Displaced Fairytale

Trevor jingled the keys as he unlocked the door to the little Chicago flat.  It had become routine since the time, only days after he’d moved in, when he had come home from work and thrown open the door to see his brother, Cale, going at it with his wife on the couch. Unsure of what to do then he’d tried to shut the door and go back into the hallway, but they had already seen him. “Oh man Trev I’m sorry,” Cale had rushed as his wife, Jenny, covered herself with a throw pillow, “I am just not used to having to worry about someone walking in.”

            “Yeah yeah it’s okay. It’s your house after all,” Trevor struggled to make eye contact with his brother. He had always been the bashful one. Cale had put his pants back on and walked over to where Trevor stood- still in the doorway. He placed a hand on his older brother’s shoulder, “Hey- it’s your house too now man. Don’t you think otherwise.”

            Trevor had been happily living alone in a small house in the suburbs of Chicago until 3 months before when a tornado had swept through and demolished the house entirely. Having just reached the point of feeling financially stable enough to do so, he had just bought a brand new vehicle: a shiny blue Toyota Tacoma. While happy with this purchase, it made it impossible for him to invest in new housing.

The boys’ parents, long time travel-enthusiasts, did not have a permanent residence and were in Spain at the time of the natural disaster anyway, which made them a no-go for living arrangements. Trevor had another brother Jonathan, the oldest of the boys, but he had assumed the role of first born too seriously which had left Trevor and Cale regarding him as more of a parental figure than a sibling. They had never been close. So the only logical option was for Trevor to move in with Cale and Jenny – newlyweds who, though gracious hosts, he could see would rather spend their time at home alone.

However, the three of them adjusted to life together and after a few more weeks had passed they were in a comfortable routine. Cale and Jenny worked 8-4 at their jobs while Trevor worked 9-5. This slight difference in schedules allowed for their mornings to be spent separately and that paired with Trevor’s tendency to spend as much time as possible outside the flat made it so that it never felt too crowded.

On a cold Monday morning in February, 5 months after Trevor had moved in, he went through his typical morning routine: coffee, shower, breakfast, go to work. Not liking how the water condensed so thickly in the little bathroom, Trevor would open the window. However, on this particular morning he started breakfast before his shower then realized, as he was drying off, that he’d left the stove on. He hurriedly threw on some clothes and rushed to turn the burner off. He sniffed the air around him: a slight smell of gas, but not bad. Everything would be okay. He left for work.

Trevor worked as a project manager for a company that made paper. He was looking over a design proposal for a new machine in one of the mills he monitored when his phone began to ring. “Trevor Hodgekins,” was his curt greeting.

“He Trev, it’s Cale,” there was a long pause, “I have some bad news. The window in the bathroom was left open today and the water pipes run right above it and they froze and burst. Our apartment is flooded.”

Trevor sat shocked in silence. He’d left that window open. He had been welcomed into their home and had then proceeded to destroy it. “Cale,” he began, desperation in his voice, “I –”

“Hey don’t say anything Trevor. It’s okay. We will get the repairs done and everything will be alright, okay? I’m not calling to point fingers, just to spread the word. It’s okay though I talked to Jonathan; we’re all going to stay with him for the time being.”

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