Somehow, doing what flies do relaxed Brad and made him a little less impatient.
And, flies fly, and toward that end, he twitched his wings, took flight, and soared in meandering circles around the ginormous living room. He appeared to be a natural at it, feeling his buoyant body dip and soar over furniture the size of buildings. He got so caught up in his flight that the two giants entered the home before Brad had time to register their arrival.
Brad felt like his now non-existent jaw could literally have hit the floor as two huge figures framed the doorway before they stepped inside and closed the door behind them.
The lead giant, a towering figure, strode through the monolithic doorway, his muscled body clothed in dusty denim jeans and a tight t-shirt that showcased defined muscles.
Sal! Brad recognized his sibling, which wasn't easy as he struggled to piece together the scattered images broadcast from his strange compound eyes to his boggled brain.
Almost ten years younger and with a marginally better build than his older brother, he had a caramel skin of a lighter complexion than the darker tanned skin of his father and older brother. He had long, thick black hair and a full beard around his face.
Brad, transfixed but horrified at his younger brother’s sheer immensity, scarcely had time to contemplate the vast gulf separating them when an even bigger giant followed.
Papi!" Brad buzzed, hovering in place in the center of the room, as he saw his family members invade his home.
“HERMANO!” Sal called out in a voice that rolled through the rooms like peals of thunder. “YOU HOME?”
Only that same ominous silence met the query.
"Why now?" Brad buzzed. "Can't they ever call ahead?"
Jim Rivera pushed past his youngest son, crossed the living room floor and poked his head into the kitchen.
"We gonna wait?" Sal asked.
Sal's loud words slammed into Brad's tiny fly form with a physical force that left the little insect feeling battered.
Jim shrugged. "I'll try to get him on the phone," he answered.
Brad screamed as his papi's looming form advanced on his position, forcing him to veer off with a twitch of his wings to avoid a collision.
His papi's hearing remained sharp as a tack even as he aged, and he instantly detected the faint whine of a winged pest that sent him into alert mode. Brad's brother, Sal, in the meantime threw himself heavily onto the sofa.
After finding himself too far into his father's personal space, Brad flew to a nearby bookshelf, parking himself on the third tier. There he rested and hoped Mark wouldn't be long returning home.
Jim's eyes had locked onto the fly and followed it to the shelf. At that point, he saw what he needed and stepped closer to the coffee table and picked up a magazine near where Sal had propped his sneakers.
"You just gonna read the articles, pops?" Sal said with a snicker that caused Jim to look closer at the discreetly posed photo of a nude male on the cover.
"No, wise guy," Jim said. "Maldita mosca."
Sal just snickered again as he watched his father roll up the magazine and stalk toward the bookshelf.
On the other hand, Brad had heard the same words and immediately felt a chill seize him, which intensified when his papi's huge form approached swiftly, a tower of glossy print rolled into a tube in his right hand.