Her Baby Brother

In June he texts that he's going to see her soon.

She calculates if his soon is the same as her soon. Her delusion of who he is makes her expect to see him before summer's end.

A year passes.

She hasn't gotten another text.

She sends monthly reminders of her love for him via SMS, trying to swaddle him enough that he knows he's safe and welcome wherever she is.

He doesn't respond.

He waits for the right time. For when he'll have something to offer. For when the years make people forget to hold him accountable. For the day when the sky holds 7 clouds shaped like him and the birds gather to bow in unison.

Holidays creep up the calendar. What was just the new year is now old.

It's 2:30 p.m. on December 23rd and the sky is bare, aside from the sun wading over yesterday's fallen snow. The streets boaster a deafening silence and as he folds himself into his Jeep, his radio intercepts the quiet. The reverberation from the speakers steadies his flighty vision. He sees his mother's old house on the road ahead of him. He drives and the force of his foot on the gas peels the road under his tires. He only sees the house on Quincy Street. He only sees what he remembers of Louraine. He hears her telling him to lower the music.

Hours and miles.

Miles and hours.

His Jeep creeps onto the block he used to know. The tires begging for spares. Sweat loosening his grip on the wheel. His body is rejecting home as it always has. He pulls up to the house but it's not as it was. He sits across the street as to not be seen. He sees children with his nieces and is unsure of which niece they belong to. He hears Louraine say go see Linda.

He drives to his sister.

She's close. He's at her door, pressing her bell for balance before he has locked his car doors.

She inches out of her sunken spot in the couch. She thinks it's her grandkids or her grown kids playing. She doesn't rush for them. Both locks turn opening the white door, the screen door is pushed forward, her lowered head raises to her little brother. She, who yelps when surprised, has been muted by his presence. She fumbles over the lock on the gate in a hurry to wrap her arms around him. She slips through the gate as she sends it flying into the screen door at the back of her. Her arms are around him quicker and more forcefully than he was prepared for. His body tilts backwards with the weight of hers and he grabs the bar on the window to keep them both upright. He smiles as he kisses her cheek, the moonlight hitting his gold tooth. She pulls him in the house. On his way inside, his fingers trickle across the bars on the window because they are the same.

He stands in her hallway, eyes closed, as she struggles to separate the screen door from the gate. He doesn't help her because his body is making him recall the necessity of inhaling and exhaling.

She stands in between the gate and screen door after overtaking them both, locks the gate and pauses. Leaning on the screen door, reclaiming her breath, she goes to send a text. A message to alert her children of his return. Mid-thought, she redirects herself and re-enters her home. With her back to him she closes the white door and momentarily considers barricading him in.

Her signature smile is so magnificent and otherworldly that it turns her body to face him before she is ready. She wants to hit his shoulder for every text and call he didn't answer, but she knows he bruises easily. She is crying.

He is crying.

She grabs his hand and guides him into the living room. The floor is lava for him but she won't turn him loose. They stand stage left, frozen.

Every version of themselves that have known one another are sitting on the couch watching them. Linda at every age holds her baby brother.

He sees the love she's always had for him, shame chokes him, and glues his eyes to the fire underneath him.

In the flames he sees his children, living and deceased.

He gets whiplash, turning his eyes away trying to latch onto something more forgiving. He remembers Linda's smile is in front of him.

Her smile absolves him of any and all faults, failures, or misdeeds. The unforgiveable is reshaped and reimagined with the understanding her smile holds.

He stays on her smile because he can't manage eye contact.