How I Broke a Family Cycle in One Night

“Sis, please come get me; I’m about to go off!” exclaimed my brother over the phone. I wasted no time hopping to my feet, shooting off questions about what happened and where he was. “I can’t even think right now; I got my kids here and I am so angry; I might go to jail; sis please come pick me up!”

I told him to text me the address. I put his coordinates in the GPS. 30 minutes away. That’s not too far. I told my gf I was going to go pick my brother up because something happened. My girlfriend got this tired look on her face, tight jaw imprisoning her concerns about how quickly I have jumped to rescue my good for nothing brother at 9:00 pm at night. 

I held conviction in my eyes. “I have to do this; this is what we do for family,” my words fell out of my mouth like fresh oil down a funnel into an engine. The instinct to help my family roared to life. 

My girlfriend sighed with understanding and resignation. I rushed into the cold night with pajamas, my hair bonnet, and slippers as I pulled up the address on my phone. I raced across the highway. I glanced at my phone. 15 more minutes. A sense of tiredness snaked into my being. “What are you doing?” I heard a warm, still voice say. It was a voice that made me think of preachers when they talk about times they heard a still small voice whisper wisdom to them. This voice was anything but small. It was distinct and motherly. The question was like a hit gong, deep sound sending me into a state of reflection. What was I doing? Here I was, dropping everything to go take care of my brother, like the women in my family usually did- running behind people to go clean up their mess. I was my grandmother with a young face. I looked at the remaining 15 minutes to go, and my eyes drooped. My arms felt heavy with weariness. 15 more minutes suddenly seemed far away. The warm, still voice spoke again. “Go home.” I pulled my car over on the side of the highway. I glanced at the full moon through the windshield. I reflected on what my brother told me. He sounded like he hadn’t been wearing a mask at family gathering I knew nothing about. I thought about how I would feel if I came home with Covid-19 because I couldn’t say no and put down boundaries with needy parts of my family. My brother always called whenever he needed something. This something required of trust I realized I didn’t have. So, I called an uber for him. I called him. 

“Hey, an uber will pick you up and take you home.” 

“Why you can’t do it?” 

“Because I don’t know what people you’ve been around and you didn’t have a mask; it seemed unsafe for me,” I stammered out, but once they were out, I felt relieved and sure. Small as it was, I had my own family to think about. “Text me to let me know you’ve made it home.” He promised to pay me back.

On my way back, the words, “Go home” played over and over; I longed nothing more than to be in the warmth of my little apartment with my girlfriend, in my own covers. 

When I got home, my girlfriend looked surprised to see me. “Welcome home.”

“I couldn’t do it,” I said. 

“Let’s lay down.” 

We cuddled on the bed. “I have my own family to think about now. You are important to me too. I realized I didn’t know how safe that situation was.” My girlfriend stroked my arm and kissed my forehead. 

“Thank you for thinking of me.” 

My brother never paid me back, just like I thought he wouldn’t.I think about that voice every now and then- the voice that asked me to consider myself. 

Author's Note

My attempt at a true short story.

Reviews

[Samuel Dickens]

I can see that that was a tough situation you were in. Of course you wanted to help, but this covid thing has put a serious kink in things. Hopefully, he got free of whatever bind he was in. Your heart was in the right place, but your mind knew better. I only see my son who lives in Houston once a year at either Thanksgiving or Christmas. This last year, we all agreed he'd best stay home.