Brotherly Love

Written for my Creative Writing class in the Spring of 2016.

May, 1996

“Have you seen Mike yet?” Renee asked Mike’s mother as she sat with me in her arms. She had been wondering for days where he was, not wanting him to miss his son being born.

“I’m not sure where he is. He comes and goes so often it’s hard to keep track.”

“Well, I need to press on, with or without him.” She held me tightly and handed me over to my grandmother, Kathleen. Kathy was and still is one of the people that filled that void of not having a father for so many years. She was laid back but very strict when it came to table and bathroom manners. When I think of her, I think of the Dames Judi Dench or Maggie Smith, or some rendition in between. I still remember her for my obsession with washing my hands, and my peeve toward people that chewed their food with their mouths open like a barn door. Yet, with her laid back nature, I could never picture what she did prior.

Kathy sat in their home, waiting for Mike and his father to arrive. She watched as headlights peered around the corner of her street, lighting up the gravel road and onto her planted daisies. The engine shut off, and two slams from the car echoed into the night. The crunch of rocks under boots just made her more anxious, and then knocks struck her door.

“Hi Kathleen.” The taller, heavy set man in front of her said.

“Hi Joe.”

“He wanted to come home early. I forgot to tell you over the phone.”

“That’s fine. Should we bring him back early?”

“No, I think he wants to stay here for a while.” They both looked back as Mike kicked a few pebbles into the yard.

“He wants things back to the way it was.” Kathy said reluctantly.

“We both know that won’t happen.” Kathy was joined from behind with a bald, bearded man wiping his eyes.

“Who is it?” The man opened his eyes to see the man standing in the door frame. “Oh.” Joe half-smiled and looked back at Mike. Kathy thought about how Mike avoided joining Kathy and Joe’s conversation. Mike walked away as a third door opened and slammed. A woman appeared behind Joe. Bobbi was the spitting image of Imelda Staunton, but with more squinted eyes and the oh-too-often cackle.

“Are you ready, Joe?” She glanced to him as he started walking back to the car and then leered at Kathy. “Two weeks!” She went back to the car and the brake lights disappeared in the distance. Mike walked inside and went straight downstairs.

When I came around, everyone forced rose-colored glasses on me, especially toward my father. I had no idea what he went through, what he had to put up with, and how most of the family didn’t want him and me alone.

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What if the rose-colored glasses never came off? I would have never got on good terms with my father. I would have never cringed as he and his step-daughter listened to modern heavy punk music, trying to mimic the horrid screams while I sat upon the back seat, surviving  I would have never even met who I consider my sister. We would have kept going without a care in the world. The worst of all, I would have never bonded with my uncle.

Uncle James, he who took over the part my dad so helplessly couldn’t take on, was my knight in shining, fatherly armor. He would sing songs with me in his truck, play games with me in his living room, take me to events he and his friends would go to: But when I think of him, I think ballpark. The franks, the yelling, the smelly fans, peanuts, the creak of an old stadium and the echo of a new. The smell of a leathery baseball and the sound one made when they hit a clear homer. James was a big man, like the lot of us, and he seemed to be gracious and up-beat. Yet, he arguably put the biggest shades on my face than anyone else. Rose would have been an understatement. His were emerald.

December, 2013

“I know you have a lot of questions. I can answer any you would like.” James said over the phone as I sat in the hallway, in the deep night while all the other crevices were quiet yet restless. The cold window I sat against reminded me of how cold it was outside, but I was sweating in the dense heat flowing through the common area.

“It doesn’t help that I’m away for all this,” I said blatantly. “You could have told me sooner. Not just the recent news, but everything else.”

“We never deemed it appropriate. You aren’t even an adult yet, why would I tell you about all this sooner? It just would have made things worse in the end.”

I changed subjects quickly so he wouldn’t make me concede to him. “Why are you having your own Christmas this year?”

“I just feel as if I need to host my own for my family.” James had just recently married. He was the last of his three brothers to hitch himself, and he was too proud of it. He had two little girls to look after, and I understood his circumstances behind wanting to host his own Christmas.

“Grandma Kathy told me you didn’t invite my uncle or my dad. Your brothers.” The other side of the phone call went quiet for a bit.

“Are you sure you want to know why?” I took a few seconds to think.

“Of course.”

I always saw my uncle as a family man. I just didn’t realize that it’s human nature when someone has their own family to take care of, their old priorities become new nuisances. I was naïve. My uncle knew how to manipulate me just enough to where I thought I was making my own decisions. I feel sorry for his kids.

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June, 2003

The sweet sound of Diamond Rio rapped on our ears, we garnished in red as tires bumped on the road and other red-clothed fans walked down the streets near us. I could see it in the distance, Busch Stadium. Before its red bricks, before it had its own nation. Or did it always have a nation? What color was it? I know in pictures its depicted as a stone grey, but I remember it always being red. Diamond Rio had pulled off for a second and then my Uncle spoke.

“She’s so kissable… Huggable… Lovable… Unbelieveable!” Everytime this song came on, I started singing at ‘lovable’. Not that I didn’t know when the song started, more that my uncle and I had that routine. He would synchronize it at the beginning, and I would let my voice fly once it started getting good.

