The Jealous Son. Michele Chynoweth

He had announced just days before Christmas that he no longer believed in Santa, that according to his friends it was just a thing parents made up to make sure their kids were good, especially around the hectic holidays. Eliza had made her older son swear to secrecy involving Santa so Austin wouldn’t find out.

      Cameron had also reached the bottom of his pile of gifts, and he opened his big box, pulling out a huge Matchbox race set with double looped tracks and at least two dozen race cars. He had often watched the Nascar races on TV with his dad, and Eliza had thought it would be the perfect gift for him. But she watched in dismay as her son, looking downcast, sadly put the set back in the box, not bothering to even pretend he wasn’t disappointed.

      “What’s wrong, Cameron? I thought…I mean, I’m sure Santa knew you loved race cars,” Eliza said.

      “I kind of wanted a drum set,” he replied softly. Eliza looked hopelessly at her husband.

      “Ah…that’s right, you did mention it once a while back.” Alex sat his spiked eggnog down on the end table and leaned forward in his chair. “Well, son, maybe you’ll get one next year for your birthday or Christmas. Santa probably didn’t have enough money to give a whole drum set out to all the kids who wanted one.”

      Cameron hunched over cross-legged on the floor by the tree, his elbows resting on his knees, and put his face in his hands, pouting and sullen, not looking at any of them. Eliza realized he was trying not to cry.

      Austin walked over and tapped his older brother on the shoulder, extending the guitar toward him. “Hey, Cameron, I’ll let you play my guitar,” he said cheerfully.

      Cameron swatted at the guitar, sending it banging to the floor. “I don’t want your stinking guitar, stupid.” He uncrossed his legs, stood up, and started to stomp out of the room.

      “Cameron, get back here.” Alex rose from his chair and grabbed his son by the arm, spinning him around. He looked down at his son and shook him angrily. “You need to apologize to your brother, and to your mother and me. You’re being an ungrateful brat, and you should know better than that.”

      Cameron flinched and looked down, unable to meet his father’s gaze. “Sorry, Austin,” he mumbled, his voice trembling. “Sorry, Mom and Dad. Can I go now?” His lower lip quivered.

      “Sure, honey,” she said, noticing with agitation that her husband still looked angry. But she held back from saying anymore, wanting to protect her son from further humiliation.

      Alex let go of his arm, and Cameron fled from the room.

      CHAPTER 6

      THE SLIGHT MARKS on Cameron’s arm—impressions from his father’s anger that Christmas morning—healed quickly, but the bruises to the ten-year-old boy’s ego didn’t. Cameron stayed silent for a week, not bothering to talk to the rest of his family.

      Several months later, Eliza was called into Mr. Dunleavy’s office again, but this time not for good news. Her fear from the first time, that Cameron was in trouble, was now being realized.

      She sat once again across the desk from the lanky principal as he relayed the episode.

      “I’m afraid Cameron was bullying another student, Mrs. Trellis,” he said in his authoritative, nasal tone. “The students were on the playground, and Cameron and another fifth grader, Donny Slade, approached a younger boy who’s in fourth grade, Bobby Montrose, and asked him if he had any money to lend them. When Bobby said he did but refused to give it to them, they shoved him into the rock-climbing wall, and his glasses fell to the ground and broke. They pushed him hard enough that he has bruises on his face and shoulder, according to his mother. They also emptied his pockets and took the dollar’s worth of change he had. I am suspending both Donny and your son for one week for assault and petty theft. Cameron will have to make up the schoolwork on his own time.”