This Doesn't Happen in the Movies by Renee Pawlish Page A

Deuce.
    “Not hit you.  He was getting into that SUV over there.”  We all looked down the street where Deuce pointed.  Red taillights suddenly pierced the darkness, and a black, full-size SUV peeled away from the curb.  Deuce started to run after it, but the vehicle disappeared into the night.
    “He’s gone,” Ace stated the obvious.
    “It had a broken taillight,” Deuce said.  “The left one.”
    I shook my head.  “Help me up,” I grimaced.
    “I just tried to,” Ace said.  “You sat back down.”
    “I’ll stay up this time.  I promise.”  Ace grabbed my hand and yanked me to my feet, and this time I did stay standing.  Wobbling and nauseous, but standing.
    “You don’t look so good,” Ace said through chattering teeth.
    “Is there an echo?” I asked no one in particular.  It didn’t matter.  The brothers gawked at me in confusion.  Like Two Stooges.  Not too bright, but funny as hell.
    Ace stooped down and picked something up.  “Are these yours?”  He held up my keys.
    “Yeah, thanks,” I mumbled.
    “Hey, you want to come in for dinner?” Deuce asked.  “Our brother’s coming over.”
    “Who?” I asked.
    “Dude,” Ace rolled his eyes at me.  “Our brother.”
    “What?”  Now I was acting like a stooge.  As far as I ever knew, there were only two Goofball brothers.  “Another brother,” I said.  This was a night for surprises.
    “Yeah,” Deuce said.  “There he is.”
    I was not ready for a third Goofball Brother.  Not with my head pounding the way it was.
    “Hey, what’s going on here?”  The voice was deep and sounded more assured than a Goofball Brother should.
    I straightened up and put out an unsteady hand.  There was no mistaking the man before me as a Goofball Brother.  Although obviously older than the others, he had the same slim build and light hair, and the same stark gray eyes, but with wisdom lines flaring from the corners.  I missed his hand on the first try.  “Let me guess, you must be Trey.”
    “Huh?” he said, a not so bright look on his face.
    Oh boy, this card didn’t fall far from the pack.  “If you’re Trey, how can you be older than them?”  I gestured toward the other two.  “Shouldn’t you be younger?  You know.  One,” I pointed to Ace.  “Two, three.”  I pointed at Deuce, then the new guy.
    The man leaned closer to me, his eyes narrowing as he examined me.  He sniffed near my face.  “I can’t smell any booze, so you’re not drunk,” he said.  “But you look like maybe you’re a few flames short of a fire.”
    I pointed to the blood near my temple.  “Someone used my head as a baseball and took a bat to it.  I’m a little woozy.”
    “Oh,” he said with a sympathetic nod.
    “Who are you?” I asked, not bothering to hide my own confusion.  I wasn’t really close to the Brothers, but I thought I would’ve heard about another brother.
    “I’m Bob Smith.”  He jerked his head toward his brothers.  “I’m the oldest of the Smith clan.”
    “Bob,” Deuce said.  “Same forwards as backwards.  Although he doesn’t look the same from behind.”  Ace and Deuce snorted and guffawed at the joke, while Bob’s left lip twitched up in an embarrassed smile.
    “Dad hadn’t discovered his love of poker until after I was born.”  Bob grinned.  “That, or Mom wouldn’t give in to the naming convention on the first kid.”  He took my elbow and propelled me up the steps and into the Brothers’ condo.  “Let’s get a look at your head.  I’m an EMT and I don’t like the looks of you right now.  It must’ve been one helluva whack to have you so out of it.”
    Now I had to reevaluate.  The brains in the family must’ve come around only once, the first time.  “An EMT?  Do you work here in town?”
    “Uh huh.  Come on in here.”  Bob guided me to a couch in the living room.  I laid my head back and closed my eyes.
    “Here, get him a glass of water,” Bob said.