“She’s a mouth full of everything and anything a man could want!” I laughed as he hadn’t had a woman in probably years. He was the least odd of his brothers, but was the only one not with the woman he would marry. But once he put an excessive amount of passion in the lines “She’s music to my ears that makes my heart sing!”, I knew he would still search for years past then. And even though we parked a minute into the song, it was a necessity to stay in the car until the best part; a piano solo that took over your body and made you fake touching the black and white keys.

I only went to baseball games with him to hang out with him. I was seven; I rarely paid attention to the actual game, let alone I probably couldn’t even see the game at that height. The only games I tried to pay attention to where his own softball games that he took part in with his buds. He’d take me to watch him and I’d have a blast hanging out with all the older, cooler people he would play with, and would play year round. I still remember the smell of wet grass while under the make-shift bullpen, talking with people three times my age and munching on potato chips.

June, 2015

“I know we went last year on the Star Wars day, but I’ll actually go to a usual game with you, Uncle James.” He had invited me to the ‘Star Wars at Busch Stadium’ day, yet I felt slightly offended he thought I would only go if I got to see some fictional characters and get a t-shirt.

“I just figured you wouldn’t want to just go to a ballgame with your uncle. This is a little incentive.”

“If you ask me, I’ll go.”

“Well I’m asking you now, aren’t I?” His voice said with a smile over the phone. I could picture his round face, showing a smile but inside leaving a grin. At this point, I still wasn’t into much sports, but I did like going to the occasional baseball game just to bask in the atmosphere and watch my favorites perform. That much red and white moving around the field, it was like the grass was set on fire, and thousands of people had come to watch how it unfolded.

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November, 2007

My father and I were on a different pace back before high school. He had never been around for anything I could remember, nor anything going on at this point in my life. I still had a stuffed bear he had gifted to me as a child with a matching blanket. They said he wasn’t fit to be a father, his mood swings were toxic if he would be around me, and the infamous, straight up he didn’t want to be around me.

I sent out the yearly Christmas list like I always did. My direct family was pretty small, with just two siblings, two parents and a grandmother, but my extended family went on for miles. They had agreed that the best way to stop duplicates in the gifting process was for me to send out a biannual list of things I may have wanted; one for around my birthday and one around Christmas. My father had started inviting me over to his house more, to see him and his girlfriend and her daughter. They lived in an odd, two story apartment where the second story looked over the bottom floor. I remember watching movies and playing Lego games with my close aged, practical sister, and when I stayed the night I’d wake up early to his elephant sneezes and the sound of him guzzling down water for the pills he took everyday.

In this case, I sent him the list this time around. He replied with something along these lines:

            “I understand you have a lot of gift givers and you want to disperse your wants and needs in an efficient way, but this is disgraceful. You shouldn’t expect them to give you exactly what you want. You need to take what you are given and be grateful.”

I was only trying to include him. He had been looked down on by most of his own family and I just wanted to give him a little hand. At that time, It felt like he was just pushing me even farther out of his life with the rude reply. But now that I look back on it, I was the one out of line, and he was only trying to teach me a lesson.

            “You’re calling me disgraceful? I just wanted to send you the list in case you for once wanted to be a part of my life. Give a little. To not just be something in the back of my mind, dwelling and rotting for years like a tumor. You’re calling me disgraceful? You help take care of that b***h’s daughter but not ever once your own son. How’s that for a disgrace?”

Middle school I had started learning and using curse words. At that time, the main ones were b***h, s**t, a*s. I had a wider vocabulary than that, but the fact that these bland words were considered ‘curses’ made them ever more fun to say. And from that paragraph you may think me disgraceful, but it was true. She is a b***h.

December, 2014

“So. Your uncle told you.”

“Yeah, dad.”

“What did you say?”

“I don’t want to talk about it. I have way too many thoughts in my head. How is Tay doing?”

“She’s doing fine, not talking to her mother though.” Tay, my now step-sister, had not long before found out that my dad was not her ‘father’, and she didn’t blame Mike. She blamed her b***h of a mother.

Our big family started splitting and the seams around Christmas of 2014. Things became clearer, people were forgiven, and some became more puzzling. My view on my uncle and my dad switched positions. The partners-in-crime I called my father and step-mom were now just me feeling sorry that my father and sister had to live with the her, and the warm, open armed uncle that had once did everything with me was now the pushy, almost puppeteer that had his hand up my rectum for the past couple of years.

May, 2013

“So what should I do?”

“I say go to a four-year straight out”, my uncle’s voice was raspy on the other side of the line. “Get the experience.”

“But If I start out at community, I get two years free.”

“I still think going straight out would be better. You are heavy set on Engineering, right?”

I paused for a bit. “Yeah, I guess…”

Everyone else in my family had encouraged going to a community college first. Take those two free years and run with them. Yet, my reliance on my uncle had built up for so long, I took his advice over all others. He was so disappointed to hear I left after one year to go to community college; and then I laughed when his step-son lasted only one semester before returning home to mom and step-dad. Once December 2014 came around, I had lost that reliable uncle in the sense of empty knowledge, repetitiveness, and now the occasional Facebook scold for supporting the presidential candidate he doesn’t.

