232 - captain

ain shot through Wendell's chin as his mind raced back to a conscious state. Now, a vague shaking feeling grew more concrete as his eyes finally realized that they would need to be open if he were to have any hope of figuring out what calamity had befallen him.

Wendell caught a glimpse of his younger brother's fist just as it connected once again with his throbbing jawbone. Tim's face was red hot, his eyes puffy and moist with tears.

Wendell's face hurt, but now awake, he could easily restrain his brother and push him away. "What the hell are you doing?!" he shouted at Tim, who had been tossed to the other side of Wendell's upper-level bunk bed.

Tim held back further tears as he conceded his older brother's superior strength and remained crumpled at the opposite end of the mattress. "What do you think?! A piece is missing!"

Rubbing the spot where Tim had been striking him, he tried to process his brother's response amidst a stream of other questions that were flooding his consciousness now that he was awake and no longer under direct assault. What time is it? What day of the week is it? Where's my phone? Did anyone text me? What piece? Oh.

"What? A piece of what is missing?" he asked.

"Like you don't know! You took it, just to mess with me!" Tim shot back, his face renewing its redness as he recalled the certain betrayal at his brother's hands.

Wendell looked his little brother in the eyes as he inhaled and exhaled a few times. He tried to suppress the anger and frustration as best he could. This was not the first time Tim had deemed him guilty of something and then completely overreacted. Things like this were outside his brother's control.

"Tim, listen, I don't know what you're talking about. Really. I didn't do anything to mess with you. If something bad happened, tell me, and we can solve the problem together. I promise."

Tim eyed his older brother's face carefully, trying to decide whether or not he could trust Wendell's words. Unable to make up his mind, he feebly asked, "Are you sure you don't know?"

"I don't know anything except that my kid brother's got one hell of a right hook," Wendell smirked. "So, what piece is missing?"

Tim seemed to relax now, accepting that perhaps Wendell was telling the truth. A moment later, the anxiety returned, as he tried to put into words an answer to his brother's question.

"You know the puzzle I have been working on? The 1000 piece set that grandma gave me for my birthday? It's of a train station switching yard," Tim began.

"Of course I know it, Tim," Wendell replied. As if it were impossible for anyone in their family to not be aware of it. The puzzle had consumed their dining room table for weeks since Tim's birthday, though he hardly ever seemed to make any progress with it.

"But I didn't know you were that close to finishing it up, that you'd notice a piece missing."

"I'm not. So far, I have solved only 147 pieces," Tim said. "The missing piece is one of the 853 still remaining. I count them, of course, to make sure everything's ready to be put together."

"Of course," Wendell replied, being careful to not mock his brother in tone. "Did you double check?"

"Triple checked. I would double check anyway, but when I discovered the anomaly, I counted once more than usual just to be certain. It's missing."

"Of course," Wendell said once more, rubbing his jawbone, deep in thought.