Black and White

The snow fell lightly in the darkness as I trudged along the slowly whitening sidewalk. The sound of my steps marking a lonely rhythm in the night air, my stomach clenched in ever-tightening knots.

Why did this have to happen on Christmas Eve?

I saw him long before he recognized me. Once he did, hope briefly flickered in his eyes till my jaw tightened and I hardened my gaze.

We stood together under a streetlamp, neither of us speaking for several minutes. After trying to light a coffin-nail two or three times, his lighter throwing a few feeble sparks, I struck a match, gently hiding the flame with my hand while he puffed, the end of his cigarette glowing in the pale light.

I can see the answer in your eyes, Tommy, Mike muttered.

Well ... you really screwed up this time, I replied bitterly.

That bad?

Christ, Mike. You fucked the boss's girlfriend.

Could a been worse, at least it wasn't his wife, he said with a snicker.

I laughed in spite of myself, and he flashed his wicked boy grin. Oh, the girls loved him alright. They lapped that shit up.

Damn it, Mike, you're not making this any easier.

So, get on with it already.

He looked at me unflinchingly, his hard gaze a strange combination of angry and sad.

Then he smiled just before crumpling to the snowy walk. My shoulders shaking with the pistol still smoking in my hand, I whispered, Goodbye baby brother. Goodbye.