1995

“What do you mean?” Joe lowered his head as his wife yelled behind him.

“Mike is of age, and as long as he takes his medication, I don’t have to pay child support anymore.” Kathy was at the door with my other uncle, Dale.

“So you came all the way over here to tell us we won’t be getting child support anymore? Couldn’t you have just, sent a letter or something?”

“Dale wanted to see his brother. He doesn’t get to see Mike or James anymore.”

“Well he isn’t here "“

“He hasn’t been around for a while. We assumed he was at your house.” Joe had enough of his wife’s interference. “Alright. We can do without the child support. Come on in, Dale.” Dale went in the house, and Joe waved for Bobbi to keep him company.

“What are we going to do about Mike and Renee?” Kathy looked worried.

“Hope for the best. We are going to have to help take care of that kid. Mike isn’t going to be much use.”

“If he would just take his medication "“

“He had bipolar disease. He is going to be reluctant at times to medication. Especially while he is in this rebellious phase.”

“I just hope that kid doesn’t turn out like Mike. Not having true parents.”

“I’m more worried about Mike and Renee turning into us. Bickering constantly. It is rubbing off on our sons. I don’t want that kid to go through the same thing.”

Kathy and Joe stood looking around the moonlit backyard. Kathy walked over and sat down on a rickety-old blue bench. The feel of old, cracked paint was uneasy, and the bench let out a call for help when Joe sat next to her.

“Let’s hope not.”

December, 2014

“Are you sure you want to know why?” I took a few seconds to think.

“Of course.” I said in reply.

“I had you in my wedding ceremony as you were a gigantic part of my life. I tried explaining to your dad that only the wedding party could ride in the limo, and Tay could not come along. After a brief argument, he had threatened to kill myself, my then-to-be wife, and her son if she wasn’t taken along. I practically disowned him then.”

This took some time to process. Thoughts passed through my brain. What if this would happen to me and my siblings? What would’ve happened if they weren’t feuding all the time? And over all, would I become my uncle some day? I couldn’t see myself loving and caring for someone for so many years and then just pushing them away. Days after that phone call ended, I had already forgiven my father in my mind. He was just trying to help my sister ride along with me, and if I had known she wanted to ride with me to the reception, I would have left the limo alone and went with her and our dad. I hadn’t, however, forgiven my uncle; disowning my father after being as petty as to not let a young girl ride in a limo when her brother got to? Disowning his own brother, even when he knew he had a disease and these kind of outbursts happened? I assumed he just didn’t take his medication, and past that I never brought it back up.

2001

“Hey, dude!” My dad had me over somewhere. It’s fuzzy in my head today, but fairly clear at the same time. White walls held a closet, which he entered and brought out the plastic bag, and put it on my lap.

“I loved these as a kid and want to pass them on to you.” I opened the bag and it was full of original Star Wars Legos. They were old compared to the ones I had by then, but they were the light of my eye as I always lost the cool lightsaber piece that seemed to shine although emitted no actual energy. He asked for nothing, he simply gave them to me and I never second guessed it.

Despite what was implanted in my head, my father was never all that bad.

1996

Sweat filled the room as two lay between the sheets. It’s dark. Subtle noises. The curtains blew out toward the bed from the open window, letting the foul smell escape the room. Skin left a soft noise when rubbing against itself.

But elsewhere, in a hospital room, sweat filled the room as one lay, tired and beaten but relieved. Curtains blew. And skin still left an even softer noise this time. Danielle sat, drenched in sweat, holding her new child. Mitch. Me.

I have heard different stories from all corners of my family, and the one that continues to come up is that he was having sex with her two-faced, future wife the day I came into this world. Yet I don’t blame my father; having to suppress his actual self to fit into society is difficult, and with him still being a moody, hormone-filled teenager, I can see where he was standing. Both his family and my mother’s family telling him he wouldn’t be a good father, when he raised Tay to be a troublemaker, yes. James was the one that found my pity. He tried to live the life he didn’t through his nephew; going to college straight out of high school, preparing for a ‘successful’ life, when every life has its twists and turns. And in the end, it’s the last impression that is left on a person. My father now talks with me at least once a month. My uncle, well, we’ll always have the ballpark.

Author's Note

I have not touched this work since Spring 2016, since then I have learned more on how to go about the layout for fiction and how to avoid dialogue confusion that seems to be present in my earlier works. Please bear with me on this, and if a dialogue line seems to be unclaimed:

- If the dialogue is between two people, every new line is the other person.
- If there is a name mentioned after dialogue in claimed, or someone performing an action, it is most likely them speaking.
- If dialogue exists, and is in the same paragraph as more dialogue that is unclaimed, it is still that person speaking.

Thank you.

Reviews

[Kathrine Rethorn]

Some real s**t hear. Though your time jumps are kinda like a pile of puzzle pieces and makes it confusing. But the the jist is gotten. Deep stuff, pretty good mellow read.