people, Adam. It’s our job to protect their souls. Do you understand?”

Silently, I nod.

Then he glances around the giant entryway of this new church. “This will all be yours someday, Adam. You want that, don’t you?”

Do I? This wouldn’t be so bad. I could get used to all of this attention. Plus, the people are all so nice.

“Yeah, I would.”

“Good,” he replies, squeezing my shoulder again. “Then, just follow my lead.”

In that moment, with my father by my side, I feel so much pride and hope that I never want a single thing to change. It’s like the first day of my brand-new life because now I have a purpose. Together with my father, we will save this city. We’ll save their souls and make the world a better place.

My father is a good man, and what we’re doing is good, really good.

For the first time in my life, I feel like a hero.